THE BONE SHIPS : THE DROWNING
Chapter 5: The Bone Witch
The Bone Witch’s hut was larger on the inside than it appeared from the outside.
Valeris stood in the center of the main room, her eyes wide, her heart pounding. The walls were covered in bones—not just leviathan bones, but human bones, arranged in patterns that seemed to shift and move when she looked away. The air was thick with smoke and the smell of salt and something else. Something old.
The Bone Witch sat in a chair made of whale ribs, her pale eyes fixed on Valeris, her staff resting across her knees.
“You’re younger than I expected,” the old woman said.
“You’re older than I expected.”
The Bone Witch smiled.
It was not a kind smile.
“Age is a gift, child. Not a curse.”
“Then why do you look so old?”
The Bone Witch laughed.
It was a dry sound, like leaves rustling.
“Because I have been carrying the weight of the dead for a hundred years. It wears on a person.”
“You can hear them too?”
The Bone Witch nodded.
“I am a listener. Like you. Like your mother. Like your grandmother. All the way back to the first.”
“The first listener?”
“The one who opened the door.”
Valeris stepped closer.
“What door?”
The Bone Witch was silent for a long moment.
She looked at the bones on the walls. At the patterns. At the light.
“A thousand years ago, the first listener stood on the shore of the Drowning Sea. She heard the dead singing. She thought they were beautiful. She thought they were lonely. She thought she could help them.”
“What did she do?”
The Bone Witch looked at her.
“She opened a door. A door between the living and the dead. A door that should have remained closed.”
“What happened?”
The Bone Witch’s pale eyes were wet.
“The dead poured through. They consumed her. They consumed the village. They consumed the land. The Drowning Sea was born from their hunger.”
Valeris’s blood went cold.
“The Drowning King?”
“The Drowning King was the first to come through. The strongest. The hungriest. He has been sleeping beneath the waves for a thousand years, growing in power, waiting for the door to open again.”
“Can it be closed?”
The Bone Witch was silent for a long moment.
“Yes. But the price is high.”
“What price?”
The Bone Witch looked at her.
“A life. A soul. A sacrifice.”
Thorne stepped forward.
“There has to be another way.”
The Bone Witch shook her head.
“The door was opened with blood. It can only be closed with blood.”
“Whose blood?”
The Bone Witch looked at Valeris.
“Hers.”
Valeris’s heart stopped.
“Mine?”
“You are the last listener. The heir to the first. The blood that opened the door flows in your veins.”
“I didn’t open the door.”
“No. But you can close it.”
“How?”
The Bone Witch stood.
She walked to Valeris and took her hands.
Her skin was cold.
“You must go to the place where the door was opened. You must stand on the shore where the first listener stood. You must speak the words that she spoke.”
“What words?”
The Bone Witch was silent for a long moment.
“The words of the dead.”
Valeris pulled her hands away.
“I don’t know the words of the dead.”
“You will. When the time comes.”
“When will that be?”
The Bone Witch looked at the window.
At the black sea.
At the darkness.
“Soon. The Drowned King is waking. The dead are gathering. The door is opening.”
“How much time?”
The Bone Witch was silent for a long moment.
“Days. Weeks. Months. I cannot say.”
Thorne stepped forward.
“We need to leave. Now.”
The Bone Witch nodded.
“Go. Sail to the place where the first listener stood. Close the door. Save the world.”
“And the dead?”
The Bone Witch looked at her.
“What about them?”
“Will they be free?”
The Bone Witch was silent for a long moment.
“The dead are never free. They are always hungry. Always waiting. Always watching.”
“Then what’s the point?”
The Bone Witch smiled.
It was a sad smile, small and tired and full of years.
“The point is to live. To hope. To love. Even when the darkness presses close. Even when the dead whisper your name. Even when the sea wants to drown you.”
They left the island at dusk.
The Sunken Queen sailed into the darkness, toward the place where the first listener had stood, toward the door, toward the end.
Valeris stood at the bow.
The dead were singing.
Come, they whispered. Come and join us. Come and be free. Come and drown.
She did not listen.
She could not.
She had a door to close.