The Bone Valley, page 2
“He’s—”
Anton glanced back at his sister and pressed a hand against the gate. “Neither one of you are supposed to leave the booth unattended when you have all the merchandise exposed. There was a girl here earlier trying to swipe the herbs.”
Yeva’s smile faltered, then faded. “Sorry, but Tasha’s not feeling good, and Pav had to stay home and look after her. Mrs. Evanko wouldn’t watch her because she didn’t want her other children to get sick.”
Anton’s back straightened with worry. “Tasha’s sick? You could have come and found me.” He would have gone home in an instant.
“From Maryska?” Yeva let out a harsh laugh. “She would have been angry with me for showing up and interrupting.”
Once, his sister had stopped by Maryska’s home to retrieve Anton when she’d thought Pav had broken his arm. Maryska didn’t know Yeva was his sister, and she’d been furious. Even after she’d learned of their sibling connection, Maryska still resented her.
Lately, Maryska had become even more jealous of the time he spent with his family.
“You still should have come, Yeva.”
She waved him off, then spread out the herbs on the counter in a precise manner and set up small display signs in front of each type. His sister’s mannerisms reminded him more and more each day of their mother’s. He prayed the day would never come when he recognized the same haunted sadness in her eyes. The deep depression after Tasha’s birth that had driven her to hang herself from a tree. His father had told them she just wasn’t ready for another child.
“I have to see Maryska tonight,” Anton said, stomach sinking at the thought of it.
“Already?” Yeva threw her hands above her head. “You’re supposed to have dinner tonight with us and Ionna.”
“We really need the coin,” he muttered while helping Yeva organize the herbs.
His sister gripped his callused hand and stopped him from setting down a bundle of thyme. “No, we don’t. The business has been picking up and seeing that I’m to marry Ionna in the summer, I’d like you to spend more time with her.”
Anton slipped out of her grasp. “You’re too young to get married.” Ionna was a good enough woman, and she had her own farm at only twenty, but he didn’t want his sister to feel as if she needed to marry someone.
“I will be eighteen by then.”
“No matter.” Anton knew he was hitting a wall because she was set on marrying Ionna. He only wanted her to be sure about it.
“Ionna promised to take care of all of us, and I will continue to work the market. It’s not only that—I love her. You know I wouldn’t marry someone only for money.” She paused, then clapped her hands. “Oh, and she told me she found work for you.”
“What kind of work?” Anton lifted a skeptical brow. But he would take any other trade he could if the coin was right. Yeva might be all right with Ionna taking care of the rest of his family, but he wasn’t. He wanted to provide for Pav and Tasha, not Yeva having to do everything.
“Gathering herbs.” She smiled, though it looked more as if she were wincing.
“You mean you found me work.” He hated to think that Yeva bothered Ionna to do this for him. Yeva’s poor brother can’t find honest work on his own.
“Just take it until you find something better. Please?” she begged, clasping her hands and knocking them against the wooden table.
Anton pressed his lips into a thin line. She had taken on a parental role in the family after their birth mother had died, and he just couldn’t tell her no.
“Fine, but only after I get the rest of my coin tonight, then I promise I will do what you ask.”
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.
