TWO

NAHLI

Nahli Yan had been in a bind ever since sailing from Huadu to Kedaf last winter. Though it was spring verging on summer, she could still feel her body brimming with ice, remembered the frozen chips that had been embedded on her eyelashes.

Now, only frostbite remained inside her heart from when her childhood friend, Zikri, had abandoned her in this foreign place. A frigid ache haunted her memories after she’d left her home behind to go with him. The wintry haze bound itself to her, and she would never be rid of the coldness, making it difficult to thaw and reseal her broken heart.

She hurried out of the market, attempting to avoid thinking about the coin she could have made when Daryna—the woman who she sold stolen goods to—set her eyes on all those herbs. Nahli had almost gotten them. Almost. What could she bring to Daryna now? She hadn’t scavenged anything useful in days. Tired of the thieving, Nahli wanted to return home, though she wasn’t sure why anymore since her parents would only punish her for leaving.

From the corner of her eye, Nahli caught a glimpse of someone walking her way. An older man, with graying hair and a receding hairline, limped up the dirt path toward the entrance of the market. A large straw basket filled with shiny beaded jewelry dangled and glistened from his left hand.

It would have to be sufficient for today. Nahli wouldn’t be paid as much, but she was sure she’d get at least a few coins from Daryna. Better than nothing.

“Hello, sir.” Nahli put on her brightest, trustworthy smile and straightened her spine as much as she could.

“Good day, isn’t it?” the man asked, rotating the basket to his other hand. The jewelry rattled, and she took a deep breath to prevent herself from reaching in to snatch it all.

“May I have a gander at what you have to sell today? I want to rush home and tell my mother to hurry to the market before all the good jewelry is sold.” She knew the jewelry wouldn’t all be collected from customers. He might only sell two or three, but she wanted to boost his confidence.

Scratching the patch of thinning hair, he smiled and lowered his basket. “Only really quickly. My wife is meeting me with the rest of our goods at the market, and I don’t want to have a late start.”

Up close, she could see the deep pockmarks buried into his cheeks. Even then, he carried himself with the poise of a man who’d been handsome in his youth. Though he wasn’t as pleasant to the eyes now, his swagger had survived the years.

Nahli knelt, her knees brushing against the dampened grass beside the path. While rummaging through the colorful rounded beads of bracelets, necklaces, and earrings, she studied the man and asked him about the market to keep his focus on her face, instead of her fingers lightly sifting through the jewelry.

In one quick flip of the hand, she slid a few pieces up her sleeve and pushed herself up to stand. She stared down at an azure-colored necklace resting on top of the other jewelry. “I think my mother would love that blue piece. Would you mind holding it for me at the market, if I come right back?” She wouldn’t be returning, and he would only become another person whom she’d swiped from. Perhaps one day she would have enough coin to pay back everyone she’d stolen from, but she knew that day would most likely never come.

“I most certainly will. My wife will be thrilled that her jewelry is loved and appreciated. She spends every waking moment at home stringing them.” The man tipped his head and once again limped toward the market, causing Nahli’s heart to shrivel a little more.

Closing her eyes for a moment, Nahli shook away the guilt. She needed to do this. It was the fastest way to get back home to Huadu.

But there could be a quicker way to make coin...

Her thoughts turned to Anton.

There had been a time when she’d stolen from a woman at a market dance who’d been gossiping to a friend and pointing to Anton’s tall frame. Then again, Nahli had heard his name roll off the lips of giggling women at a pub. Yet, she couldn’t do what he did.

When she’d told him we all have to do what we have to do, she had meant it. But she was already empty as it was, and anything that could make her feel more barren would certainly end her.

She shook her head from the thoughts of the man who’d helped to put her in this predicament by keeping hold of her satchel.

Daryna didn’t live far from the market, her small cottage merely hidden by the thick woods most people avoided.

With a flitter of her arm, she let the trinkets slide down her sleeve into the palm of her other hand. Two mismatched earrings and a bracelet. She hoped they were worth something, but she knew it wouldn’t be as much as she wished for.

Taking in the warmth of the sun and cloud-filled sky, Nahli trudged ahead, the dirt crunching beneath her boots. Eventually, she arrived at the fork in the dirt road and stared briefly in the direction leading to the ocean that would take her back to home. Shaking away the ache in her chest, she took a left and crossed into the heavily wooded area. People in the village believed Daryna to be a witch, but Nahli knew better than to consider such ridiculous gossip. The woman only acted like one, with her distant and moody demeanor.

As Nahli trekked through the muddy woods, past thick moss hanging from branches, the only sounds echoing were the squish of her boots contacting the wet dirt, the rustle of branches, and the barking of foxes. Daryna’s ivory-painted, wooden fence came into view, surrounding her brown and blue cottage. Surprisingly, it was a beautiful home—secluded from all eyes, no wood decay, topped with a pristine thatched roof.

The steps to the maroon front door groaned and creaked as Nahli strode up them. From the side of the cottage, a group of chickens squawked. Before she could bring her hand up to knock, the door swung open, revealing Daryna’s scowling face.

