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NAHLI
Nahli’s eyelids dropped, opened, and dropped again before she pried them up. No, not eyelids, but flames. Her body slumped to the floor with delirium. Two arms caught her around her rib cage, with two soft words coming out from between his teeth.
“Welcome back.”
Memories swarmed around her skull, trapping her in darkness. She let out a scream of terror, jolting forward in an attempt to escape the arms capturing her. They only tightened as she screamed louder. “Let me go. Let me go. Let. Me. Go!”
The arms loosened, releasing her, and she drooped like a wilting flower to the floor, her skeletal hands propping her up. She breathed heavily, catching a scent of nothing. That was all there was. All she was.
A small body appeared before her, an animal of bones, holding his hands up for her to not be frightened. “It is only me.”
It took her a moment. Only one to recognize him. Roka.
Turning her body around, she came face to face with the skeletal man who had been holding her. “Anton,” she whispered, ashamed. “I—I’m sorry I reacted that way.”
Coming down to a crouch beside her, Anton placed her hand in between his. “If you need to scream more, let it out, as long and as many times as you wish. I’ll cover the sides of my skull since my ears aren’t attached at the moment,” he teased, but she could have sworn she heard a sniffle as well.
She wanted to smile, but she just ... couldn’t. It was as though she was still trapped back in that place, that darkness where others came and haunted her, never once leaving her alone.
Anton must have sensed that she wasn’t all right because he pulled her into his lap, cradling her as he rested his chin on top of her head. And she let him.
Roka maneuvered himself forward and wrapped his hand around her thumb. “Anton went through the entire Bone Valley searching through all the remains to find your pieces and rebuild you.”
Nahli gasped, realizing how many bones he would have had to search for. She looked up at Anton. “You did that? How was that possible? What even happened?”
She didn’t know what Maryska had done exactly. One moment she was there with Anton, and the next she was gone in a nightmarish place, unable to move.
“To answer your third question first,” Anton started, “Maryska separated your bones like they were before, but hid them around the entire valley. While you were absent, did you feel anything?”
She took a deep breath and lowered her head. “It’s hard to explain. I was in a place where I couldn’t feel any parts of my body. My eyes couldn’t shut, no matter how badly I wanted them to.” She didn’t want to think about that—she wanted Anton to keep talking. “And my other two questions?”
“For the first question, yes, I would do that, or at least keep trying. Maryska told me she left you conscious.” His grip on her tightened. “Of course I would scale every bone mountain until I found you. What kind of person would I be otherwise?”
Something about that answer made her non-existent stomach drop. If she’d been unconscious, would he have still sought out to find her? She wouldn’t have blamed him for that, though—the task had been near impossible.
“And my second question?” she asked.
“Do you remember how our orbs circled each other in the air, in what resembled a dance?” he murmured.
How could she forget? It had been one of the most miraculous sights she’d ever seen. “Yes.”
“Roka suggested asking the orb to search for you, since they’re made from us. I’d hoped it would work, and that the light would still be hidden inside your bones. It must have been true, because the orb found all of you. All I had to do was dig and retrieve, so perhaps it was a bit of cheating at such a foul game.” He let out a low chuckle, his bones rattling against hers.
And Nahli smiled.
Roka released her thumb and came closer. “Do not even ask how I knew that. As I told Anton, it was more of an instinct.”
“I could believe anything at this moment,” she said, forcing herself to stay smiling as she thought again about Maryska’s torture.
“How’s your leg?” Anton asked, concern filling his words.
“My leg?” she asked, but couldn’t see anything under the dress.
Then she remembered Maryska breaking her leg, and she lifted the skirt of the dress up to expose it. Across the bone rested a thin jagged line—a new scar to add to the one on her arm.
With a gentle brush, Anton ran a finger over the line. “It doesn’t hurt, does it?”
“No, it’s fine.” If she had eyelashes, they would have fluttered right then at his touch.
As her thoughts turned to Maryska again, something more than hatred crackled through her bones. Maryska was beautiful on the outside, but on the inside, there was only cruelty. In the world, she’d encountered people like that. But this was worse because Maryska caused the ruination of everyone’s afterlife.
