A TINY FRACTURE

WREN

A t my words the children burst from their seats, a joyful ruckus of thumping chairs and knocked over books as they rush from the room.

A few yell over-the-shoulder good-byes to Hollis, but most, in their haste, simply explode from the room like iced branches in the winter.

Hollis shoots a worried look my way, then follows them from the room, shouting instructions.

Only Marrin glances longingly at the door before carefully approaching me and pausing in front of me.

“BoneKeeper?” he asks respectfully, waiting for me to turn my head towards him.

“Yes, my little Protector?” I reply, affection clear in my words, and at the sound, he straightens and smiles, pride clear on his thin little face.

“Will you be alright if I go see the Hunters, or do you need me?” Determination is written in every line of his body; he stands in front of me like a soldier awaiting orders.

And something very new, and very painful, cracks my heart into pieces, tiny spiderwebs of longing so crippling I can barely breath.

“I–” I have to clear my throat to continue. “I appreciate your thoughtfulness, Marrin. I will be fine on my own. But thank you for thinking of me.”

He nods seriously. “If you do need me, you can just call for me and I’ll come.

I’m in the Third Ring of the village. Marrin, Caris’s son.

” Seeing my eyes widen in response, he grins, a lightning bright flash of happiness breaking through clouds.

“They let me in the second ring school because I’m smart.

Ms. Hollis says I’ll be in the first ring school by next year.

I’ll try to make it there sooner. It will help if I’m closer to you. ”

The little fractures in my heart turn to canyons at his words, and I can’t speak for a long, long moment. “Won’t your mother mind being so far from you?” I ask gently, not wanting to turn down the gift he is giving me. He stares down at his shoes, drags a scuffed toe through the dirt on the floor.

“She passed in the last Storm season, Keeper. It is only me and my aunt. And she won’t mind me gone.

One less mouth to feed.” The steely determination is still there, but now it’s melting into sadness.

His voice drops to the hush of early morning, hard truths being faced with bravery beyond his years.

“It would be a relief, I think. I am not her child, and these are hungry times.”

Without thinking, I run my hands through my hair, along my braids.

I don’t even need to ask — the bones I am looking for loosen before my fingers touch them, and I kneel in the dirt before him.

“Well, now Marrin. I have some friends I would like you to meet. They are...very dear to me.” Holding out the bones balanced carefully on my palms, I point to the first grouping.

“Before she went to bone, she was a baker in this village.” She murmurs quietly under my fingers, and I smile; Marrin tilts his head, looking at me curiously.

“I’m sorry. Of course.” I offer the bones, and explain to Marrin.

“She says to let you know she was not a baker, but rather the baker. The best of the lot.” He grins again in response, but still looks perplexed.

“She has seven children in the village, has always been a mother. And came to me when I needed her most. She is asking if you would do her the honor of wearing her. If you need me, she will tell the rest of the bones in the village, and I will come to you if I am able. ”

His eyes are wide, startled, but he only says, “What…what if you need me , BoneKeeper?”

“Well.” The word is a stone in my throat. “ Well . We will figure that out. But for now, will you wear her?”

BoneKeeper…. Lorcan is unsettled, but it is too late. I already have a foot off the cliff’s edge and am leaning forward.

“And the others?” He’s less hesitant now, curiosity riding his voice like a mountain hawk.

“This is one of her children. And where she goes, he follows as well.” Marrin smiles with the understanding of youth.

Where a mother goes, her children are close behind.

Then his eyes darken, face falling as the thought hits too close to home.

Trying to distract him, I tilt my head, considering the baker.

“Perhaps — let us think. A necklace, Marrin?”

He nods in reply, and I loosen a leather band in my hair, then tie three small distal phalanges and two larger carpals in a pattern, before fastening it around his neck and tucking it beneath his shirt.

“Keep that against your skin, please.” I pause, fear sudden and wild in my heart, and my voice drops into warning.

“They are not toys or things to brag about. They are a secret between us and us alone. And they are my friends.”

“I wouldn’t, Keeper. I promise.”

“I believe you.”

There is a sound at the door, and in silent accord, we step back from each other just as Hollis re-enters. She tilts her head, watching the scene before her but not understanding what she is seeing. Marrin takes a deep breath, and turns to her with a set expression.