Daryna was possibly ten years older than Nahli, maybe a little less. But the way she presented herself made her seem older, harder. The woman’s hazel eyes stood out against her warm brown skin and black hair. Her nose was slightly crooked, and the edges of her mouth were always turned down in a way that made her appear harsh. Even without a smile, her face had a certain prettiness, though.

Jaw clenched, Daryna clamped down on Nahli’s wrist and tried to tug her inside the cottage. “You know better than to show up at this time of day. We have set times. What if someone sees you?” Her thick black hair was pulled into a low bun and loose strands hung beside her ears.

Nahli twisted her head from side to side and even angled it back over her shoulder to prove a point that no one was out there but her and Daryna. “No one else is here.” The woman needed to calm her nerves. Who else would be out here this early except for me or Boda?

“Just get inside.”

She tugged her arm from Daryna’s grasp and walked into the cottage. Searching around the sitting room, Boda was nowhere in sight. Boda was Daryna’s ‘helper,’ but Nahli wasn’t sure of exactly what she did.

“I’m sorry, Daryna. I only wanted to do a trade today, and I thought it would be better to arrive early.”

“You should have come yesterday.”

Daryna closed the door, her wool skirt swaying as she made her way to the center of the main room. The wooden rocking chair remained still, a knitted blanket hanging over its arm. Beside it rested a large settee that could substitute for a mattress. Nahli had thought about asking Daryna to use that piece of furniture as a bed for herself, would have gotten down on her knees and begged, even cried heavy tears against the floor for it. But she was sure Daryna would have denied her, and she didn’t want the pity.

Nahli knew Daryna was right—she should have come yesterday. Yet she’d spent the day sulking like a child of eight instead of a woman of eighteen. “I know. But I’m here now.”

The scent of sweet bread struck her nose, and her eyes drifted to the kitchen. She instantly found the honey-colored source of food sitting on top of the stove. Her mouth salivated for only one taste.

Daryna’s hazel gaze fell to Nahli’s empty hands. “Well?”

Returning her attention to Daryna, Nahli reached into her pocket and withdrew the mismatched earrings and bracelet. She silently prayed for Daryna to hand her a few coins so she could leave.

Instead, Daryna slapped her hand against Nahli’s, causing the jewelry to plummet to the floor. “Why did you even bother wasting my time? You might as well go sell yourself with the ones who are destined for nothing better.”

A fire sprang up inside Nahli’s chest. She might have made a pitiful decision today with losing the herbs and bringing the jewelry, but she’d made plenty of good finds for Daryna in the past. The payment hadn’t been much for Nahli, but Daryna had to have made an astounding amount of coin from the stolen items.

Nahli was tired of having to search for breadcrumbs in this life while everyone else trudged ahead. She lifted her arm before Daryna could do anything, and shoved the woman out of the way, making her stumble. Without any more thought, Nahli took off in the direction of the backdoor, snatched the bread on top of the stove, and flew out from the cottage.

Behind her, the sound of Daryna’s heavy footsteps pounded against the wood steps as she tried to chase after Nahli. “You give that back!” Daryna hissed.

Nahli only became more flustered. She plucked up a red-faced chicken with her other hand when she rounded the cottage. Taking one last look at Daryna, she could see her clutching her left leg as though she’d injured it. For a brief moment, Nahli wanted to turn around and help her, but she held on to the flicker of anger and fled.

“You’re going to give me both of those back!” Daryna’s rage-filled voice grew smaller and smaller as Nahli drew farther away from the cottage.

“Then I guess you’ll have to hunt me down!” she called back with a smile, not knowing if the woman could even hear her. If Daryna reported her for stealing, then the woman would be turning herself in for knowingly purchasing stolen goods.

Nahli jolted out of the thicket, brushing moss out of her way, until she hit the fork in the road. Breathing heavily, she continued in the other direction opposite the market, following toward the large hills brushing the bright blue sky. Her lungs were finding it hard to pump, and her thirst increased as she carried the chicken awkwardly. When she reached the lake, she came to a stop, clutching her chest with the bread.

She placed the hen on the ground in between two moss-covered trees and sat on the hard earth, propping her back against the rough bark where no one would be able to see her.

The chicken let out a teeny cluck and took a tiny step closer to Nahli, then plopped down beside her thigh, as it cushioned itself in the tall grass. It seemed to stare at the loaf of sweet bread resting in Nahli’s lap. Feathers of black and white ruffled as if the chicken still wasn’t comfortable enough. Its small red head turned, looking up at her through dark beady eyes. Her heart softened—the hen was sort of cute.

“All right, I’m hungry too,” Nahli said and broke off the top of the bread. She set it next to the bird, and its small beak pecked rapidly at the crumbs.

Nahli stuffed pieces into her own mouth, satisfying her aching stomach, then drank a few handfuls of water from the lake.