At some point Roka had died, and what should he have been doing in the afterlife? Basking in a garden of real flowers, perhaps while stuffing his belly with bugs and fruit. Instead, Roka had been broken into bones, buried in a garden, and he couldn’t even remember anything of his past.
“She’ll be back, won’t she?” The question wasn’t directed at Anton or Roka, it was almost as if she was talking to herself.
Roka’s head tilted toward Anton, waiting for him to answer.
Anton took a few moments to speak, his voice resigned. “Maryska left the door unlocked for me. When I gave up my search for you, she expected me to come and find her.”
Peeling herself out of the comfort of Anton’s lap, Nahli stood to full height. She stretched her spine and for the first time since being back in her bones, anticipation and a bit of eagerness were there to drive her forward. “The door is unlocked?”
Anton rose from the floor and gritted his teeth. “Yes, but I’m not going through it.”
“Why not?” Roka chirped.
“It’s none of your business, Roka,” Anton scolded. “We aren’t going through the damn door.”
“Then what will happen when Maryska grows bored,” Nahli started, “and decides to come back here because you never went to her? What happens if she breaks you apart this time? Trust me, you won’t want to be conscious with the visions.” Nahli held her hands up, then yanked at the hair near the edge of her scalp. If there was an option to try and leave, she would take it.
“Visions?” Anton asked.
“My own personal purgatory, Anton. I can’t stay here—I won’t stay here.” She tightened her fists and took heavy breaths.
“You won’t let me go alone either, will you?” He ran his hands through his messy ponytail and jerked the strap out that was holding his hair back.
In response, she narrowed her flames at him.
“We will all go together,” Roka answered.
Anton folded his arms across his ribs. “No.”
“Yes.” Nahli placed her hands on her hip bones, and they both stared each other down.
Neither one budged, until finally, one did.
“All right,” Anton grumbled, holding up a finger, “but I need to get one night of sleep before we leave.”
Did Anton not take any breaks while searching for her? She assumed he had, and it made something selfishly flutter inside her chest knowing he hadn’t.
She could do that. Besides, she could use the sleep, too.
Nahli nodded and as she started for the front door, Anton caught her hand before her fingertips touched the handle. “Please, don’t leave.”
“I was only going to rest in the other cottage.” She didn’t want to sleep out in the garden any time soon, for fear of being caught off guard again by Maryska.
“Will you stay here for the night?”
The ghostly flutters beneath her rib cage accelerated because he was worried about her. Wouldn’t she feel the same way if she’d traded places with him? Now that she thought about it, she really didn’t want Anton to stay alone, either.
“Yes, I’ll stay here.”
“You can take the bed. I’m used to sleeping on the settee anyway.”
“I’m going to another cottage for a while,” Roka said.
“Are you sure?” Nahli asked.
“Yes, I have to keep myself busy. I can’t stay in one place.”
Anton opened the door for Roka, and the meerkat darted out into the fog. He stayed silent and turned to Nahli.
She didn’t know what to say or why she was feeling strange, different. No, she knew. She’d felt the same with Zikri. Worse, she’d known Zikri for almost all her life, and he had still turned his back on her. Yet this man who she hadn’t known for that long had done more for her than anyone ever had. And she knew Anton wasn’t the kind of person to act as Zikri had.
“I’ll see you in the morning,” she finally said, breaking the silence.
Quietly, Anton headed for the settee, scooping up his knife and part of a carving from the table. “Let me know if you need anything.”
Nahli thought he was tired, but perhaps his head spun with too many thoughts. Like hers.
Once inside the bedroom, she drew the covers back and slid underneath them. Her bones sank into the cushions, comforting her into possible sleep.
Only, she couldn’t sleep. Tossing and turning. Tossing and turning. Closing her flames, opening her flames. Every time she shut them, she could see everyone she’d stolen something from. Frustrated, she released a small grunt, trying to squash the memories.
A knock on the half-opened door jolted her from her struggling.
“Are you all right?” Anton asked, cracking open the door all the way.
She clutched the blanket to her chest. “No, not really.”
“May I come in?”
