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ANTON
Over the past few days, Anton had remained inside the cottage. Nahli’s words had been a blow, and he believed it would be in his best interest if he didn’t see her again.
A light knock tapped at the door. His flames lifted to the ceiling, then back toward the beast carving he was working on. He’d already completed the other two, but perfecting all the minuscule eyes took time and precision.
The knock came again.
It could only be one of two people—one woman and one animal, to be precise. He ignored it, but the door cracked open. He should have locked it.
“May I come in?” Nahli asked, her voice hesitant as she peeped half her skull around the door.
“You’re already in the doorway, aren’t you?” He continued staring at his carving.
“I wanted to apologize,” she murmured.
With the sharp point of his tool, he dug out small shavings from the wood piece. “It took you long enough.”
“I was mad and frustrated, but I promise I didn’t mean it.” Her tone came out pleading.
His gaze met hers then, and he set the knife and carving beside him. “By the way, I never meant for you to be my queen literally when I brought you back to life. Being alone here—in this place—it was doing things to my mind. I never expected you to be able to move and talk, let alone that you would be the thief from the market.”
Without being asked, Nahli closed the door behind her and sank down on the settee, all the way at the opposite end. He almost chuckled, seeing her so tense and nervous.
“Look, I tried to find a proper trade,” she started. “Most of the vendors and shops didn’t need anyone, or I wasn’t qualified, or they didn’t want someone from Huadu, or it didn’t make as much coin as I needed. I was living under a bridge, for the love of bones!”
His head twisted to hers, his flames expanding. “Love of bones?”
“I was bored out there, desperate even, and came up with new terminology to occupy my time.”
“Please don’t ever use that sentence again. I think you can come up with something better.”
“I was only trying to add a little humor.”
He shrugged, amused. “Then, for the love of bones, continue using it.”
“You can have a sense of humor if you try.” Nahli laughed. “Anyway, the thing is, what you did for a living takes bravery. I’m not that brave. It’s impossible for me to hold back emotions when being that close to another.”
He ground his teeth in contemplation. “I’m not very brave either. I loathed it, especially during this last year.”
Silence lengthened between them until she reached for the carving beside him, bringing it up to her face. Her jaw hung slightly open as she rotated the beast several times between her pale fingertips.
“It’s eerie how closely it resembles the things out in the woods.” She carefully set it back down.
“Its twins are on the table.” He pointed at the other two completed beast carvings. “Or should I say triplets?”
Her gaze followed his. “Will you make me something, possibly a ship?”
“I don’t know.” His jaw dropped into a smile. “I think you still owe me for stealing my clothing.”
“But you stole my satchel.” She nudged his leg with her hand.
“Was it your satchel to begin with?”
She crossed her arms over her ribs. “That isn’t the point.”
“Ah, my queen, but it is,” he taunted.
“Don’t start.”
Thinking they were finished when they both stayed quiet, he reached for the knife to begin carving again.
“I want to show you something.” She stood from the settee, motioning him forward. “Possibly a good secret.”
“I’m intrigued,” Anton said, stretching before moving for the door. “Where’s Roka?” He was surprised the little meerkat hadn’t followed her inside like the last time.
“He’s right outside.” As soon as she pulled open the door, Roka was there.
He stood on his haunches, hands curved downward in front of him. “I didn’t want to bother you until you were ready to come back out.”
“I don’t think he would have shown up if I hadn’t retrieved him,” Nahli teased as she entered the fogless afternoon.
What she didn’t know was that eventually he would have left the cottage. It would have taken a few more days for him to cool off, but he would have gone to the lake, then to find her. Being truly alone wasn’t as easy as he’d always thought.
“How’s your leg?” Nahli reached for his trousers.
Despite his injury, it hadn’t bothered him enough to inspect the wound. Anton rolled up his pant leg to expose the punctured holes, still there, like a scar.
“The wound is still on my arm, too.” She placed the scar near his flames, the hairline crack looking the same as it did the day she fell.
Anton wondered what would happen if one of them broke a bone. Would it heal, or forever be split into two? He would have to make sure they didn’t do anything too reckless.
“Now what did you want to show me? A palm reading?” He chuckled, holding up his hand and wiggling his fingers.
