Chapter 12 #2
In the grip of swelling hope, she doesn't stop to ponder why she's been left bound with a means of escape placed so temptingly within her grasp.
She readies herself to heave. Then come footsteps, slow and steady.
Thud. Thud. Thud. Gritting her teeth, Shay strains against the ropes, using her body as leverage.
The table doesn't topple, but it shakes so that the knife bounces and skips.
She rocks herself back and forth in thrashing movements.
Advancing bit by bit, the knife nears the table's edge.
Closer. Closer. Almost there.
The footsteps quicken. Too close. Thud-thud-thud.
The door creaks, and Shay freezes, her forehead slick with sweat.
A lantern enters first. Its brightness practically blinds her to her captor's identity, but the shadows of horns bulge on either side of their head, curving downward. “Are you well, lallati?”
“Deebi!” Shay's relief is only partial. She is not in the bloodsucker's home as she feared. But that does not explain what is going on. “I am tied like a horse hitched to a post. No, I'm not well! But thank you so much for asking.”
The bone-eater sets the lantern, along with a tray of food, onto one of the side tables. He loosens Shay's bonds, babbling nervously as he works at the knots. “I truly apologize about this, but I assure you, there is a good explanation.”
Once her hands are free, Shay scrubs the tears from her face. She's overcome by the unsettling feeling that something has been done to her. She pats herself, searching for clues. At least her satchel, with the hjabat tucked back inside, is still tied around her waist.
“No one hurt you.” Deebi stoops low as he sits carefully on the edge of the pallet. He gives her a narrow glance that seems to ask her for permission to elaborate.
Shay scuttles back. She cowers against the mound of pillows behind her. Her eyes land again on the pocketknife, and she wonders how effective such a paltry tool would be against the monster who restrained her. Or did he free her?
She's confused about which. “What happened?”
Deebi pinches the tip of one horn nervously. “You were sleepwalking,” he tells her, then cocks his head to one side. “If I may ask something, have you ever experienced a brush with death?”
“I don't think so.” Shay rubs her tender wrists, perplexed. “Why?”
“Sometimes, survivors of bloodsucker bites develop a psychic link with their attacker. This is more likely to happen, and the bond tends to be stronger, if the human has had a previous experience with the spiritual realm.”
Shay immediately thinks of Ghita's echo. “Like a midwife? Or maybe her apprentice?”
“Yes, yes.” The bone-eater nods, his weighty horns slicing through the air.
“Midwives are very close to the other world.
Which is generally a good thing, I suppose, but not in this case.
We found you en route to the bloodsucker's home, and after we wrangled you back here, you immediately attempted to leave again. Our only option was tying you down. For your own safety, you see.”
Sickness spreads through Shay's stomach. She believes the bone-eater because she feels the truth of his words. The connection he speaks of quickens inside her like some unnatural conception. Some abomination. “How long does this condition last?”
“It should go away when your wounds heal,” Deebi says, but his tone is less than reassuring. “Until then, whenever you sleep, you will be helpless to resist the urge that calls you to him.”
Shay suddenly, desperately, wishes to be back home. Even if it means facing Ghita's recrimination. Even if it means never seeing Hind again. “And if I leave Ard Al-Ghul?”
“Unfortunately, you can't. The journey through Al-Ghaba Mayita takes well over a full day by foot. It would not be possible for a human to travel such a distance without stopping to rest.”
Shay's shoulders dip. It seems she's even failing at being a proper failure. “At which point, I'd be compelled to walk back here—back to him—in my sleep?”
“Exactly.” The bone-eater looks at her with something like pity, if creatures such as he bear the capacity for such feelings. “But I have some good news. My brothers promised to look for an antidote while on their nightly outing. They set out a while ago and should be back by morning.”
“Wait.” Shay knuckles her temples. Nightly outing is one way to phrase the act of plundering Nezjar's graves, but if the brothers have already left … For the first time since coming to, she notices the moonlight piercing the beams of the thatched roof in bloody needles. “How long was I asleep?”
“You slept through the whole day.” The bone-eater gives her a lipless smile.