“Why aren’t you asleep?” She bet he’d been carving this entire time.
He entered the room but remained several paces away. “I’m ... trying.”
“By carving?” She smiled.
“Generally, carving helps me drift off, but it hasn’t yet.”
Dragging herself up to a sitting position, Nahli leaned her back against the headboard and watched as he settled at the edge of the bed, his glowing flames studying her.
“Why can’t you sleep?” she asked.
His teeth ground back and forth. “Maryska.”
“Why are you so afraid of her? I fear what she can do too. But you weren’t even worried about the beasts in the forest.”
Deep laughter escaped him, and she had never heard such a beautiful sound. It felt like a rarity, or maybe there wasn’t much to laugh about in the Bone Valley. His laughs were something she wanted to grasp in the palm of her hand and keep for when she needed to feel better.
Anton clasped the back of his neck and looked up at the ceiling. “I’m not afraid of her, per se. I just don’t like encountering her and remembering how she used to make me feel. Then there is what she has done to you, to me, to everyone.”
“But you should want to destroy her.” Even if Maryska could break Nahli apart again, she couldn’t sit there and wait for the woman to return to do it.
“Oh, I want to do more than that. I want to slowly rip her head off with my bare hands and feed it to the beasts with all those eyes along their bodies, watching.” Her jaw had opened, and she must have appeared disturbed because he hurried on, “You must think me horrid with these thoughts.”
“I wasn’t upset with what you said, more surprised that it came out of your mouth.” She chuckled, stroking the edges of the blanket. “If we get to that point where anyone is going to be removing body parts, it’s going to be me.”
“Fine, but I’ll be right there beside you.”
“As for before, may I ask how she made you feel terrible?”
Anton cocked his head as if thinking how to word what he wanted to say. “I felt as though I was nothing, and that she owned me. Lessening my payments, prolonging my payments, threatening me all the time that she would destroy my reputation so no one else would want to use me. I wouldn’t have cared, but the thing was, I relied on that money. Then, finally, the night before I came here, I was going to work for my sister’s fiancée and try to do something with my carvings. No longer would I have to sell myself for coin—I had a goal that I could grasp and see it expanding. I could have been worth something.”
Why would he ever think he was nothing? “You’re worth more than you know,” she whispered.
“Thank you,” he said softly after a few moments had passed. “I’ll let you try and get some rest.”
“Please stay longer. At least for a while.” She pulled the covers back, knowing he needed someone’s company. “You look cold.”
“I’m not cold.” He smiled, but climbed in beside her. “What happened while you were gone?” His head turned to face her.
She already loathed thinking about the things she’d seen, but perhaps it was better to discuss what had happened aloud instead of bottling it up.
“When I was out there, I kept getting visited by people I’d hurt or those who’d hurt me. My parents, Zikri, a lot of villagers I’d stolen from ... you were there with your family.”
Anton’s flames flickered. “You know that wasn’t really me, right? No matter what any of those people said to you, they weren’t truly there.”
“I know. I have a lot of guilt, and no one to apologize to.” Her flames shifted to meet his. “I’m sorry, Anton. I’m sorry for that day in the market ... and your clothing.”
“I’m sorry about your satchel.” He paused as if in thought. “If I can find a way one day to return it to you, I will.”
“It was stolen anyway ... but I loved it.”
He chuckled and his white flames closed, turning into darkness behind his eye sockets. Nahli rolled onto her back and shut her flames, feeling Anton’s hand clasp hers, gripping it tight. As she drifted to sleep, she held his hand firmly, hoping it would help to keep not only her nightmares away, but his too.
Anton swept Nahli’s dark hair away from her face with a bright smile. She reached forward to touch the scar beside his right eye. Their bodies lay swaddled under the satin sheets, unclothed from the night before.
“You want to go to the market tonight?” Anton asked.
Nahli could hear the music now. “Only if you promise to dance with me the whole night.”
“Tasha might have to disagree with that.”
“Fine, I’ll share the dances with Tasha and Yeva.”
“Don’t worry, most will be saved for you.” He twisted his body, sliding her beneath him. He hovered over her, his naked skin pressing deliciously into hers.