“I will never attempt that again,” she promised. “No, I went ahead and built more skeletons with Roka’s help.”
Anton entered the garden behind her, and focused on a long row of at least twenty dusty skeletons. “I’m impressed.”
“I also learned how to do this without you standing beside me.” She held up her hand. “Light.” A white orb with a black flame center, that matched Anton’s, appeared in her palm.
Anton’s skull angled to Roka. “Can you do this, too?”
The meerkat held up his empty hand, dejection in his voice. “Afraid not.”
“That’s a shame. It appears right when we need it, yet the orb doesn’t do much good besides give off light.” He thought about when he’d changed the orb into a ball of fire and threw it at the beast in the woods. All it did was create smoke.
“Off,” Nahli commanded, and the orb disappeared. “So I was thinking we could keep on building the skeletons, and perhaps, eventually we could find a way to bring them back to life. Most of all, it would be better than leaving them as broken remains on the ground.”
Anton would do what he could to pass the time, but it wasn’t just that. By the way she squared her shoulders, she seemed so determined, focused. And because of that, he wanted to help her.
Before they started, there was something he needed to tell her. “Outside ... when I mentioned that I wish I would have left you how you were? I didn’t mean it. It was something I shouldn’t have said, because that would mean you would still be dead. That is something I would never wish for you, no matter what else happened between us in the past.”
Nahli bowed her head, avoiding his flames. “No, it’s understandable. You had a right to voice your anger after what I said.”
“Let’s agree to disagree on that.”
“Fine, but I’m right.” She held up a finger to prevent him from arguing, then gazed out into the distance of the bone mountains. “Where do you want to start?”
“Hmm.”
He tapped his chin and walked to the end of the row, passing by skeletons with curly hair to their waist, short hair, straight hair, yet all the same pale shade. From the sky, a sizzle and boom sounded as skeletons rained down, reminding him that no matter how many they built, the task would never be complete.
“We can begin here.”
Anton rifled through a tiny hill of what would perhaps add up to ten skeletons. Through the remains, he searched for all the parts that would belong to the people’s feet, so they could build upward like before. It would be trial and error to discover whose pieces would fuse together.
As they assembled the skeletal parts of each person, Anton wondered if his parents were somewhere in the Bone Valley. He’d been angered by them both for so long, but he didn’t think they should end up this way. They weren’t terrible people—his mother couldn’t handle life anymore, and his father chose thieving when he couldn’t provide for four kids by himself.
He watched Nahli as she shifted her jaw to the side and clenched it, not willing to give up. Something struck him right then, as he studied her. Perhaps they could have been friends before all this had happened. If the circumstances had presented one more run-in with each other, then they could have had a discussion. If only...
Day in and day out, Anton and Nahli slept and breathed building skeletons together. He’d been tired at times. She’d been the same. But they continued on because that was all they’d had, to wake and construct bones. Sometimes she was quiet, but mostly she wasn’t. He had to admit that he didn’t mind the words spilling out from her, and he found himself wanting to learn more about her.
Anton’s thoughts were interrupted by Roka’s shouting. “Anton! Nahli!” He scampered toward them on all fours, propping back on his hind legs. “I must show you something.”
Nahli finished placing a clavicle bone on the skeletal frame that she was working on. Then her hands fell to her own pelvic bone. “What do you need to show us?”
Roka waved them on as he jutted forward, not waiting for them to follow. Anton started behind Nahli and caught up to Roka as he led them to the garden, where there were holes dug everywhere throughout the dirt.
“Is this what you wanted to show us?” Anton asked, incredulous, folding his arms over his chest. “A bunch of holes you’ve dug?”
Roka gestured repeatedly toward the gaping opening in front of him. Anton pushed forward to glance inside, his flames locking on a crystallized flower hidden in the dirt’s depths. Vibrant. Sparkly. Blue, the color of sapphires. Startled, he swiftly yanked it out from the shallow hole as if it would vanish. And that was precisely what happened as the flower withered in his hand, losing its color and changing into alabaster bone.
Nahli’s teeth parted as she stepped to another hole, peering inside. He moved behind her and followed her gaze. She shot him a glance over her shoulder, and Anton realized his hands were cradling her upper arms, so he hastily dropped them.
