Page 8 of The Scattered Bones

SEASON OF ICE, CYCLE 78919

The thief did not return, and for two weeks, disappointment made its home in my gut. The streets outside the temple walls were as foreign to me as the distant lands of the realm. The Sivatag was just a legend. The snow-painted North merely a myth. All I knew were marble pillars, luxurious opulence, and restraint. I’d never witnessed men or animals up close. I’d never tasted wine or enjoyed the sun warming my bare skin. The last time someone embraced me was ten cycles ago when my mother—all pride and jubilance—hugged me goodbye and delivered me into the priestesses’ hands. Joining Hreinasta’s cult was an honor unmatched, and I devoted myself to that future. My faith was strong, my dedication unwavering, but the curious child that had been snuffed out long ago saw the thief as a window. A glimpse into a world I would never experience.

By the time a month had passed, I resolved not to think of him. His presence was a sin, and I threw myself into my prayers. Day and night, I knelt before the altar. I let Hreinasta’s current host witness my devout resolution. In a cycle, I would come of age and bear the purest goddess’ soul. I couldn’t afford the distractions. It was better if he never returned.

By the time two months came to a close, I’d forgotten him… or so I convinced myself.

* * *

“Miss me?”

I yelped at the interruption, the unattractive sound spilling past my lips as I tripped off the mattress. The voice rumbled with laughter, and with as much dignity as I could muster, I whirled around, my balance teetering on a disaster.

“Got you.” He winked as he climbed through my window before locking the cold outside. This Season of the Ice had been one of the most brutal freezes Szent had endured in decades, and prayers to Sato for the warmth’s return poured from the city’s lips.

Kaid slid gracefully onto the small cushioned lounge beside my window and spread his legs wide as he leaned against the wall. He took up the entire sofa. He took up the entire room, all the air meant for my lungs now flooding his, and I couldn’t breathe. How did someone so tall and strong move so silently? He was all grace and stealth, power and strength, and unlike our first meeting, his face was stained. He wore the same midnight dark clothing that marked him as a thief, but his temples and forehead bore ash stains. His brown eyes with their golden sunlight flecks stared out at me, and the scar on his lip twitched as he let me drink him in. His chest seemed broader than I remembered, the arms crossed over it more muscular. My cheeks flushed four shades of red, but, thankfully, he made no comment. He simply sat there, consuming the molecules surrounding him like he owned everything in this room. Including me.

The sides of his skull were freshly shaved, but the raven black hair on the top of his head was longer, and he had it pulled back with a leather cord. Everything about him screamed danger. Every inch of him was designed for the darkness, yet he was devastatingly beautiful. I didn’t remember him being that imperfectly perfect, and the fire I’d tried to smother in my chest sparked to life. How could someone so dark and scarred be that striking?

“Sorry it took so long to return,” he said with a mischievous smile, and I slammed my mouth shut, realizing I’d been gawking at him. “I guess they learned their lesson after my first break-in. Took me weeks to plan an unseen path in and out of this temple.”

“You’ve been trying to visit this whole time?” I asked in shock.

“Yes.” He tilted his head at me, his expression falling. “You thought I forgot?”

“No,” I blurted. “Yes.” I sat at the top of my mattress, keeping the bed between us like a fortress wall.

“I keep my promises, Sellah.” The way his voice rumbled through my chest as he said my name stole my breath. I would never tire of hearing it on his tongue, of watching his full lips form the sounds. “I told you I would return, and here I am.” He extended his arms in emphasis as if he were a golden prize. “Unless you didn’t want me to visit?” He hesitated, as if suddenly realizing that an acolyte of Hreinasta might despise his presence.

And I should have. I should have run from that room screaming, thrown myself before the altar, and begged forgiveness for his transgressions. Instead, I curled my legs beneath me and grabbed a pillow, hugging it like a soft shield. “I wanted you to visit.” I’d spoken those dangerous words out loud. I could never take that confession back, but I didn’t want to. Kaid had captured my spirit, and I craved everything he offered. I wouldn’t touch him, but I longed to know what friendship tasted like. Even though this towering man oozed danger, his spark breathed life into the part of my soul that isolation had caused to wither and die.

