Page 78 of The BoneKeeper's Daughter

Staring at Wren’s face, brow furrowed even in her sleep, I don’t reply.

“Youwillbe leaving thisallbehind,” Silas repeats, voice deepening on the echo of Rannoch’s words.

“Well. Not all of it.” Both men tense, but they’re not the only ones who know how to play games, and I tear my eyes from Wren, trying to inject some casual levity into my voice, despite it feeling like shards of glass. “There’s still the trade to complete, no? And judging by the exchange on the steps this morning, perhaps we should finish that sooner rather than later. Three days of the trade is typical, but I won’t stay where we’re accused of attacking women. If things get ugly, it would be best for us to leave early.”

Silas relaxes slightly and nods in agreement. “It’s not a bad idea. Offload the food and goods, and we’ll prepare the silos.” Turning to Rannoch, he switches from friend to leader in a moment. “Gather those who need to be involved — anyone who is interested in smaller trades as well, for cloth and wares. We’ll do the town’s exchange in the Second Ring, and ours in the First, at the same time. Draw attention away from the larger of the two, try to avoid any possible interruptions. And just…if there are questions, tell them we’ll celebrate again tonight, and leave tomorrow for slow farewells, rather than rushing the exchange on our last day.”

“Good. That will work to everyone’s advantage. Nickolas and Raek should be laid up today, but in case — we’ll have it all tied and knotted before they can come in with scissors. It’s harder to undo what hasalready been done than it is to just prevent it.” Rannoch glances toward the door, then, almost as if fighting himself, turns back to Wren’s unmoving form, and lays a gentle hand on her head. Silas clears his throat, but Rannoch, voice strangled and shaking, whispers, “Don’t. Just…foronce, don’t.” He stands there beside her for what feels like a year, then leaves, saying nothing further. Silas stares after him, concern carved in every line of his clearly exhausted face.

“It is hard to lead.” I don’t mean to speak, to offer any sort of comfort, but the words are pulled from me in sympathy. Silas doesn’t look at me, just exhales slowly, then scrubs a hand across his face.

“It is.” His reply is almost silent, but in the quiet room even a whisper is a yell, and I can’t help but feel pity for the amount of pain clear in the two simple words.

“This isn’t a place for the soft, Wren said. I don’t think I understood her when she first told me, but it’s becoming clearer now.”

“Wren told you that?” He looks at me curiously, then both of us are jerked like puppets on strings to face a tiny, exasperated voice barely emerging from the cocoon on the bed.

“Are we justallcalling me Wren now?” It’s only a heartbeat of sound, but rushes through me like a song, and I have to fight to keep myself from picking her up and stealing her from this place forever.

“Youtoldme to call you Wren,” I say jokingly, purposefully affronted, and am rewarded by the small twitch of her lips from behind her hands, though her eyes stay closed and her face unmoving.

“Hmph.” I can’t help but smile at the disgruntled sound. Silas is more cautious, though, looking back and forth between the two of us as if trying to gauge the waters.

“Are you…how are you feeling, Keeper?”

She laughs a little, but it is a bitter, shattering glass sound, not the gurgle of water I heard from her yesterday. “Oh, I’mverywell, can you not tell, Father?”

His face clenches. “Do you need anything?”

She still hasn’t moved, as though just speaking is taking all of her energy, and anything else would be too great of an effort.

“Can you rewind time?” she asks, and I can see the words hit him.

“No.”

“Then nothing from you.”

“I have water, food…” He looks around, taking in the room. “More blankets?” He pauses, then, softly, “Two of the village women offered their company. Bri and Grace. If you would like it.”

I can tell the words surprise her, even if she hasn’t changed from her position curled tightly in the corner of the bed. “Not today. But…maybe….maybe tomorrow. If I am able.”

“Alright.” Reluctance is clear in his voice, but he continues. “Trader — we will run out of time if we don’t leave soon.”

“Time for what?” she asks, and he sighs.

“We have to move the trade up a little. We’ll begin today, and then will have tomorrow for anything left, if needed. Due to unforeseen circumstances, the trade will be cut short.”

Startled, her eyes finally open, and I want to pull my knife and cut every single throat in the town when I see the burst blood vessels staining her white eyes. “Kaden?” My name is a rainfall of questions, not a single drop, but many, many, all contained in a solitary word. And I don’t know how to answer any of them.

“I’m here, Wren.”

“Until tomorrow.”

I feel like I’ve swallowed stones, and they sit, lodged in my throat, blocking sound, strangling air. Silas answers for me. “Yes, Keeper. Until tomorrow.”

“Ah.” The exhale is heartbreaking, as if all happiness left her lungs with her breath. Then, voice calm and empty, “I wish you safe passage home, Trader.” Her eyes close again, only the faintest glimmer of moisture on her lashes revealing anything. She is turned away from me, her fingers closing to tight fists around her necklace, and Silas shakes his head slowly.

“I’m sorry, BoneKeeper. Truly.”

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