“I like the sound of that.” She smiled.
“Keep doing that.”
“Doing what?”
“Smiling.” He placed a kiss to each side of her cheeks. “Those dimples get me every time.”
When his lips moved down to meet hers, Nahli’s flames flicked open from the taunting dream.
She shifted, discovering her skull was pressed against Anton’s ribs, her other arm draping across his spine where his stomach would have been. He painted his fingertip slowly across her upper arm, and she relaxed into the soothing motion. Then she jerked up when she again thought about her strange dream. Perhaps this kind of dream was worse than a nightmare, because it couldn’t come true. Or could it?
“I was trying to wake you but didn’t want to shake your skeleton,” Anton said. “I’m going to take a quick rinse in the lake before we leave ... if you want to go.”
She didn’t know if she should be bathing in any lakes with Anton at the moment. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t done it before, though.
“How about I meet you there? I’m going to gather some things,” she said, needing to become unflustered.
“All right.”
If she knew better, she could have sworn one of his brows was arched while looking at her, even though he didn’t have them.
When Anton left the room and after hearing the front door shut, Nahli went to the closet and grabbed a tunic and a pair of trousers that tied at the front. She thought about what she’d said about gathering some things. What should she even bring? They didn’t need food or water, or really anything.
However, there had been the beasts with the dozens and dozens of eyes. She most definitely needed a sword. After grabbing the blade and daggers, along with the clothes, she headed out to find Anton.
As she surveyed the area, there was no sign of Roka yet.
The thick fog had already lifted by the time she made her way down the pebbled path to the lake. When she rounded the corner, passing by a pile of bones and thorny weeds, there stood Anton, wearing no clothing. Water beaded on his pale bones as he pushed a leg into his trousers. Gasping when she realized she was just standing there watching him, she whirled around, and clutched the belongings to her chest.
“You can turn around, Nahli. Like I told you before, it’s just bones.”
No, no. It was more than bones. Spinning around, she marched up to him, her dress swishing as he slipped on his tunic. “If that’s so, then why do I have a dress on every time I wake in this place?”
“Uh...”
“No answer?” she demanded.
“It’s more for your benefit than mine.”
Sure it is. Nahli smiled, unbuttoning the top clasp of her dress, while his flames lowered to her hand. She didn’t know why she suddenly lacked embarrassment, growing braver. Perhaps because it was more of a challenge.
Anton leaned forward, his teeth brushing the side of her skull as he spoke. “Just know, if we do manage to retrieve our full bodies, we can do more in the lake besides swim. If you want to, that is.” Then he walked away, throwing a glance over his shoulder one more time, chuckling. “See you at the tree.”
Shaking from his bold words, what should have been her promise to him, Nahli’s frozen hand moved once again to finish unbuttoning the rest of the dress. If only what he said was possible.
She’d been dead-set on finding their bodies right when she woke in the Bone Valley until they’d entered the circular forest of death that wrapped back around to the bone pit. Then she met Maryska, and uncovered that, perhaps, things wouldn’t be as easy as she’d originally thought.
Letting the heavy dress cascade to the ground, she kicked it to the side and stepped into the lake. She rubbed off as much debris as she could, not bothering with the bottom of her feet since they would only get filthy again.
She pushed herself from the lake, not feeling a single breeze. There hadn’t been any of that here, either. After throwing on her new clothing, she carried her sword and Anton’s daggers. With all the distraction he’d caused, she’d forgotten to hand him his weapons.
Nahli still hadn’t heard the pitter patter of Roka’s feet. Hopefully, she wouldn’t have to try and hunt him down. However, when she reached the tree, Roka was perched there on his hind legs, speaking with Anton.
Anton’s gaze automatically drifted to her, and he seemed to smile.
“I come bearing gifts.” She held out the two handles of the daggers.
His flames flickered as he took them from her hand. “I don’t know how good these will be, but hopefully that”—he looked down at the sword attached to her hip—“will do some damage.”
If they didn’t, she’d find a way to do something or die again trying.
And then Nahli froze, her flames meeting Anton’s in alarm.
Someone—or something—was knocking on the tree’s door.
