Page 135

A SLOW SLIDE

WREN

“ H ave you never seen something like this?” Teo’s voice is flat, empty, but he is making an effort, trying so hard it almost breaks my heart.

And so I try back, even though I want to be silent, to enjoy the rare moment not surrounded by people and animals and unceasing noise. “I have, but only in bone memories. They called it a lake, I think. It wasn’t quite like this, but similar enough.”

Stretched before us is a wide, still body of water, five or six times larger than the biggest pond from my village.

You can see the other side, more or less, but it’s obscured by early morning mist and gives the impression that the water stretches forever.

The air smells of damp soil and newly lit campfires, and an almost intoxicating denseness of crushed pine needles.

It’s cold, colder than any day yet, enough so I’m close to shivering even under the fur lined traveling cloak Teo dropped off at my tent last night.

“What is it like, Wren? Hearing their voices?” A tiny spark of life drifts through his words, and I grab it, trying to tether him back to the earth.

Teo has been nothing but unceasingly kind to me the last week; we’ve formed a strange alliance, a pattern of odd habits.

He laughs and teases me in the open camp, then collapses to my bedroll and falls into a deep, tumultuous sleep the moment he enters my tent for ‘tutoring’.

I wake him after a couple of hours and he stumbles away, back into skin he wears like a costume for the rest of the Band.

To any who would study us, even with careful eyes, we are forming a friendship of sorts, and the longer Teo is around me, the easier it makes it for other people to tolerate me.

Even Binder is said with less venom and more disdain, as though the people have come to realize the threat inherent in the word is more a nettle sting than a viper’s bite.

But he is struggling, in the moments where he thinks I don’t notice, where he thinks he’s unseen.

I missed it with Tahrik and failed a friend; I don’t want to fail Ellie as well.

This is the first time he’s really asked about the bones.

I attempted the first night he came to me after I Guided Ellie, offered to speak for her but he held up a hand to quiet me, almost choking on the words he was trying hard to swallow, and I realized that, even though he has her, it’s impossible to overcome a lifetime of misinformation in a moment.

He is battling what he knew to be true since childhood with what a stranger is telling him is true for a week.

Something in him is unsure; did he commit her soul to binding and whatever that means for their people, or has she simply been guided home, where she is safe and sheltered, and waiting to speak to him?

Purposefully letting my voice warm, I smile at him, a real smile, unmasked, and tell him the truth. “It’s wonderful, Teo. It’s a gift. They’re always so excited to tell me their stories, to get to pass along information, or reminders.”

“Reminders?” He’s curious despite himself, and I grin.

“Ooooh, yes. Bone life doesn’t change who you were in flesh life, not by half.

It’s the same soul, just a different form.

Which is fortunate for many, many people, hmm?

But some wish their relatives would mellow in bone.

” A little gurgle of laughter escapes my lips, an echo of the water lapping at the shore in front of us.

“There is one woman back home who thinks her children absolutely cannot function without her. I think perhaps she was too used to ruling her roost when in flesh, and couldn’t release it in bone.

So every time her family would visit, she’d task them — ‘have you been moving the wardrobe to sweep behind? I know you skimp on that.’ Or, ‘did you do the spring cleaning yet? We’re only a month out from haymaking!

’. And they would nod and agree like children being chided.

Grown men with hats in hands and toes tracing lines in the dirt. ”

Teo’s mouth sketches the barest hint of a smile, and I feel victorious. I’m trying, Ellie I promise her in my mind. He’ll speak to you soon, I’m sure.

“Is it enough for them though,” he asks softly, staring out at the water. “Aren’t they lonely?”

“The families?” I ask, confused, and he shakes his head.

“The bones.”

“Oh! No. Not at all. They can all talk to each other, Teo. So they chat all day.” Sighing, I stare out over the water, losing myself for a moment in tangible memory.

“The noise fills my skin until it’s taut sometimes.

Ceaseless conversations that vibrate in my marrow, even when I try to ignore them.

They’re all connected in a way, though the connection is always stronger between those who have been Guided by the same BoneKeeper. ”

Wren . Lorcan is quiet and cautious around my neck. Be careful giving away your secrets.

