The Skeleton's Knife (The Farwalker Trilogy)

by Joni Sensel

  "Never," whispered Cassalie. They stared while the flames ebbed around the charred lump.

  Returning to her stool, Cassalie ran her hands over her knees, visibly trying to calm herself. "A shark's tooth, you said. I won't blame the shark. How did this thing bring you to us?"

  "It's a long story," Ariel told her. "And not a nice one. But I wanted to see where that knife came from."

  Cassalie's pale eyebrows jumped. "Here?"

  Ariel didn't want to be rude, but she was certain. The urge to walk had left her feet.

  "I'd like to deny it," Cassalie said, "but the cove has harbored its share of both shark's teeth and evil." She shook her head. "Not recently, though. And not in a way so uncanny!"

  Dain asked, "Is the knife cursed?"

  "You might say so," Zeke said. "It belonged to someone named Elbert."

  Dain's eyes widened. "I had an uncle named Elbert."

  "Oops," said Zeke in a small voice. Ariel could see no resemblance except that Elbert had also been blond.

  "Went off long ago, though," Dain added. "Don't hardly remember."

  Cassalie shifted uneasily. "Eight years or so gone. He was a Finder, too, and decided to find somewhere better. There aren't many treasures here to be found, nor much at all for anyone not fond of the sea."

  "Plus Cass wouldn't have him," Dain said. "That's why he left, you ask me. I remember that much."

  "Dain! I'll thank you not to share such things with guests!" Cassalie added more softly, "That's done and gone. As is Elbert from here."

  Ariel decided to stick with the truth. "From the world. Elbert died two years back."

  "Oh." Cassalie studied her. "Not to your sorrow, I see."

  "Nor yours," Scarl observed.

  Cassalie looked into her lap. "It's wicked of me. But no, this news brings me no grief."

  Dain's face, although solemn, held more curiosity than sadness. Unspoken stories hung low in the room, but nobody offered to tell them, or asked.

  Cassalie broke the silence. "What will you do with his weapon?"

  "I was going to throw it into the sea," Ariel told her. "But I wouldn't want blood to attract sharks where you dive."

  Cassalie shivered. "Perhaps Dain can lead you to somewhere I don't."

  "Oh, aye," Dain said, her voice melancholy. "I know places to lose stuff forever."

  "Let's talk of something sweeter, before we spoil the taste of our scallops." The Reaper reached for a fry-stone. "Please tell me more about your abbey. And trees. I mostly know them from driftwood."

  While Cassalie cooked, she plied them with questions until Ariel's throat grew scratchy. Then Ariel and her friends listened as Cassalie told of a time when those who lived here did little but smuggle by boat. The tunnels had helped them whisk away stolen goods and evade pursuit.

  "And sent more than one robbed sailor to his death," Cass added. "Knives other than yours have dripped red, I expect. Dain and I are descended from scoundrels and thieves." She laughed. "So watch us carefully with your things! Though Dain's probably the only one who still knows the tunnels. It's dangerous, and I worry. Our people hid there during the Blind War, they say, but to me they seem stifling and much worse than death."

  "That shelter may be why you're here at all, though," Scarl said.

  "I suppose. I know little of war tales or how others survived. Our last Storian left the world before I came in. Can you tell me more from your travels?"

  He could and did.

  After they ate, Zeke and Dain nodded off at the fire. Ariel curled between them, wondering what evil clung to Elbert's knife. She'd not seen his shape, heard his voice, or met anything in her nightmares but grasping hands, and for that, she was grateful. But something was haunting the knife. Surely the glimmers she knew as the Essence, sparks of the life force itself, would not render blood, flies, or stenches... though she supposed even those had a purpose and place. Perhaps the Essence could be bent astray or had an opposite force.

  Ariel shivered. In becoming a Farwalker, she'd once ventured into a dark, unpleasant void. If sparks of the Essence could appear in the world, perhaps splinters of that Nothing, that unformed-ness, could, too.

  Afraid to ponder it too much near bedtime, Ariel was glad Cassalie kept coaxing stories from Scarl. The low, even rumble of his voice soothed her, fitting well with the murmur of the waves in the cove. Cassalie was more like a tide. She would chatter at high speed for long minutes, barely giving Scarl time to answer her questions. Then, as if catching her breath, she would ebb, only smiling whether Scarl filled the silence or not. Often he chose not to, but that didn't seem to disturb her. In those moments, they all listened to the waves striking outside, the crackling fire, and the sleepers' steady breathing, which harmonized well.

