Page 9 of The Scattered Bones

He studied me for a silent moment, his eyes darkening. “I’ve never seen anyone as beautiful as you. I mean this in the most respectful way, but you are divinely lovely. I’m almost ashamed to share the same air as you.”

It was my turn to laugh, and crimson stained my cheeks as dark as the ash staining his forehead.

“Sorry,” he muttered, the bones in my chest vibrating with his voice’s power. “I promise I won’t say anything like that again. I didn’t mean to disrespect your vows. I’m here because you helped me… and because I understand loneliness. I read it in your eyes. I saw someone who needed a friend, and I’m someone who could use the same.”

“You’re lonely too?” I sat on the edge of my mattress, tucking my cold toes beneath my skirts.

“All my life.” His confession shattered me into a million pieces. “But that’s a depressing topic, and I’m in a good mood. I was welcomed as a thief, and after two months of failing, I finally figured out how to break through your temple’s defenses. I’m here to bring you smiles, not tears.”

I gave him what he wanted, and the moon shone brighter at his returned expression.

“I wouldn’t mind, though,” I said.

“Mind what?”

“If you gave me your sorrows.”

“Maybe I will.” His smile changed from joy to genuine appreciation. “But I think we should start our friendship by celebrating.”

“I would like that.”

“Good.” He leaned forward farther, his hands slipping from behind his back to prop himself up on his knees. “I leave for my first job next week. Want to hear about it?”

I nodded with enthusiasm, ignoring the warnings blaring in my mind, and his gravel voice launched into an exciting explanation of the city he was to travel to and the men he was commissioned to rob. He talked late into the night, his soft thunder a lullaby, and each time his story came to a close, I found another question to ask. Another reason to encourage him to talk, and he gifted me with everything I asked for. As night transformed to dawn, my eyelids grew heavy until I was lying on my mattress, barely conscious enough to decipher his words.

When I woke with a start, the sun was high overhead, and Kaid no longer watched over me. I was achingly alone again. The only proof he was there was the blanket that always sat folded at the foot of my bed draped over me.

The Realization

SEASON OF ICE, CYCLE 78919

Kaid’s absence was like a veil being ripped from my eyes. I’d always known I was lonely, a pure object placed on a pedestal not to be touched, but his conversations showed me the painful truth of my isolation. In the days that followed his return, I watched the priestesses with the other groomed vessels. They all congregated within their private friendships, and that was the moment I realized I belonged to no one. I was a holy relic, the sacrificial lamb, and whether it was born of jealousy or wariness, the others in the temple avoided my presence. They were polite. They were kind, but they never offered me their companionship or confidence. How had I never seen it? Even as a child, my family isolated me. I didn’t remember the warmth of my mother’s embrace or the tenor of my siblings’ laughter. For as long as I could recall, it was only me and my destiny. I was Hreinasta’s from birth, and it took a thief with a voice like a demon to show me how alone and starved I was.

A week later, my parents visited the temple. My father couldn’t enter the inner sanctum, but they permitted my mother as she was a woman. She didn’t touch me, though, for her smiles were focused on the other worshipers. I brought pride to my family. The Pure One’s chosen acolyte, the holiest daughter in all of Szent. Tears battled my will as I watched her pray. I craved her affection, her attention, her acknowledgment, but she offered none. I was an object to her, and it carved a jagged hole in my chest. I didn’t even need her to hug me. I simply hoped she would meet my gaze and ask me how I was, but she left with a prayer and a bow. Both aimed at the altar and not her daughter.

I waited until I was alone to cry. It was an honor that Hreinasta chose me. It was a privilege to be a part of her house, and I wished to serve her.

But I missed Kaid. I missed how his eyes saw Sellah and not the vessel.

I hated myself for those thoughts. I hated how I suddenly felt wrong in my own home, in my own body. I cried harder because a dangerous man was the kindest person I knew.

Through my tears, I caught sight of my father outside, and I crept closer to the balcony railing where I hid. It was frowned upon for an acolyte to venture this close to where the men worshiped, but after ten cycles, I desperately hoped one of my parents would show they cared. I silently begged him to look up at me. To prove he loved me.

He talked to the other men, praying at the outer altar; his pride so inflated, I was surprised he didn’t float up to the sun and burn alive. After long minutes of waving my hand through the slats, hoping to catch his eye, I sat down in defeat. My father worshiped at the temple where he had abandoned his daughter, yet he never intended to lay his eyes upon his own flesh and blood. He wanted the praise of his peers, not me. Never me. He left without noticing I was mere feet above him, and I clenched my eyes shut, forcing the tears back as Kaid’s face filled the darkness. In my imagination, he stood below me at the outside shrine, and I knew that if he’d come to pray, he wouldn’t leave until his gaze found mine. Until his scarred lips twitched upward in a smile that could shift Earth’s axis.

I started sleeping facing my window after that. I wished to be ready when he returned, if he returned. Varas had sent him on a dangerous mission. The object he wanted stolen was one that no thief had managed to capture. I wasn’t familiar with Varas or his ways, but I prayed to him every night for Kaid’s safety. Even if he never scaled the temple walls again, I wanted the man shrouded in both darkness and light to be alive and safe.

For three weeks, I prayed. For three weeks, I felt his absence with an intensity I didn’t believe possible, and then at the dawn of the fourth week, a blast of icy air pummeled my face just as I drifted off to sleep. The smile the frozen wind brought to my lips was of pure joy, and when my eyes fluttered open, Kaid’s large frame climbing through my window lit up my world.

“Hello, friend,” he said as he collapsed on the sofa, his hair escaping the leather cord to fall into his eyes. “Miss me?”

“Maybe,” I teased, but by the look he gave me, he recognized the lie. I missed him to the point of pain.

“Well, that was an adventure,” he huffed, brushing back his escaped locks. “And by adventure, I mean I never want to do that again. On Varas’ name, that was the worst three weeks of my life.”

“That hard of a job?” I asked.

“That dangerous of a job.”

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