Page 45 of The BoneKeeper's Daughter

Fine.Fine!All else is unknown, why not this as well? Stabbing trees and the fainting sickness, leeching bones and blood soaked ground.Nothingis as it should be. And a command from the Guiding Knife with no explanation? In the crown and at the heart?Fine.Getting to my feet, I stumble to the corner where my crown is kept and jam it mutinously onto my head, ignoring the way it feels like fingers grasping at my skin, then pull off my shirt and quickly, without dwelling too long on the action, cut a waning and waxing crescent shape over my heart, one on either side of my breast. Pulling Lorcan off from my neck, I wrap his bones around me, winding them through the moon curving on my skin. It is incredibly and surprisingly awkward, though I try to ignore the feeling, binding him in place with a length of cloth wrapped around my ribs like a high belt. The knife is…satisfied? I’m not sure entirely, but whatever awareness is there fades away as Lorcan strengthens.

What? Little Keeper, what?...

His incredulity pulls a rusty sort of laugh from me, though no one else would think to call it such. “Don’t get comfortable there, Protector.” The silence is so awkward that my lips twitch up against my will. “If you’re feeling better, will you…whathappened?”

It takes him a long,longtime to respond, and when he does, his voice is bright and alive, but choked.Poison in the water, perhaps. I was too tired to…Rannoch and Silas rescued…I’m sorry, Keeper. This is impossible. Put me down your back again, and we will discuss it all.

“No. Not until you are soaked through. Don’t test me on this, Protector.”

I can tell he wants to argue back, but a cautious knock at the door interrupts us.

“Yes?” I snap the word out sharply, fumbling with my shirt and dress. An uncertain murmur answers, so soft I can’t make it out, so I stomp over to yank the door open.

Marrin is there, looking hesitant and scared, but determined, and I settle my face into a placid expression immediately.

“Marrin! Is all well?”

He nods and shrugs in the way of children, all one seamless motion. “I heard you were unwell, BoneKeeper, so I asked my aunt to make you some soup.”

A small clay pot hangs at his side; he peers around me into my room cautiously. “I can put it on your table for you if you’d like, Keeper.”

“That was kind of you, to think of me.”

“Maybe notsonice. She’s not the best cook, BoneKeeper…” He grimaces, then looks guilty. “But she tries.”

“And how are my friends?” Running a gentle hand over his head, I greet the Baker and her son fondly. The Baker is surprisingly lively.

It’s good to see you, Keeper.

“How is life with Marrin?” I ask curiously.

He’s a wonderful boy, Keeper. A true joy. It is good to have a little one again to watch over.

Marrin tries to wait patiently for me to finish, but shifts back and forth on his feet before finally bursting out, “What does she say?”

I grin at him. “She says you’re nothing but trouble. A terrible child.”

He startles, then grins back. “You’re teasing me!” Astonishment fills his young voice, and I mimic his earlier shrug and nod.

“Perhaps,” I reply, and he laughs. The bones in my room echo the sound like wind chimes; they delight in his happiness, an unusual emotion within my home.

“Would you like to take a walk, BoneKeeper?” he asks courteously. “The sun is almost warm today, and I know you’ve been unwell.” Straightening, he puffs out his chest, an unconscious mimicry of older men. “If you’ll trust me, I can make sure you’re alright.”

“I…” Lorcan is still draped at my breast, and I should move him first, but my room suddenly seems dark and oppressive, and a breeze from outside smells like fresh hay and late autumn. Whirling around, I grab a high collar cloak which hides my bone necklace, and slip on my low boots. “You’ll have to guide me, Protector. I have no bones on today.”

Clearing his throat, he glances at my head where my crown is still fixed in place, then back down at his shoes. “Oh. Well. I suppose I have some.” I’m oddly reluctant to remove my crown, and grab my Guiding Knife as well. I hesitate, then fasten it inside my waistband, against my skin. “Not far though, Marrin. I’m…rather tired.”

He looks determined at the words, an oddly serious expression on his young features, and he extends his arm courteously. “Don’t worry, BoneKeeper. I’ll keep you safe.”

As always, he makes me want to cry with his ways, a painful lump of emotion knotting my throat. “Thank you,” I murmur, and he nods before leading me from the room out onto the rough, worn walk.

Keeper, this is untenable. Move me before you go.

His voice is tight and thin, but certain.

You are still too weak.

Lorcan feels like he is going to protest, but is interrupted by Marrin, and quiets.

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