  "It's a treat to have new friends to talk with," Cass murmured. "Dain and I are so worn to each other, we barely speak. And to think of all the villages the three of you see!"

  "Few with a welcome quite like this, though," Scarl said.

  Cass laughed, which seemed to be her response to most everything. "Or quite so much trauma, I hope!" But she smiled at her hands, and Scarl's eyes rested on her without comment. Ariel could feel invisible waves rippling and bouncing between the adults. It was odd, because it didn't make her feel left out, though she was. It made her feel the same way the fire did--warmed, though she was neither the wood nor the flame.

  "Oh!" Cassalie rose to draw aside a curtain and peep at the darkening sky. "The day flew while I wore out your ears, and night's falling. Where will you sleep? Foolish me, here I stuffed you with scallops and questions without giving more important matters a thought!"

  "We'll sleep under the sky," Scarl said. "We do all the time."

  "No, no, I can't let you do that. Often at night, the sea brings in rain, and Dain hasn't mastered the weather so much as she sometimes thinks."

  Half-awake, Dain mumbled a vague protest.

  "The boathouse would work," added Cass. "It's not terribly cozy, but I can give you warm furs. Zeke, though--maybe I should keep him by the fire."

  "Huh?" Zeke awakened at his name. "Where are we going?"

  "To bed," Ariel told him. "In the boathouse. Want to come? Or stay here?"

  "We don't bel-- Oh. Yeah, I'll come with you." Groggy, he rose.

  Her arms loaded with furs, Cassalie led them to a listing stone shack at the top of the slip. Behind its large wooden door, a boat was rotting inside. They arranged musty sails on the floor for a mattress. After Cass bid them good night, Scarl asked Ariel what she'd done with the knife.

  She told him. "It stunk like a dead thing."

  "We'll leave it there, then," he said. "Until daylight, at least. I've never put much truck in superstition, but I'll sleep more soundly when that blade is gone."

  Shivering, Ariel tried not to think of how often she'd slept with it near. The boathouse felt hollow and chill after the hearth, and the walls' crumbling mortar wouldn't stop any flies, but perhaps they'd stay out with the knife. She imagined the blade flying through to stab them, but the chinks were too narrow for that.

  They wrapped in their blankets and drew furs overtop, Ariel snuggling between Scarl and Zeke. Once wakeful, though, Zeke was restless. When Ariel asked if his chest hurt, he said, "I'm all right. I just... I heard the stones of the cove in my sleep. Saying something about going where we don't belong."

  Ariel laughed. "The first thing Dain said was that I didn't belong here. Even the rocks think like smugglers, I guess. But Cassalie's friendly enough."

  "Dain's not so bad, either. I probably was dreaming. Think we'll stay very long?"

  Scarl's voice came through the dark. "We could, a short while. Our nights might be warmer if we wait here a week, or even two, and let spring catch up. I know you were anxious to be off from the abbey, Ariel, but with that done..." Waves slopped outside. "It's your decision, of course."

  She smiled at the rafters and wondered how much of his desire to linger truly centered on weather. Perhaps sh
e could ask Dain to send them off with a spring breeze regardless.

  Then, with a discomfort that kept her awake long after her companions, she wondered exactly what Dain wanted in trade. Clearly the young Windmaster had something in mind, something almost too great to ask. She was biding, that's all. Ariel had occasionally caught the other girl watching her that evening with a curious mix of excitement and dread. And she'd known by Dain's bitten lip and quick glances away that she'd been thinking of the debt--and just how to collect.

  Chapter 12

  By the time Ariel rose the next morning, Cassalie had hung a bright flag on the cliff to signal boats to come into the cove. She'd also laid out a breakfast of hot lichen porridge, and she chattered brightly the whole time they ate. Afterward Ariel asked, "Would anyone mind if we stayed here a week?"

  The Reaper's eyes sparkled. "Mind? Shall I beg you?"

  "You needn't keep feeding us," Scarl assured her. "We have food of our own, and I can always find more. I should be doing that now." He reached for his coat.

