Stone of Tears

He was pleased that he had managed to tell the story without having to delve too deeply into some of the more painful events. He didn’t want to have to revisit some of those hurts. She didn’t ask any questions, but came and put a hand on his shoulder, saying that she was relieved all of them had survived, and won.

Zedd was silent after the telling, at least as much as he wanted to tell, of the tale. He set to stacking the pile of loose bones into the corner where she said they belonged. By the way they were scattered about, the gripper must have sought refuge in them. A sorry mistake.

That people called Adie the bone woman was small wonder; the house had little else in it. Her life seemed devoted to bones. A sorceress dedicated to bones was a troubling concept. He saw little evidence of potions, powders, or the usual type of charms, any of the typical things he knew to expect from a woman of her talents. He knew what she was probing into, just not why.

Sorceresses usually confined their concerns to things living. She was a searcher into things dark and dangerous. Things dead. Unfortunately, that was what he was doing, too. If you wanted to know about fire, you had to study it, he guessed. Of course, it was a good way to get burned. He knew he didn’t like the analogy the moment it popped into his head.

He looked up from the bone pile as he placed the last of them. “If you don’t want grippers in your house, Adie, you should keep your door closed.”

His perfectly apt, scolding frown was wasted, as she didn’t turn from her task of stacking the firewood back in its bin at the side of the hearth. The door be closed. And bolted,” she said in her dry rasp, in a tone seemingly meant to wither his unseen scowl. This be the third time.”

Picking up a bone that had been hiding behind a stick of firewood, she straightened and carried it to him. “Before, the grippers never came near my house.” Her voice lowered as if in a threat to unseen ears. “I saw to that.” She handed over the thick, white rib bone, peering down at him as he squatted on the floor next to the bone pile. “Now, since winter, they come near. The bones no longer seem to keep them away. The reason be a mystery to me.”

Adie had lived in this pass a long time. No one knew as well as she its dangers, its quirks, its vagaries. None knew better than she what it took to be safe here, to live on the cusp between the world of the living and the world of the dead, at the edge of the underworld. Of course, the boundary was gone now. It should be safe here now.

He wondered what else was going on that she wasn’t telling him; sorceresses never told all they knew. What was she doing still living here with strange, and dangerous, things happening? Stubborn women, sorceresses, the lot of them.

Adie limped slightly as she walked across the room lit only by the fire. “Light the lamp?”

Following behind, Zedd swept a hand in the direction of the table. The lamp lit itself, adding a soft glow to that of the fire in the large hearth made of smooth river stones, and helped illuminate the dark walls of the room. Every wall held white bones. Shelves lined one wall, and were stuffed to overflowing with the skulls of dangerous beasts. Many of the bones had been made into ceremonial objects, some had been made into necklaces, decorated with feathers and beads, and some had been inscribed with ancient symbols. Some had spells drawn on the wall around them. It was the oddest collection he had ever seen.

Zedd pointed a bony finger down at her foot. “Why are you limping?”

Adie gave him a sidelong glance as she stopped and lifted a spoon from a hook set into the mortar at the side of the fireplace. The new foot you grew me be too short.”

Zedd stood with one hand on a knobby hip, and the stick-like fingers of the other holding his smooth chin as he looked down at her foot. He hadn’t noticed it wasn’t long enough when he had grown it back; he had needed to leave soon after it was done. “Maybe I could grow the ankle a little longer,” he wondered aloud. He took his hand from his chin and flourished it in the air. “Make them even.”

Adie glared over her shoulder as she stirred the stew. “No, thank you.”

Zedd arched an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t you appreciate having them both even?”

“I appreciate you growing my foot back for me. Life be easier with two of them. I did not realize how much I hated that crutch. But the foot be fine the way it is.” She lifted the long-handled spoon to her lips, blowing on the hot stew.

“It would be easier if they were even.”

“I said no.” She tasted the stew.

“Bags, woman, why not?”