Shay finds it oddly endearing, but not enough to soften the blow of realizing she's slept right through any chance of catching the caravan to Kiddah.
Yet it's not the missed career opportunity that disappoints her.
It's knowing she left Ghita with no explanation other than to assume Shay doesn't care.
But she does care. Now, more than ever, she knows how lucky she was that Ghita took her in. How lucky Sami is.
“I see.” She draws a deep breath, focusing on the room around her to stay her tears. The simple wicker furnishings, stone walls, and ample linens are cozy, if sparse, with some plants and candles scattered about.
The food sitting on the tray, however, looks disappointingly unappetizing. There's a mug of dirty water. A bent crust of moldy khobz. Some slices of apple gone brown and mushy. And a slab of meat that looks horribly undercooked, which is to say, it's soaking in a fresh pool of blood.
Apparently, the bone-eaters were unprepared for a human guest. Her thoughts snare on an odd detail. “How are you and your brothers able to make the trip to Nezjar and back in one night, if it is, as you say, well over a full day's journey each way?”
“It is, for humans. Bone-eaters achieve greater speeds because we shape-shift,” Deebi says, as if that should be obvious. In answer to Shay's unspoken question, he adds, “Into hyenas, most of the time.”
Shay supposes that's no stranger than a bloodsucker taking the form of a bird. She has more questions but hesitates to speak them, fearing the answers may well send her running for the forest despite the risk. The bone-eaters don't seem to wish her harm, but then neither did Hind. At first.
“You should eat, lallati.” The bone-eater lifts the tray and holds it toward her.
Shay tries her best to smile pleasantly. Refusing what's offered goes against the etiquette that's been deeply ingrained in her. She picks the safest-looking item, a dried fig, and bites in. Only to discover it's filled with tiny wriggling worms.
Coughing, she drops half the fig back on the plate and grabs the water to wash the other half down, politeness prohibiting her from spitting it out. The silty water burns her throat. She coughs harder.
The bone-eater remains quiet until Shay stops coughing and looks at him, his already-fragmented face split further in worry. “Is the food not to your liking?”
“No, it's fine,” Shay says automatically, about to add that she's not really that hungry. But she's well and truly famished. “Alright, I'm lying. But please don't be upset. It's just … this isn't what humans like to eat.”
“I'm sorry. I …” Deebi inhales and exhales, his chest rising and falling, as if physically working to collect himself. He wrings his mangled hands. “Tell me what kinds of food you like, and I'll get them for you. Just don't tell my brothers I messed up.”
“I won't say a word. I promise.” Shay can't help wanting to reassure him.
If she understands anything, it's the feeling of being a disappointment.
A warmth one might call fondness sparks inside her.
The bone-eater seems kind. “And I'm happy to cook for myself. Well, for all of us, but where would you get the ingredients?”
“There are other humans in Ard Al-Ghul,” the bone-eater whispers, as though imparting a highly guarded secret. “Rebels who live here in hiding.”
Shay has heard about the lists. The ones that publicize the names of those rebels most wanted by Al-Mukhtar.
Those whose capture would reap a sizable reward.
It makes sense that such fugitives would come to Ard Al-Ghul as a last resort.
If Naturalists with nowhere else to go hide themselves among the medina's poor and forsaken in the Bib, why not among the monsters here?
Shay can't help but wonder if she, a failed apprentice, the daughter of an addict, belongs here as much as they do. But no, she hasn't sunk that low. Yes, she made a bad decision—perhaps multiple bad decisions. But she can fix them.
She still has the ring, which she could sell, if only to repay Ghita for the cost of the stolen ticket.
It will take time to earn back the midwife's trust, to find another position.
One perhaps not quite so far. She needs only to take this antidote and convince the bone-eaters to escort her back through the forest.
But does she really want her old life back? To return to taking that wretched moon pepper and enduring constant sickness for the sake of safety?
Shay finds the question hard to answer. Something dark has hatched within her, a feeling that life will never be as simple as before. As sweet as it once was. She may tell herself it's only the bloodsucker venom, but deep down, she fears something irrevocable has been set in motion.
From the moment she put on the ring, she became lost.
Home has never felt so far away.