Inside the open space, covered in dirt granules, lay a blood-red rose with glistening ivy-colored leaves, resembling the sheen of glass. Nahli pressed her hand into the pocket and withdrew the flower. As before, when it hit the light fog, the flower turned to pale bone.
“This must have been what the flowers looked like before,” she said, stepping to another spot.
“Good job, Roka,” Anton muttered, tightening his jaw. “What did this prove, exactly? That we can pull up colored flowers, only to let them die?”
Instead of seeing this as a miracle, all it did was make Anton feel worse about himself and this place. He wished he could do more, for Nahli, for Roka, for these nameless people who were no more.
Roka didn’t seem the least bit bothered by Anton’s reaction. “It proves that perhaps, somehow, life can be restored. If these exist underground, color has not dissipated entirely.”
“What do you suggest, then?” Anton asked, pointing to the skeletons they’d built and then toward the dirt. “To bury everyone underground? The rest of their bodies are still in Maryska’s lake.”
“No, but eventually it may be possible we can find a way,” Nahli piped in. “Let me try something.” She placed the bone flower back inside its grave and waited. No change. “We’ll still find a way.”
Anton pinched the edges of his eye sockets where his nose had been, then looked up at Roka. “The only way I see us accomplishing anything would be to go out the door of the tree, but it’s locked.”
“Have you even attempted to open it?” Roka asked, his tone sounding like he didn’t believe Anton.
“I tried it the first day I was here, and so did Nahli.”
“And I’ve tried every morning,” Nahli said, inching closer to Anton like she was protecting his story.
Roka lifted his hands to his head, appearing more human than animal. It was an outlandish sight.
“There isn’t a keyhole either”—Nahli stared off into the direction of the gnarled tree—“so it’s strange that it would be locked.”
“No stranger than anything else here.” Anton exhaled. “It’s obviously Maryska’s magic holding the door. She said she’d come back for me, eventually.”
He wasn’t sure what he would do when she did make an appearance, or if she never did at all. Perhaps she’d forgotten about him and had found a new lover for herself. It wouldn’t be that difficult. But something nudged at him, and he knew she wouldn’t fail to remember him. She was a woman who went for what she wanted, and if it wasn’t possible, she managed to get it anyway.
And if Maryska did take him out of there, what would happen to Nahli? Would she leave her there? His skeletal frame stiffened at the thought, and he hurried to face Nahli.
“If Maryska comes through that door, I want you to hide. You’ll know it’s her by the protruding antlers.” Anton tapped his forehead and attempted to create a visual for how long they were.
Nahli tilted her head and clasped her hands in front of her. “All right, but I’ll remain close and have your back.”
His flames drifted to the crack on her arm. They’d been out there building and building skeletons who didn’t come back to life. What kind of life was this for her? She needed something better. He needed to do something better.
“You said you’ve never been to one of the market dances, correct?”
Nahli’s flames lifted to the sky. “Well, not to dance. Only to steal things and leave. It’s easier to take items from someone when they’ve had too much to drink. Some are even willing to hand things right over.”
Unable to stop himself, he let out a rumble of laughter. It wasn’t funny, yet somehow it was.
“Is that a real laugh, Anton? Did I just make you laugh?” Something akin to a smile formed in her words.
Since he was unable to see her facial expression, it was much easier knowing how she felt through words and movements. But still, oh, how at that moment he wished for those dimples of hers to appear with a real smile.
Anton wasn’t sure why, but he planned to do something nice for her. Perhaps because she, too, was stuck in this endless purgatory with only him and a meerkat who could talk.
“We’re going to take a break for now,” he murmured. “When the fog grows the thickest, I want you to come search for me. Wear the nicest dress you can find.” His gaze trained on her slacks. “Or nicest trousers, I don’t care. But just come. Tonight, we are going to dance, and tonight, we are going to remember what it’s like to live.”
Nahli didn’t answer for a long beat, making it seem as though he should have reeled back his suggestion, until she finally did.
“I’ll come, but it won’t only be for one night, Anton. We will have plenty of other nights to try new things,” she said softly.
She was right. For now, they may not be able to leave the Bone Valley, but that was no reason to do nothing. Anton would build with her as many skeletons as she desired, because he wanted to do something for someone else.
And she was the one.