“I didn’t want to leave the Keeper alone. It seemed disrespectful.”

Her face softens, and she smiles. “You are thoughtful as ever.”

He smiles, not a grin, more a tight baring of teeth, and shrugs. “You’re here now, so I guess I can go. If the BoneKeeper doesn’t need me,” he adds, almost as an afterthought. He is such a little adult.

In a moment of rare sisterhood, Hollis shoots me an amused look before shaking her head at the emptiness in my white eyes. Quietly dismissing him, she straightens and presses her hands together, bowing low before me.

“‘I’m so sorry, BoneKeeper. They’re usually better behaved. It’s just…”

“There’s no need for apology, Hollis.” Merriment still shadows my voice, hiding in the corners. “They’re just excited. I imagine many of them have parents who went on the hunt. You have the patience of the Goddess, though. I’m exhausted and it’s only been a few moments.”

Ducking her head, she risks a small smile, thinking I can’t see her response. She pauses, then decides to chance a conversation. “Do you mind if I ask you a question, Keeper?”

“Not at all, Hollis.”

“Was the history you were taught so different?” Real curiosity is in her voice, and I recognize the thirst for information. It is a mirror of my own.

I will play pretend for a moment, that I am a girl at the school whispering with a friend.

The thought is enticing. Too much so, and it makes me careless.

“It was. You did not mention the TriGoddess, or the bone history. And—” this with a wry twist of my lips, despite my best intentions, “the Council played a much larger role in the saving of our people in your tale.”

Keeper! Be cautious! Not all faces are friendly just because they smile. The Hunter in my hair whispers in a rare rebuke, and Lorcan has the feel of frowning down my back, a cold finger tracing my spine. Hollis tilts her head, a considering look on her face.

“Of course,” I add thoughtfully, carefully, “I did not attend school as such. So I am sure you have a more…structured…approach…My education was perhaps a bit haphazard. Not as curated.”

She brightens, nodding. “That makes sense. You would not have had the approved history, maybe.”

Fingering my necklace, I agree in a quiet tone. “Maybe.” Looking around the room, I tilt my head curiously, and a bit of ice seeps back into my voice. “Hollis. Where are the bones?”

She freezes at the question, a deer in a hunter’s sight. “The, uh, bones? Keeper?” Her eyes dart around the room frantically, and I turn the full force of my white gaze on her. She crumbles beneath its weight.

“The Schoolhouse bones. They’ve earned their place within these walls. Where are they? I will not ask again.”

“Councilman Raek…suggested that perhaps…they were distracting to the…learning environment…”

“ Did he.” It’s not a question, and she’s shaking at the sound of my vertebracelets clacking on my wrists as my fingers flex.

Temper, temper Little Keeper. Lorcan’s voice has forced cheerfulness in it, as though he’s trying to calm the Everfire that flares to life in my stomach, but he is too late.

“I will visit this room again in two days time,” I say, very, very quietly, all traces of our temporary comradery gone.

“I expect the bones to be back in their places within its walls by the time I return.” She is shaking, but not enough.

Not enough. And the Everfire inside me explodes into frost. “And I will relay the children the history of our land as told by those bones. The correct history.”

Lorcan and the hunter groan in unison. Little Keeper…Keeper!

“Keeper…” Hollis echoes. She sounds terrified, but on this I will book no argument.

“It’s not a request.” The room is grave silent, except for the click-click-click from my arms, and she nods slowly. “You understand?”

“I…I understand, BoneKeeper. But, the Councilman…”

“That is my business. Yours is here.”

She nods again, and looks sick to her stomach, but I don’t care.

To move any, any of the bones in this village without my approval is…

it’s unthinkable! Where have I been that such a thing happened?

You are always in the Council House or away with the dead, my mind whispers insidiously.

You have spent too much time on the wrong side of the veil.

It is where I belong! I argue back with myself. With the living bone. It is more my home than anywhere else.

Is it? Is it? The question rings in my head, unanswered, and a shiver runs down my spine. Is it ?

If it isn’t, then there is no place for me anywhere on this earth, now or in the next life. If I am not meant for the dead, and not meant for the living, perhaps…perhaps…

Perhaps I am not meant to be.

At all.