Better as Bones

murderer - II

Bastet

Quarry keeps me moving through the crowd. Through the days.

"Bastet, eat," He chides.

"Bastet, remember: deep breaths," He says.

"Bastet, it will be okay, just like Avery said." And then I watch him, when he thinks I'm asleep, indulge in the only thing keeping him alive. I hold my breath as much as I can against the smoke, clutching my body to stop myself from shaking. Because I can't tell him no. He saved me. He's my best friend. My only friend now.

It reminds me too much of Kyson. And I fucking hate my life. And I want to go home.

So I push myself up in the morning, my palms biting into the broken ground. My eyes are heavy as I gaze at Quarry. He stays curled up in a ball. I stand on trembling legs as I press forward. Fall and catch. Fall and catch. I walk on.

The road out from our alcove spans hardly a tree. Two people stand in the carved base of a shop, murmuring. My fingers dig into the side of the building I cling onto. Sunlight seeps onto the ground, the rising sun spilling over the leaves.

One of the few in the shop glances at me, their beetle-wing eyes lingering a moment too long. I shift, lifting my head to their gaze. Their eyes widen before they turn away. The hush of their voice creeps around their ducked head.

I stumble to the shop. The two people look up briefly. Their eyes widen before hurrying themselves with chores. I blink around the tiny food market. My stomach lurches as I turn. I haven't eaten in days, I don't think. I can't really recall how long I've been in that alcove with Quarry, just trying to survive.

My eyes follow a woman as she enters the shop. Her long brown hair is tied up, her blue eyes studying produce.

"Morning Muse," She says, picking up a gourd. The person with the beetle-wing eyes looks up. I hurry myself with looking at a table of fruit. My fingers trace along the rough woven baskets as I listen. Somehow I need to get just a little produce away from their sight for Quarry and I.

"Good morning Omi," They say. Omi smiles as she turns to purchase her goods. Two squashes and a melon. What an odd combination.

"Might want to close shop, Muse," Omi says, her foot tapping on the ground. "Maylea's in mourn." I look up, my chest burning. My hand hovers over a pear. Muse clicks their tongue.

"I would but we're losing sales. Need to stay open even if the Queen died," They say, handing Omi back her produce.

"What?" Heads turn towards me. Was that my voice? Muse presses their lips together.

"Queen Roux died last night," Muse murmurs, eyebrows drawn together. "It hasn't been disclosed yet. I feel terrible for her daughter."

How many days have passed? Roux's...dead. The Queen is dead. I...hurt her. I was the one who laid my hands on her arms.

I choke. Omi blinks, her arms thrown out to me. I gag, my hands gripping my chest.

"Sir?" Omi questions, drawing nearer. I gasp in air.

"She doesn't have a daughter," I choke. Muse glares at me. I blink at them. "Roux's kid isn't a girl." Muse draws up their lips. I stare back. Flames lap at my lungs. They lap at my lungs and throat.

I push away from Omi, stumbling outside the shop. I press my head into the rough exterior. It pricks my head. Pain seeps through, dotting my vision black.

"Shit," I hiss, pressing my head harder. "I'm sorry." My cheeks stain wet as my vision blurs. I choke a sob, my throat burning dry. "I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry, please, shit, I'm sorry."

My fingernails bite into my cheeks. My throat burns. I swipe my nose, snot and tears pulling away.

"Shit I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to." I didn't mean to kill Roux.