The Bone Maker

by Sarah Beth Durst

  She sat back in one of the benchlike seats. The windows were slits, making the view of the opposite mountain look like a framed painting. A few seconds later, Zera climbed in with her and shut the hatch. “I hate this, and I hate you.”

  “Beats walking, doesn’t it?”

  “Doesn’t beat flying,” she snapped.

  Then the crawler lurched, and Zera clutched the walls, arms spread wide.

  Leaning her head back, Kreya closed her eyes.

  “You’re going to nap?” Zera’s voice crept up an octave.

  Eyes still shut, Kreya smiled as the crawler began to climb across the mountain.

  Chapter Six

  The crawler clung to the side of the cliff.

  “Kreya? Sweetheart?”

  Her eyes closed, Kreya contemplated pretending she was still asleep. Or dead. It had been blessedly lovely not having to listen to Zera prattle on for the last few hours.

  She felt a tickle on her cheek.

  Then a shake.

  “Dearest, the crawler isn’t moving.”

  She knew that.

  Okay, no, she hadn’t noticed. Maybe I really did fall asleep, she thought. Kreya opened her eyes to see Zera’s concerned face two inches from hers. She scrambled back, hit her head against one of the supply packs, and glared at Zera. “How long have we been stopped?”

  “A few minutes. It let out a pathetic whimper, and that was it. Good news is it hasn’t lost its grip, so hooray for that. Bad news is—”

  Kreya stuck her head out the hatch and saw the bad news. They’d been traversing the near-vertical cliff face of Mount Dorian and were about halfway across. She looked up and squinted into the sun. It was a thousand feet to the top of the cliff. And down . . . down were the deadly monster-ridden mists.

  “I’ll fix this.” She rooted through her supply of spare bones. She didn’t have any perfect replacements, which was why she hadn’t replaced them before their journey, but so long as she could get herself and Zera off this cliff . . . Opening another pack, she located her climbing gear.

  “You can’t climb out there. That’s an idiotic idea.”

  “You used to like my ideas.”

  “Of course. Back when your ideas were ‘let’s save the world,’ not ‘let’s take unnecessary risks’ or ‘let’s violate the laws of nature for personal reasons.’ I question your judgment these days.”

  Fair enough, Kreya thought. So do I. She pulled on her climbing harness and then clipped the tether to a metal beam above the entrance hatch. “Get your flight talismans ready.”

  “Sad as I am to admit it, they don’t have enough oomph to fly the two of us and the crawler and our supplies to safety.” She scooted closer to the door as Kreya opened it.

  “Noted.” Wind hit Kreya’s face, and she braced herself. Holding on to the side of the crawler, she stuck her foot out until her toes touched one of the crawler’s legs. Taking a deep breath, she shifted her weight and pushed off the crawler’s body. She clung to the leg.

  Zera was still squawking her objections, but Kreya couldn’t hear her over the wind, which was a plus. She affixed another clip to the leg. Bracing herself between the cliff face and the crawler, she positioned herself so she was standing on two legs at once, with her back against the cliff. Her muscles shrieked in protest against the awkward position, but it was the only way to reach the underside of the crawler.

  Her heart thudded fast and hard, and she was aware of the amount of nothingness beneath her. Don’t think about it, she ordered herself. Focus on the task.

  She studied the bones. One of them, as she’d expected from the lack of motion, was shattered. She could replace that. But the larger problem was the bone that hadn’t failed, the mountain goat femur that was responsible for steadiness . . . and the sole reason they hadn’t fallen yet.

  It had fractures running through it.

  Her heart thumped faster.

  One problem at a time, she told herself. If she let herself imagine everything she knew could go wrong, she’d be too paralyzed to do anything. Right now, she had to fix the bone that controlled motion. Get to the top, and worry about the next catastrophe then.

  “Be ready!” Kreya called to Zera.

  Zera called back, “What’s wrong?”