She wasn’t sure why she’d taken the chicken or what she would even do with it. Most villagers could easily make a fine meal out of the hen, but she couldn’t bring herself to eat many animals besides fish. She had just wanted to take whatever she could from Daryna in the heat of the moment. But she still wouldn’t bring the chicken back to Daryna’s cottage.

After finishing half the loaf of bread, she went to place the remainder of it into her satchel then remembered she didn’t have one anymore. She would have to find another ... or steal one.

Nahli ignored the swell of emotions that built inside her and leaned her head against the tree, closing her eyes to stop the thoughts of her wrong choices from creeping in.

A rustling, followed by a splash of water, grabbed her attention, and her eyes fluttered open. She’d somehow drifted off, but for how long, she didn’t know.

Nahli peeked around the tree as more movement came from the lake. At the edge of the water, in a heap, were a pair of boots, trousers, and a tunic. Her gaze flickered to the lake and narrowed on a blond head poking out of the water. She knew that head.

Anton.

Scooping up the chicken—who she was surprised hadn’t roamed off—in her arm, she grabbed the bread in her other hand and rushed to the edge of the water. Dirt crunched under her boots as she hurried to the clothing and lifted them to see if her satchel was buried underneath. It wasn’t.

“Where’s my satchel?” Nahli yelled out toward Anton. She kept her distance to make sure she’d be able to run from him easily if she had to.

Anton faced the other direction, but his body froze when he heard her voice. He quickly turned around, wet hair brushing against his broad shoulders. The smallest of smiles played across his face, though she might have been imagining it was there at all.

His blue eyes locked with hers, but he was too far away for her to see the faint scar beside his eye. “I did tell you it was going to be gifted, didn’t I?”

Nahli placed the hand with the bread against her hip. “I want it back.”

Slowly, his gaze lowered to her hands. “Is that a chicken?”

With a proud grin, she peered down at the hen in her arm. “Why, yes. Yes, it is.”

“All right...” A brow quirked its way up his forehead.

Nahli examined the clothing on the ground and decided to return the favor. She plucked up the trousers and tunic. “I suppose I have gifts to give away now, too.”

Anton cringed and released a loud curse. “Come on, you can’t take my clothes.”

“I left your boots ... as a gift.” She smiled even wider, taking off with her hands full and Anton shouting at her to come back. It was the most enjoyment she’d had in a while.

She continued to smile the rest of the way until she made it home—the decaying wooden bridge she lived under. It looked as if it were meant for trolls but they didn’t exist—she did. Her face fell as she neared the wide opening. Some of the planks were missing on top, others were cracked or broken. It wasn’t that terrible living there, now that winter was over...

Who was she kidding? It was horrible.

Slowly, Nahli padded her way to the hidden area. No one drifted that way or used the dilapidated bridge anymore. It was the place where she felt the safest ... and the loneliest.

She set down the chicken, and it followed her like a puppy to her already sprawled out blanket. A musty aroma wafted off from the cloth, and it would need to be washed in the lake soon.

After taking a seat, she broke off another piece of bread and shared it with the hen. She grabbed her silver flask from the edge of the blanket and drank all the water inside, which wasn’t enough to sate her thirst.

Why did I ever come here? Oh right, Zikri’s bright idea. Zikri. She couldn’t stop herself from thinking about him.

“Zikri, my parents are forcing me to marry,” Nahli said, sobbing softly into her hands. She was conditioned to handle her parents’ emotional abuse at home but being betrothed to someone she didn’t know affected her more.

He ran a hand through his dark hair before wrapping his gangly arms around her, his golden-brown eyes studying her. “They can’t do that.”

“They’re sending me off in two weeks.”

“I have an idea,” he whispered in her ear.

His idea had involved the both of them stowing away on a ship across the ocean. The idea had been brilliant ... until it wasn’t.

Zikri convinced Nahli to steal as much coin as she could from her parents, and he’d promised her they could send money when they had enough to pay them back.

He had been her childhood friend, her best friend, the one she’d fallen in love with. When they’d arrived in Kedaf, they found rest at an inn. Zikri then told her he loved her, and so she gave him the two things that were truly hers ... her heart, her body. He’d been gentle as he entered and moved inside her, even though she didn’t find the blissful release he had. She hadn’t cared.

The next morning she’d woken to him opening the door to leave.

“I’m going to get breakfast,” he’d said over his shoulder.

Something in his voice had sounded off. Yet she’d still waited.

She shouldn’t have waited.

After getting dressed, she sifted through her pack, finding her coin bag missing. He’d left her with nothing and never returned.

Tears streaked Nahli’s cheeks when she thought about the last words he’d said, and she hastily wiped them away. She didn’t want anything else to be for Zikri, including her tears.

The breeze picked up and Nahli threw on Anton’s shirt, which smelled of a combination of herbs. She allowed the comforting aroma to wash away the lingering thoughts of Zikri.

A soft nudge pushed at her ankles as the chicken curled up beside her. She scooted closer to the soft feathers of the hen and tried to drift to sleep so she could dream of somewhere better.

The dream that washed over her was of a place filled with bones.