  Cassalie stopped him. "Don't go yet. Unless it's just an excuse to get away from my questions. If so, I can hush."

  "No." Scarl's lips twitched. "The pain of your company is... tolerable."

  And indeed, as the Reaper's smile grew flustered and she bustled after more tea, Ariel repeatedly caught Scarl... doing what? He wasn't watching Cassalie. It was more like he was listening to her with his skin--alert to her movement as if about to respond, but without ever tensing a muscle.

  Ariel whispered to Zeke, "Have you noticed how much Scarl likes Cassalie?"

  Zeke frowned. "Don't you like her?"

  She rolled her eyes. "Forget it."

  Before long, Scarl rose. "I've sat idle enough." He turned to Cassalie. "What do you need that I might find for you, in trade for our breakfast?" He ignored her protests. Reminded of Dain's evasions about what she wanted, Ariel wondered if everyone here was so hard to trade with.

  Cassalie, however, soon laughed and gave in. "Aye, then. There is one thing-- no, wait. That's not fair. Let me think of something else."

  "Tell me."

  "Well... it's not finding. It's naught but hard work. There's a seam of brimstone in the cliff. We chip it out and burn it when everything else is too wet."

  "Brimstone?" Zeke asked. "I want to see!"

  Cassalie wrung her hands. "If it's too much to ask, please say so."

  Scarl waved off her concern. "Dain, can you show me?"

  Dain jumped up. "Aye. I've another stone to show you, too, Zeke. It's not far."

  Ariel saw her chance to talk with Cassalie alone. "I'll stay and help with our dishes."

  "Those can wait," their hostess told her. "But I've got sea-grapes to pluck while the tide's out. I'll take help with that."

  They all trooped outside, the brimstone hunters climbing the stones of the cove while Ariel and Cassalie knelt at tidepools below. Ariel shot a quick glance toward her staff, which remained lodged in the creek-fall. She'd deal with it later.

  "That's blister work, prying out brimstone." Cassalie plunged her arm into the tidepool. "I hope your papa won't be sorry he offered."

  "He won't." Unfamiliar with sea-grapes, Ariel watched closely as the Reaper's hand worked. "But we're heart-kin, not blood-kin. My father left the world when I was little."

  "Oh! I guessed that Zeke was unrelated, but-- ah." Cassalie sifted sand through her fingers until all that remained were three green marbles that she plucked from thin seaweed vines. She dropped two in her bowl and popped the other into Ariel's mouth.

  Ariel expected a saltwater blast. Instead, the grape burst with a lemony crunch. Grinning, she, too, thrust her fingers into the sand.

  "Did Dain tell you I owe her a trade?" she said as they worked. "Every time I ask what, though, she only gets this odd look on her face. Do you know what she'd like?"

  Cassalie shook her head. "I can't imagine. Unless... she might hope to find some trace of her family."

  "What happened to them?"

  "It's a sad tale." Cassalie moved to the next tidepool. "They lived on the windward side of the ridge. One night she had a row with her father, who was rather severe. She ran outside to the wind."

  Her eyes gained a faraway gleam. "As a toddler, she'd toss foam off the sea to the breeze, which would spin it for her into patterns. Such talent! She hadn't yet learned how to use it much, though, and when she got upset, the wind roiled, too. A squall blew in that night, and the rain set off mudslides. When Dain finally calmed and returned to her house, it was buried in mud, and help came too late. Her parents and brother were swept out of the world, and she blames herself." Cassalie shook her head. "What she most needs is forgiveness, but you can't trade her that. Perhaps she hopes for some keepsake buried that night."

  Ariel nodded. "If it exists, Scarl can find it. And I'll dig it up."

  Privately Ariel hoped Cassalie was wrong. A failed search would bring Dain only disappointment. Yet success might be worse, because the last thing Ariel wanted to dig up was bones.

  Hammering sounds drifted down from above. Cassalie gazed up the slope to the bent figure there.

  "Scarl's had someone reaped from him, too, hasn't he?" she asked.

  "Yes."

  "It shows." Cass glanced sidelong at Ariel. "Your mother?"

  "No. Someone else."

  "Ah." Sea-grapes rattled into the bowl. Cassalie's hands never stopped, but her neck kept twisting so she could look up.

  Finally Ariel could resist it no longer. "He's interested in you, you know."