“Good.” He smiled wide, his scar stretching, and the expression ruined my world only to rebuild it brighter. No one had ever looked at me like that, as if their whole heart was happy to see me. Not the vessel. Me.

People smiled at me, but never like he did. I was a body destined to house a goddess. I was my parents’ pride and a sacred object of our religion. But Kaid’s smile reached past my skin and found the walled-off parts where I kept Sellah buried, and she blossomed to the surface.

I offered him a small smile as the silence stretched between us since I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know how to hold conversations, and it struck me how lonely I was. People talked at me, never to me. One day, Sellah would step behind the veil, and Hreinasta would take her place. To most, I wasn’t a person; I was the goddess’ next choice. They worshiped me more than they spoke to me. My lack of experience reared its head, and the room spun with my panic.

Kaid, on the other hand, seemed unperturbed by the silence. He leaned confidently against the wall, drinking in the sight of my face, and slowly, his confidence bled into me. He didn’t push; he didn’t insist. He simply was, and that gave me strength.

“What is that?” I dragged what little bravery I had out of my spirit and shoved it into my voice. He tilted his head in question, and I pointed to the stains around his eyes. Black like soot, they matched his hair and his clothes, hiding his light skin in the night air.

His smile ignited with so much pride, it crossed the divide and expanded my chest. “The Marks of Varas. He accepted me into his house as one of his thieves.” Kaid leaned forward, but when he saw the hesitation in my eyes, his arms twisted behind his back. “I won’t touch you, I promise. You can come look if you want.”

I shouldn’t. I couldn’t. I wouldn’t.

I did. I crawled over the white bedding and slid my bare feet onto the cool floor. True to his word, Kaid’s muscles remained frozen as he hovered before me, and I stepped as close as I dared. I noticed the finger strokes used to apply the soot. The ash intensified the gold specks in his irises as if they were on fire, and I read the cruelty of the scar that ran through his mouth. I’d never had the urge to touch anyone before. The priestesses touched me when they helped me prepare for worship, but that was the only time skin brushed against mine. I never stopped to consider the way someone’s flesh might feel under my fingers, but standing temptingly close to Kaid had my fists clutched into balls in order to resist. I lied to myself, blaming the desire on the deformity. Hreinasta allowed none of her acolytes to wear blemishes. Therefore, I’d never seen what healed violence looked like. It fascinated and sickened me in the same breath. How did someone stare at that beautiful face and slice through his lips? Perhaps that’s why they did it, to rob him of his beauty, but they failed. They only made him more intoxicating, and my thoughts lied when they claimed I wanted to trace his scar because it was interesting. I longed to touch his scar because it was on his mouth, and it was a mouth that could rearrange the heavens if only it smiled. If only it spoke.

“When I laid your dress before his altar, Varas was shocked,” Kaid continued, and I jerked, forgetting I had asked him a question. “We’re not permitted to dwell alongside The Thief until the day of our offering. If we’re successful in stealing from another temple, he accepts us into his house, our position based on the difficulty of the shrine we stole from. That was one reason I was determined to visit you. I wanted to thank you for your help and prove I was skilled enough to break through Hreinasta’s defenses again. I was sloppy when we met, and her priestesses learned. Far harder to slip in unnoticed this time.”

“Yet you did,” I said.

“Of course.” He scrunched his eyebrows teasingly. “I had to show you the Mark of Varas. You’re not permitted to stain your skin with the ash of his holy fires until he welcomes you as one of his Thieves. The stains help hide you in the shadows, but first, you must prove you have the skill to do it without his aid.”

“I like it.” I stepped closer but froze when his chest heaved at my movements.

“Thanks.” His breathing stumbled, and my foot lifted to retreat. “Don’t go,” he whispered. “Stay. Please stay. My apologies. It’s just the bed was too far from the moonlight to see you, and…” He trailed off. “Never mind.”

“What were you going to say?” I shouldn’t ask. I couldn’t know his answer. The Marks of Varas was a safe topic. They spoke of devotion to our gods, commitment to our temples, but if he voiced what he was thinking, he could never take it back. I knew his words would alter me to my marrow.

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