  Focused on the task, she ignored Zera. Her thigh muscles began to shake with the strain of holding her position, but she stayed steady. First, she dislodged the broken bone. She let it fall, tumbling through empty air, as she swept out the remaining shards. She fit the replacement bone into its slot. She drew a knife from her belt and shaved it down so it fit snugly in position. Quickly, she carved the markings that would allow her to access its power. It was a bone from an old sheep, which wasn’t ideal due to the age, but it should last . . . fifteen minutes? Twenty? Less?

  She checked her work once more, making sure the bone was secure, and then glanced down. Very, very far down. Between the mountains, the valley was drowned in swirling mist. She’d never been down there, even at the height of her adventuring days. There was nothing at the base of the mountains of Vos but death.

  That seemed doubly true from this position.

  She spoke the word to animate the bone, and the crawler shuddered beneath her touch.

  Her muscles screaming at her, Kreya climbed back up inside. She shut the door and stole a second to lean against it, catching her breath. Everything ached, and she knew she’d pay for it later.

  “You did it!” Zera cheered.

  Kreya didn’t answer as the crawler restarted its climb across the cliff face. She scanned their supplies. They’d need the essentials. Her coat, of course. A canteen of fresh water. Knives, for both defense and carving. Quickly, she added the key items to her pack and secured two of the knives to her belt. “Gather what you can carry. If we don’t make it, we’ll need to fly out of here.”

  “You said no flight, remember? Because secrecy.”

  She had said that, but it was better than falling. “I can’t replace the steadiness bone while we’re on the cliff—the crawler will lose its grip if I remove it. If we’re lucky, it’ll last until we’re on flat ground, and I can fix it. If we’re not lucky, we need an escape plan.”

  “Still the same Kreya, always with a plan.”

  “Wanting to avoid dying is not a personality quirk.”

  The crawler lurched across the rock, and Kreya tensed as it faltered. But then it shuddered again and kept going. Zera handed her a flight talisman, and Kreya examined it. The markings had been inlaid with a matte silverlike metal that Kreya didn’t recognize, which probably meant it cost more than a small village. “The activation word is ‘renari.’”

  “How far will these fly us?” Kreya asked.

  Zera hesitated.

  Kreya narrowed her eyes. “I’m not one of your customers. Tell me the truth.”

  “It’s more ‘glide’ than ‘fly.’ And the trajectory will be downward.” Zera mimed their descent with wiggling fingers. “They’re designed for travel between closer-together, less sheer peaks. You know, places where civilized people want to go.”

  Kreya looked out the window at the mist below, too wide a span to cross without lift to keep them airborne. Swirling, the mist looked as if it wanted to swallow them whole. “Can we climb? How many steadiness talismans do you have?”

  “Plenty at home. Not enough here.”

  “That was stupid.”

  “You’re lucky I brought any at all! I’d planned to save you from danger; I wasn’t anticipating a cross-country quest to defile remains.”

  Kreya wasted no more time. Gathering up what she’d need, she secured it all in her pack. Beside her, Zera did the same. After that, it was a matter of waiting. And hoping.

  “Come on,” Kreya whispered to the crawler as it lurched along. “Just a little farther.”

  “Does talking to it help?”

  “It doesn’t hurt.”

  Leaning until her lips were almost pressed against the metal, Zera crooned,
“That’s a good crawler. You can do it. I believe in you!”

  She looked and sounded so ridiculous that Kreya laughed.

  Zera broke off talking to the crawler. “You started it.”

  “True. But I’ve been living like a hermit for the last twenty-five years, with only brief respites. I’m supposed to talk to all sorts of inanimate objects by now. You just look absurd.”

  Spasming, the crawler jerked backward, and Zera shrieked. Her heart pounding, Kreya squeezed the talisman harder. The bone dug into her palm. Please, hold on a little longer, Kreya thought. She could see the end of the cliff in sight: trees and a walkable slope. If they could just reach it, then she could fix—

  She heard the bone crack.

  Such a little sound.

  And then a cascade of pebbles down the rock face as the first leg broke away from the cliff. “Get outside,” Kreya said. “Now. If we’re separated, three sharp whistles.”

  “Like the old days. Yay. You know, I didn’t miss the mortal danger part of knowing you.” Zera shoveled several more items into her pack and then tied it shut. She hoisted her pack onto her back.