  "He is?" Cassalie turned wide eyes on Ariel, fighting a smile. "He says so little about himself. How can you tell?"

  "I know him."

  The shy delight on Cassalie's face dulled. "He has a woman in every village you visit, then."

  Offended, Ariel scowled. "No!"

  Sand splashed and the Reaper faced Ariel squarely. "Tell me true, Ariel."

  "Not even one. Although a few have been interested in him. You're way different, Cassalie."

  "I doubt that," Cass murmured, but her hands dipped into the tidepool again.

  Ariel wanted to say something more, but she wasn't sure if it should be encouragement, advice, or a warning. Instead, she asked, "Would you teach me to dive like you can?"

  Cassalie flashed her a wink. "If it'll keep you here longer, we'll start your lessons today."

  They returned to the house with a full bowl and cold arms. Dain and Zeke returned shortly, the latter gushing about what they'd seen.

  "There's a stone with a hole the wind sings through," he told Ariel. "Dain says the wind's laughing. And the stone likes it, too. They're best friends. You should hear 'em! Oh--I guess you can't. Not like we can." He and Dain shared a look. A jealous twinge caught Ariel off guard.

  "She can hear with her ears, though," Dain offered.

  "Sure," Zeke said quickly. "That's almost as good."

  Ariel managed a smile.

  When Scarl appeared, he brought more than the brimstone. "I remembered a story about brimstone," he said. "So I thought to try finding before I came back." As they all crowded close, he brushed grit from a rock marked with swirls like a seashell.

  Cassalie gasped. "A stone nautilus!" She traced the whorls with her fingertip.

  "From a world before this," Scarl told them. "A sea creature so old that it's turned into stone. In the story I know, they remind us that all things leave the world, but our shapes here may linger to guide those who remain."

  "I'd like to hear that story, Scarl," Cassalie said.

  "Perhaps after Ariel talks with your neighbors," he said. "I just saw a boat being beached on the slip."

  As Ariel ran to the window, Scarl set the fossil on a ledge over the hearth.

  "Oh, you don't mean to leave it?" Cassalie asked Scarl.

  "Please," he replied.

  She bit her lip, clearly struggling to accept the gift.

  "You'd better get used to it," Ariel said with a grin. "I've got farwal
king gifts to give, too." She rushed to get her pack from the boathouse.

  Maybe one of her treasures would appeal to Dain. That would lighten Ariel's heart, as well as her pack. It also might ease disappointment later if their mysterious trade didn't work out as Dain hoped.

  Chapter 13

  Two boats had sailed into the cove. They brought a young family that included two children and a pair of weathered Fishers who looked enough alike to be sisters. Isaiah, his wrinkled wife, and a gaggle of silver-haired widows also tottered from their homes to the slip.

  "A bit shy on young folk and men," Scarl noted.

  "The sea takes all our men, sooner or later, and it's hard to make young folk without them." Cassalie shaded her eyes to check for more incoming boats. "No one else is bound for land, Ariel. Shall I introduce you?"

  "I can." Ariel stepped forward, raising her voice. "Thank you, and well met! I'm Ariel Farwalker, and--"

  "I knew a Farwalker, though he wouldn't admit it," piped Isaiah. "Ol' Jack Healtouch couldn't cure a warm day in spring. Wandered everywhere, though. You 'member Jack, Tilda?"

  Heads nodded. "Oh, aye, I knew Jack."

  "Gone seventy years now!"

  "'Zat right, Isaiah?"

  "Know who else I remember? Oma Storian! You were too young, but--"

  Conversations sprang up, but without Ariel. Not wanting to be rude, she shot a helpless look at Cassalie, who covered her mirth with her hand.

  "Hold on," she whispered. "They'll ease in a moment and recall what got them started."

  That turned out to be true, but Ariel never managed more than a couple of sentences before someone interrupted. While the elders buzzed about what should've been in the Vault, the father of the children approached Ariel.

  "'Preciate your efforts here, Farwalker," he said. "These old coots haven't had such a grand time in years. Unless something in your Vault catches fish, though, you're wasted on us."

  "There probably are things to help Fishers," she told him. "The Storians are still figuring it out."

  He nodded. "You come back in a few years and let my younglings know, then. If it's not inconvenient. We'll make do, either way."