Page 10 of The Scattered Bones

“Do I not want to know?” I needed to learn everything about him, but I worried if he told me of the danger that nightmares would plague my sleep.

“Probably not.” He shrugged. “But I’m going to tell you anyway, because I haven’t had someone kind to talk to in three weeks, and I like when you listen to my stories.”

“I enjoy hearing them.”

“Except I’m always the one talking.” He leaned back, a god-king on his throne, and I involuntarily leaned closer to him, his gravity that enticing. “One of these days, you’re going to have to tell me one of your stories, my friend.”

“My life isn’t adventurous like yours.”

“I don’t care.” He shrugged. “I still want to hear about it. If I tell you, do you promise to tell me one in return?”

“Deal.” I put my hand up as if to make an officially binding oath, and he laughed so beautifully at my awkwardness.

“Wonderful.” He pitched forward, excitement electrifying the golden flecks in his eyes. “It was a disaster from the beginning, and my bad luck all started with a loud and stubborn donkey.”

Four

Stranger?” I ask as I trudge through the snow. “If I don’t return, will you take what little of him I’ve found and lay him to rest?” I left my horse and the chained chest with a bewildered villager before I set my sights on the mountain, but if I don’t survive this evil, I don’t want his final resting place to be a locked box. I want his body surrendered to the earth in a real burial.

“Of course, my child,” his silent voice answers.

“Thank you.”

“Although I would prefer you returned.”

I laugh. “Not even Lovec’s pledged hunters can reclaim their city. I am no hunter. What chance do I stand?”

“You are not a descendant of the people who slaughtered his wife.”

He has a point.

“But the gods turned their backs on me all the same.”

“Grief calls to grief, and you wear yours like a cloak. Lovec carries his like a shield. You’re not so different from one another.”

“You think he’ll help me?”

“No.” His chuckle is soft. “You know he cannot. You must do this alone.”

“Then why bring him up?” I feel annoyed.

“Because he’s free to move atop this mountain,” The Stranger continues. “Hreinasta cannot forbid that, and is it aiding your quest if he happens to walk before you? If he pauses in the only spot in the blizzard that blocks you from evil’s view?”

“Just like holding my hand.” I smirk as I repeat his words from the temple.

“There are no laws against holding your hand or walking or breathing. So, no, he won’t aid you, but I sense a touch of luck on this mountain.”

“I hope you’re right.” I don’t feel lucky. My fingers are already brittle with cold. “I don’t want to end the day in shredded pieces… If I die, will you bury me beside his parts? I want to rest in the dirt with him.”

“Of course, my child.” His voice is soft, almost affectionate, and it surprises me. “But stop asking me to bury people. It’s exhausting.”

I laugh, shaking my head as the distant ruins come into view. “I wish you were here.”

“I am here. I am always with you.”

“You know what I mean.” I’m afraid. I don’t want to be, but I am.

The snow whirls on a gust of wind to my right, and my heart stops beating. The tigers? Have they found me already? The city is still a long way off.

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