Page 31 of The Scattered Bones

“You refused to wake up,” he answers in my mind.

“How long was I asleep?” I ask, for the sun is well overhead.

“At least twelve hours. I planned to let you rest longer, but I reconsidered once your arm fell over the edge.”

I rub my face, and now that my alarm has receded, I notice the ache in my muscles. Sleeping on this rocky surface did nothing to ease the soreness from climbing. Part of me wants to sit here for the rest of the day and start my ascent in the morning, but I can’t waste supplies. “Do you think there’s another ledge above?”

“Who knows what nature has created?”

“Do you hide your face from me because you know these half-answers annoy me?”

“Who knows my reasons?”

I roll my eyes as I grab a handful of nuts and seeds from my pack. My hunger isn’t satisfied by the meager meal, but rationing is more appealing than starvation.

“If you climb, the gods will provide,” The Stranger says.

“The gods have forsaken me.”

“Not the ones who truly care.”

My mind flicks to Lovec and Udens, to Elskere, the wed gods. I’m like the first two in my loss, the last two in my vows. Perhaps Elskere still favors me. Look at all I’ve done in the name of love and marriage.

There’s something different in The Stranger’s tone, though, a tenderness that makes me wonder if his words hide another meaning. Is someone else looking kindly upon me? Hopefully, a secluded god sits atop the Verdens Kant, watching me with favor as I climb the edge of the world.

“The sun’s shining,” The Stranger continues. “The path is clear.”

He says nothing more, but as I stare heavenward, I cannot help but think that he’s guiding me again, just as he did with the ledge.

With pained fingers, I begin, and my raw skin bleeds instantly. My muscles shake with exhaustion, my mouth is parched despite the drink I washed down my breakfast with. I regret not remaining on the ledge for a second night, but I sense him. He’s close. I’ll find another scattered bone soon. I have so few left to recover that I can practically taste his kiss. That memory spurs me on as I whisper his name, remembering how his dark hair hung over his eyes, how his large hands always located the perfect grip when he climbed, how, despite the ash coating his forehead, he was still the most beautiful thing to grace this world. I miss his scar and the way it twisted when he smiled, how it felt rough against my soft skin and molded to my fingers when I caressed it. I miss everything about him, from the way his body moved against mine, to the deep voice I’ve forgotten, to the smile that eclipsed the sun. It hurts to think about him. It brings me peace to remember him.

Tracing his muscles in my memory helps pass the time and blocks out the sight of the blood dripping down my knuckles. My knees are scraped, and my toes are bruised, but taking inventory of everything I love about him erases the now and leaves me in the past. It grants me the strength to find another crevice, another handhold, another footrest, and I’m shocked when I suddenly come across a vast indent in the cliffside.

I couldn’t see it from below, for the jagged protrusions hid it, but as I haul myself up between two pillars, I notice a path that’s been carved into the mountain. Excitement fills my chest. It’s wide enough for me to walk on, the open air above me allowing light to spill in. This is why The Stranger encouraged me to climb. This path winds on a small incline up the cliff face, disappearing into the clouds, and I cannot stop my feet from following its call. Have I passed the test? Did I ascend high enough that the Verdens Kant deemed me worthy and offered me aid?

I race along it as the day dies, hours passing peacefully, but the sudden end of this path dashes my hopes. It was merely a reprieve, like the ledge below, and I stare at my mutilated fingers. I can’t do this again. I cannot bring myself to shove them back into the minuscule crevices.

“Help me,” I whisper. To him? To the gods? To the empty air? I don’t know.

I should camp here for the night, but if I sleep, I fear I’ll never climb again. So I place my hands on the rocks and haul myself up. I don’t know how long I scale the harshness. I’ve lost track of the time, and all I know is I made a mistake. I should’ve camped on the path and rested, but I ignored my body’s warning, listening to desperation instead. As the blood on my palms causes me to lose my grip, I realize I’ve made more than a mistake. I’ve killed myself, for my fingers keep slipping, slipping, slipping. I try to hold on, but it’s too little too late, and I fall.

The Wedding

SEASON OF THE HARVEST, CYCLE 78920

Kaid climbed through my window, looking rough around his edges. The holy ash on his temples was smudged, black stubble covered the normally shaved sides of his head, and dark circles clung below his eyes, visible despite the soot from Varas’ fires. He looked both older and younger as he stood before me, exhaustion fighting his limbs as he caught his breath from the climb.

“Three days,” he said, pulling me into a hug, my face burrowing into his powerful chest as his nose pushed into my hair. “I have a contact willing to smuggle us south on his ship if we can make it to the coast. It’ll be tight, but if we leave sooner, that’ll give them too many opportunities to cut off our escape.”

I nodded against his shirt, and his arms tightened around me. Those three days couldn’t pass fast enough. My birthday was two weeks away, and Hreinasta would waste no time claiming me. The moment I turned twenty-one and came of age, she planned to possess my body. The priestesses had already started preparing for the ceremony. They cleansed me daily in fragrant waters. They called me to endless prayer at their side. A cycle ago, I would have bent an obedient knee and submitted wholeheartedly to their purification, but now it was all I could do not to scream. Fear was my constant companion as the acolytes bowed reverently when I passed. Dread was my dearest friend as I sat elevated in the temple’s inner sanctum for all the devoted worshipers to see.

My mother visited often, my father remaining in the outer courtyards where the men prayed. They worshiped at the busiest hours, not there to visit me or to repent, but to garner the respect of their peers. How holy their family was, how sacred. Hreinasta had chosen their daughter as her next host, and how they bathed in the praise and envy of Szent’s upper class. Watching my mother preen and squawk and strut strengthened my resolve to flee this place with Kaid. Not once during her worship did she look at or speak to me. All my parents cared about was how my sacrifice and suffering brought them status and wealth. It wasn’t devotion or religion. It was a performance. My faith meant nothing in this temple. Their faith meant nothing at all. They abandoned me cycles ago, though, so their disregard shouldn’t have hurt as acutely as it did. I was never their child. I was their thing, and I wondered how much shame my escape would bring them. How the tables would turn on their arrogance in three days.

The guards had doubled as well. It surprised me they let me sleep alone, but I assumed they thought me safe so high off the ground. No one accounted for a thief. Thank the gods, otherwise, our plan would never work. Those three days couldn’t pass fast enough.

Kaid rarely visited since our decision to leave, and while I understood, it only heightened my anxiety. Sneaking into my room had become almost impossible because of the increased security, and he’d been too busy as he both served Varas and planned our escape. We had to disappear, running fast before they caught our trail, but there would always be a chance they would find us. We weren’t escaping oppressive parents or abusive masters. We were fleeing the gods, the all-powerful rulers of the realm. Even with Kaid’s meticulous planning, we might never make it beyond Szent’s city limits, but neither of us cared. We would try. We had to. I refused to let Hreinasta possess me without a fight.

“I didn’t think I would see you until our escape,” I said as Kaid finally loosened his strangling grip on me. His hold was tight, almost uncomfortably so, but those were my favorite hugs. His love and devotion bled through his limbs into my skin as he held me, reminding me of just how intensely he wanted me with him. “I assumed you would come for me when it was time. The guards are too many to risk a visit.”

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