  Outside, a louder cascade, as the second leg lost its grip.

  “Go,” Kreya ordered as she pushed Zera toward the door.

  Zera climbed outside. The crawler shook as the weight shifted inside—and the third leg snapped off. Kreya grabbed the wall as the crawler jerked downward. She heard Zera scream.

  “Status!” Kreya barked as she got her balance back. She gingerly inched toward the hatch, trying to avoid any sudden shifts that could dislodge the crawler.

  “Not dead!”

  “Then fly!”

  “Not without you!” Zera shouted. “Get your ass out here!”

  Kreya launched herself out the door as the fourth leg peeled off the cliff. She grabbed Zera’s extended hand as the crawler lost its grip—the other legs snapped off the rock, and the spider began to tumble. Kreya’s hand slipped out of Zera’s.

  Out of instinct, she clutched one of the legs. The crawler somersaulted. She clung to the leg and saw the cliff, sky, mountain peaks, and mist all flash by as she spun. Her stomach lurched into her throat. But she steeled herself and brought the flight talisman to her lips. She held it tight in her hand as the crawler rolled. Not yet . . . If she released at the wrong time, she risked hitting her head on one of the many legs. One minute more . . . Sky, cliff, mist . . .

  Now!

  “Renari!”

  She felt a lightness flood through her, as if the wind were within her, raising her up, and she released the crawler. It tumbled down the cliff below her as she glided above.

  Ahead of her, Zera was already soaring. She circled in the air, lower than Kreya—she’d lost altitude and was losing more. Angling herself downward, Kreya aimed toward her as the crawler was swallowed by the mist.

  She heard it crash, echoing up from the valley. From the area where it hit, she heard cries and shrieks as it scared the birds and animals and, yes, deadly monsters in the region . . . which gave her an idea. A terrible idea, but still an idea.

  “We can travel through the mist!” she called to Zera.

  “Are you crazy?”

  “It will hide our approach to the wall!”

  “Yeah, because we’ll be too dead to approach anything!”

  Must Zera always argue? It wasn’t as if they had many choices. Up and down were their only options, and she knew they didn’t have enough talismans for up. “It’s that or scale the cliff by hand,” Kreya called to her. “Your choice!”

  “I want an option C!”

  “Aim for the crash site!” At least it would be momentarily predator-free. With luck, they’d be able to retrieve more of their supplies. And maybe, just maybe, the crawler would still be functional.

  Certain it was the better of two bad choices, Kreya spread her arms as she glided down toward the murky whiteness. It enveloped her gradually, erasing the mountains and the sky, until she was swaddled in the misty fog. She heard the sounds of birds, the calls of monkeys, and the roar of the river monsters, but all felt muffled and distant.

  And then all of a sudden, the ground was there, racing toward her. Flinging her arms and legs out, she tried to slow, and she crashed into a thick mat of greenery. Branches cracked beneath her, but the leaves cradled her. Air whooshed out of her as she hit.

  Ow, she thought.

  Regaining her breath, she took stock. She hadn’t felt anything snap, thankfully. She’d be bruised, but she wasn’t broken. Sitting up, she looked around and saw murky greenness. She did not see the crashed crawler.

  Damn it, we missed.

  She judged they were south of the crash site. Or else the crawler could have bounced or rolled. They had to find it. Fast. And they had to find each other. And not find any monsters—that would be nice too.

  Within the valley, the trees were thick, their branches weaving together, their trunks wreathed in vines, and the vegetation between them was hip-deep with ferns and bushes. She stood, pursed her lips, and whistled three times.

  She heard an answering three-note whistle back.

  Wading through the ferns, Kreya headed in the direction of the whistle. Ahead, she heard the roaring whoosh of water from the river that ran between the mountains. Zera better not have landed in it.

  Kreya spotted her through the trees: Zera’s coat and hair were vibrant against the relentless green. She was standing motionless, her back toward Kreya, looking at . . .

  Closer, Kreya saw what had caused her friend to freeze.

