“Who’s out there?”
The shadow of the girl with too many scars for them to be shown moved quickly behind a tree, as not to be noticed – hadn’t it been enough – by the other girl, not scared at the thought of being in the daylight, easy to see and recognize.
The shadow of the girl with a nightmare a day had noticed her already, as she hunted for food. The other girl was quick with her tongue when it came to send away a client, and careful, too, whenever the client grew angry or violent. The other girl had long fingers to get her payment and thin lips to say “thank you”.
“Well, whoever you are…” the shadow of the girl tilted her head just enough as to see the other girl move beyond the tree. “Whoever you are, if you need anything from the shop, you better move. We’re closing soon.”
Had the shadow really been a shadow and no more, she wouldn’t have needed shelter nor food nor water. But the shadow lived inside a body, and it needed all those things, and the warmth only given by another person’s hands.
The shadow of the girl waited, as if to be sure the other girl had only spoken out of duty – or suspicion, maybe – and not certainty of her presence. The moment she had decided of leaving what could have been her home, the shadow had decided she wouldn’t settle, not for a while. She wouldn’t stop, not for a long time, as it meant giving other shadows the time to reach and trap her mind. She couldn’t allow the shadows of the people she had killed near. She just couldn’t.
The other girl waited, too, her eyes scanning the forest. There was a reason if she lived there, away from any kru, away from Polis and the politics of any Heda. There was a reason if she needed to know who was looking at her from away, who was spending more and more time around her shop. There was a reason she feared that one nameless person more than any animal wandering during the night.
“I’d like to get some sleep, so please, don’t waste my time one minute more.” she spoke, tightening the grip of her fingers around the blanket she had on. Winter was moving fast, caressing the first trees with its ice kisses. At that point, curiosity and fear gambled and moved the girl’s actions. She feared that person spying on her, but she also wanted to know who that was. She wanted to know whether she had to put on defenses, or could allow that shadow in. “There’s fire inside.” she said. And although fire was supposed to keep shadows away, she made that one shiver out of need.
The shadow was cold, for it was not only a shadow. The idea of fire didn’t scare it but reminded it of touches it no longer could get from neither friends nor lovers. So, the shadow moved away from the trees as soon as the other girl went back in, more like an animal wanting to befriend its feeding hand than the human being it was supposed to be.
The shadow had already seen that place, although only from the outside. The shadow knew just how many steps were needed in order to stop inches away from the door, knock and wait for the other girl or her father to open and ask what was needed. It knew there was a window, half broken, and it knew the other girl sometimes stood there, daydreaming. And it knew she hadn’t lied, speaking of fire and warmth, for its nose felt the calming smell of meat every night, and woke up with ash tickling its nostrils.
Before it could reason, before it could think about it twice, the shadow was standing by the door, knuckles against a different kind of wood from the one it was using as support during those always colder nights. And in the same moment the other girl opened the door, slowly, cautiously, the shadow was not a shadow anymore, for it really had never been.
“I was told it might have been you.” the other girl spoke almost without parting her chapped lips, fingers playing with the wood of the door, fighting with the urge to close it back and keep shadows and demons away. For the girl she had, standing in front of her shop’s door, was apparently a mix of both.
The shadow girl tilted her head, once more, as she had to look at the other girl from behind the tree. “Me, who?”
“Wanheda.” the moment her lips spoke the name she had been quickly taught to fear, the other girl noticed just how weird and different from the one it had been used to an entire life that name must have sounded. “Klark kom Skaikru, the Commander of Death.”
“Now, that’s horrible pronunciation and an even worse nickname.” the shadow girl spat the words out as they burned the tip of her tongue. “Can I come in? I swear I have no lever with me. I’m harmless.”
Despite not knowing what the killer she’d heard of meant by “lever” – how could she know, after all? She hadn’t been there. She had only heard incomplete stories, like most. There was only a person in the world who knew about a darkness deeper than the shadow who had entered the shop. – the other girl still let her in, not without being quick in hiding a knife under the belt.
She couldn’t recall the last time she had been inside a room without fearing it being the place of her last breaths. In Mount Weather, the place where she had last thought she could be safe, she had only found death for her people, damnation for herself. “It’s Clarke, anyway. A bit softer than how you said it.”
“Clarke, then. I think I can manage it. My name is Niylah.” the other girl gave a quick nod, moving behind what looked, to Clarke, like a counter. “And what do you need, Clarke? Is there a reason why you have been straying around here for days?”
“I was looking for some food. And something warmer to wear, but I currently have nothing to trade.” Clarke sat on an old chair, her muscles tense as she felt it creak under her weight. She got up immediately, not quite at ease, as if expecting the chair to fall to pieces. “Uhm…”
“It’s always like that, don’t worry. The furniture’s a bit old, but you can sit anywhere you please. Should anything break, it’ll only mean more firewood.” the moment Niylah smiled, Clarke found herself mirroring the gesture. She hadn’t had any form of human contact for what seemed to be a lifetime, and Niylah seemed easy to be around to.
Despite still being cautious about it, Clarke sat back. And seeing on a chair, in a warm place, not having to hide from any kind of beast, made her feel more at home than she had for a long, long time. After all, not even the Ark had ever really felt like it was her place. “An optimistic way of seeing things.”
“Yeah, I guess you could say so.” Niylah handed Clarke a plate full of warm meat, almost ashen in the color, but better than anything the shadow girl had managed to eat in the wood. Hunting with a fire gun meant putting a target on her own back, and the same reasoning kept her – most of the time – from lighting a fire. “So, all you need is food and something to wear? I think we’ll be able to arrange something.”
“Thank…” before she could finish, a sneeze interrupted her. Clarke immediately brought her hands to cover her mouth and nose, as, unexpectedly, Niylah burst into laughter.
“Maybe something warm to drink, too, and shelter for the night.” she said, as soon as she managed to stop her amused hiccups, and as Clarke’s face turned red from the embarrassment and she lowered her stance on the plate full of untouched her food. She was hungry, indeed, but knew she couldn’t repay Niylah for her kindness in any way. The other girl got down on her heels and looked up at Clarke. “Listen, I don’t know you, and from all I’ve heard, you’re not quite the best company to have. But you’re hungry and as harmless as a chick, so eat, and then follow me to the bedroom. We’ll find something for you to wear, and you can stay for the night.”