Bone Deep(3)

“She’s dying, isn’t she?” Arrow asked and in her voice was the calm Bone needed. If only she could be like Arrow, controlling her fear and hate, settling the waters of her mind until she felt…nothing.

She could not. She wasn’t that strong. “Stop talking,” she spat. “Stop talking,” she demanded again. If they didn’t shut their mouths, Ninka would pay the ultimate price. Ninka with her yellow hair and soft skin, her fragile bones and weak mind.

Death was stalking, curling around them all with the rising wind. The hawk was a harbinger. They wouldn’t escape the black-eyed man. He knew everything.

“Gretchen, the sky is turning very blue,” Ninka whispered louder now.

Bone could see the blue. It was startling in this place of sorrow and loss. The lighter colors taunted the sky but the blue overrode them.

“Hold on, Ninka. This task is almost over,” Bullet croaked out.

“She’ll get herself killed and the rest of us punished. Shut up, Ninka, please,” Blade pleaded.

Oh, Blade was angry. Bitterness leaked into her tone and should the black-eyed man hear it, he would punish her—make her take another life and another and another until she screamed her throat raw. Blade had killed more than any of them since they’d arrived here. She lost control more than any of the rest of them, even Bone. It was always painful to watch, but stunning in its own way. Her blades made a lovely noise when they danced in the air…or across skin. For some reason when Blade was pushed close to the point of breaking it made Bone want to destroy the black-eyed man—punch through his chest, take his heart in her hands and squeeze it until he was dead, dead, dead.

One day she would be strong enough.

Her breath caught, the sound a loud click in the silence left by Blade’s plea. “Shut her up, Bullet. She’ll get us all back in the water pit,” Bone whispered.

“The sky is blue, blue, blue,” Ninka sing-songed.

Bone shuddered. The cold wrapped around her feet, moving up and coating her entire body, dispersing the warmth of her hate and locking its sharp teeth into her soul to shake and tear.

“They come,” Arrow said in her voice that spoke of ages long passed. Arrow had a voice like Bone’s ima…ancient.

“Kar li, ima” Bone said on a breath but the wind took her voice and flung it. I feel the cold, mother.

“Ninka, hush poupon, don’t say a word,” Bullet pleaded.

Ninka was beyond them all now. The Etz haChayim, Tree of Life, called and her voice would only be heard there after today.

“Bauy-bay, Bayu-bay, tomorrow is a new day,” Ninka trilled out, nearly yelling now. “Gretchen, my mama is calling me. Do you hear her?”

Panic threatened to choke Bone. Her young body was weak. Not as weak as Ninka’s but too tiny to break the binds that held her. She wanted to grab Ninka from the ground and run. Instead she closed her eyes.

“Yes, Mama, I am here…” Ninka cried softly.

The sun’s rays grabbed at the clearing where they were staked, heralding the entrance of the big, tall men coming to make sure they’d remained silent. Their boots thudded against the ground. After all, they had no need to be quiet.

The black-eyed man and his minion, the one called, Minton walked into the small clearing and there was another with them, Julio. He would be the death dealer today. In her heart she knew it to be true because he had the look of evil riding his dark face.

Her feet went numb and her vision swam as fear thrummed through her veins. It was potent and even as the cold settled over her, her bladder leaked, the wetness a frigid serpent down her leg. Her hands knotted into fists.

“Ibadti et haderekh sheli,” Bone whispered. I am lost.

“Come to me, Mama, from the very blue sky,” Ninka said in a fading, hoarse whisper.

Ninka was shavur. Broken. The weakest one of them had splintered under the force of the black-eyed man’s training and Bone’s belly burned. It was a cold fire but it blazed brightly.

The fog left a sheen on the grass that held her gaze captive. The dew was so thick it fell to the parched earth at Bone’s feet, mocking her. Even the dew was free to go where it would. Her ears rang in the sudden cacophony of silence.

“She’s tiny, Minton, but she’s survived.” The black-eyed devil said to his minion. Then to Bullet he said, “Tell me, dove, did you stay silent?”

Do not speak, Bullet. Do not, achot.

Bullet nodded her head and the black-eyed man smiled. He had been there with Minton the night her parents had been slaughtered like sheep in front of her. He had given the order. Minton had carried it out with a smile on his face much like the one the black-eyed man had now.

They would both pay. She would break them into tiny pieces and eat their flesh so they did not rise again and they never knew another life. She had not been taught the softer emotions like love, but she knew possession, revenge, and pain well. They’d been her mother’s milk and daily bread. The black-eyed man and Minton would eventually benefit from her rations.

“Minton, have Julio take care of little Ninka, would you?” the black-eyed man asked.

“She’s such a waste,” Minton spat and his eyes tracked to Bone. “Julio, you heard him.”

Bone stared at him, her belly still burning, her throat closing in rage. His gaze skated away from hers and she knew in that second that she would be the one of them to kill Minton—maybe she would even take him first so the black-eyed man would know she was coming. One day…