  The stone fish dominated the river. Easily twice the size of the crawler, it looked and acted as a boulder, shaping the river around it. Betraying its camouflage, its venomous spines poked out of the churning water, and its black glassy eyes were trained on the shore, watching for movement. She’d never seen one in person before and wished she could still say that.

  “Stealth,” Kreya whispered.

  Moving slower, Zera withdrew a talisman from her pocket and whispered to it. She passed one to Kreya. Together, they backed away from the river and the deadly fish monster.

  It shifted, and water sloshed onto the muddy shore.

  Kreya and Zera froze.

  She wondered how good its eyesight was. Did it hunt based on sight? Smell? Luck? Its glassy eyes swept over the thick greenery.

  Instinctively, she closed her eyes, as if that would keep it from seeing her.

  Wind brushed her cheeks, and the stench of fish filled her nostrils. Kreya opened her eyes, and the stone fish had shifted out of the water. On bulbous legs, it prowled the shore only a few yards from where they stood in the greenery.

  Her heart thudded against her rib cage so hard that she felt as if she were rattling. The fish stench invaded her skull, making her head throb, her eyes water, and her vision swim. This close, she could see the viscous fluid that coated its body.

  She felt pressure in her palm—Zera had given her a talisman. Speed, Kreya guessed. With as small a movement as possible, she shook her head. Here, the forest was woven too tightly, with vines, ferns, and underbrush. She couldn’t guarantee those first essential steps, even with the best talisman. The stone fish was too close. All it would take was one brush against its venomous scales.

  “Patience,” Kreya breathed.

  She’d learned to wait over the years. Hated it. Always hated it.

  But she could do it, when she had to, listening to her heart beat, the river gurgle, the birds call out a warning from above. The glass eyes swept over them again, and she saw her and Zera’s reflection, distorted in the curve of its pupils.

  At last, the stone fish slipped back into the water and submerged itself up to its eyeballs.

  Clamping her hand onto Zera’s wrist, Kreya retreated slowly back through the trees until she could no longer see the river or its deadly inhabitant. Only then did she allow herself to take a full breath.

  “You know, a few decades ago,” Zera said, “you would have handled that dif
ferently.”

  “A few decades ago, I got Jentt killed.”

  “Yeah, and now you freeze at danger. Are you sure you’re up for this?”

  Kreya checked her compass. “North. This way.”

  “Not that I’m not having fun. Really, this is fabulous. Love the scenery.”

  They picked their way through the forest, keeping the sounds of the river to their right. Every so often, the underbrush would clear, and they’d make faster progress, but then they’d soon be back to climbing over logs and wading through ferns.

  “Still sure this is a good idea?” Zera asked.

  “Still sure neither of us has a better one.”

  Catching her breath, she scanned the greenery up ahead. As the mist moved between the trunks, Kreya thought she saw a hint of openness. She led the way toward it, and Zera followed, muttering under her breath.

  She spilled out onto a trail. All the greenery had been trampled, the soggy ground churned up, and the nearest branches broken. A shiver of unease crept up her spine.

  Zera strode ahead, walking in large strides. “Much better.”

  “Be ready with a speed talisman.”

  “You want to jog through the valley?”

  Kreya continued to scan the trees. “I want to run from whatever made this trail, once it notices us.” If it hadn’t noticed already. With this much thick foliage, it was possible they were already being hunted, and they wouldn’t know until it was too late.

  Zera displayed her talisman. “Ready.”

  Alert, they continued on. Kreya wasn’t sure what was more draining—the hike itself or the constant state of wariness. She wondered how long they’d be able to maintain this pace, and how long they had until the sun set. She didn’t relish the idea of being in the valley after dark.

  Ahead of her, Zera halted.

  Kreya stopped. She rose onto her toes, trying to see beyond her. She listened, but the sound of the river drowned all other noises.

  Zera continued, and Kreya crept after her, emerging into a clearing. Lying across the mossy rocks was the body of a river lizard. If she’d thought the stone fish was large, this could have eaten that monstrosity for lunch. It was roughly the size of Kreya’s tower, supine, with jaws that could have broken her home in half.