Is that a secret, Protector? And it’s a real question; I don’t think of the bone interactions as a secret, but perhaps I’m wrong.

Any of our people’s ways are a secret here, Little Keeper. Any information can be used against you. Even friendship wears many masques.

I…I saved Ellie for him, Lorcan. Don’t you think….

He is silent, which is reply enough. He doesn’t agree with me, but Teo is speaking again, distracting me from my Protector’s warning.

“Will you—” He swallows hard, picks up a stone, then throws it out into the lake, where it skips once, twice, and more before sinking, sending ripples across the water.

He doesn’t speak again, so I lean over to pick up a stone, similar to his, then throw it, trying to mimic his movements. It sinks immediately.

“No, Keeper. With the wrist, like this.”

He repeats it; for the life of me, I can’t see the difference between what he just did and what I tried to do, but I grab another, and another, and another, all of them plonking beneath the surface the moment they touch.

“You are unaccountably bad at this, Wren,” he says, sounding almost, but not quite, like himself again, and I huff in exasperation.

“I didn’t grow up like this, Rider. I happen to think my efforts are extraordinary.”

And now a faint smile, a shake of his head.

“Pretend you are the rock, Keeper. And the water is the world. Cast your stone out, not down. You skip lightly across the top, sending ripples out across the places you touch, but I don’t think you ever dive in completely, hmm?

Something is driving you forward, keeping you moving, keeping you from resting in one place. ”

“I would rest if I could, Rider.” It is too quiet to disguise the sadness in my voice, so I am surprised by his answer.

“Would you though?” He is thoughtful, not trying to insult me, just questioning.

“I’ve seen the way skipping stones move, Wren.

You, Axton, Kyla. You are the same in many ways.

I hope you remember that, if ever it comes to it.

That sometimes what you are seeing, feeling, are only the ripples of the moments the stone hits the water.

That many times all the stone longs to do is sink, because that’s what they are meant to do, made to do.

That it is only because of some greater force hurling you along that you are unable to stop. ”

I have no reply, so I just bend down and gather more stones in my hands.

There is a comfortable silence between us; when he turns to me, his face is soft with peace found somewhere in the hush of the dawning world around us. “Will you help me? With Ellie?”

“I’ve simply been waiting for you to ask,” I reply softly, smiling. Tucking most of the rocks in my pocket, I hold out a now empty hand. Looking around carefully, Teo reaches into his shirt, pulling out the pouch, and gently pours Ellie’s bone into his palm.

“It’s…I’m sorry. She’s very warm today.” He looks incredibly worried, as if something has gone wrong, and wraps his fingers around her when I reach out to take her.

“That’s because she’s being very loud at the moment,” I say, laughing lightly.

“Earth and Sky, Ellie. I can hear you. Teo can almost hear you at this volume.” Tilting my head, I listen for a moment, then look back at him.

“I can either interpret for her, meaning I’ll pass her words along for you, or I can try to let her speak through me directly to you.

I should warn you, many people don’t enjoy the latter the way they think they would. It can be unsettling.”

“Maybe just for now speak for her, BoneKeeper. That alone is still too much for me, but I’m trying.” He’s strangely formal, after all of our back-and-forth, but I know this is more than he ever thought he could do, and just nod in return.

Leaving my hand out and relaxed, I wait for him to unclench his bloodless fingers from around the smooth heel bone, and place her in my palm.

The moment he does, he turns from me again and picks up another stone, sending it out across the glass-like surface of the water.

This time it only jumps twice before sinking.

“She says that was a poor attempt. That in the past you’ve skipped a stone five times that far, and your forearms must be weakening in your old age.”

He startles, whipping his head around to face me, mouth agape, almost comically stunned. “She, what? She can see that? Me? This?” Waving his arm around vaguely, he looks poleaxed.

“Mmm. Mostly, yes. More as a sense? It’s hard to describe the way bone souls see? But yes.”

“Tell her I’m not weak,” he replies, almost affronted, and I grin.

“I don’t need to tell her anything, Teo. She can hear you. I’m going to step back, and let you two talk. So she’s not speaking through me, but it will confuse you to go back and forth with us. Just talk to her, and I’ll give you her words.”

“Ell—” He’s awkward, unsure, but pushes on. “Are you…is it painful?”