I'm excited to be showcasing the short story The Bone Knife by Intisar Khanani. I loved Thorn by Intisar, so I have high hopes for The Bone Knife.
Title: The Bone Knife
Author: Intisar Khanani
Genre: YA Fantasy, Short Story
Blurb: Rae knows how to look out for family. Born with a deformed foot, she
feigns indifference to the pity and insults that come her way. Wary of all
things beautiful, Rae instantly distrusts their latest visitor: an appallingly attractive
faerie. Further, his presence imperils the secret her sister guards. But when
the local townspeople show up demanding his blood, Rae must find a way to
protect both her sister’s secret and their guest. Even if that means risking
herself.
Excerpt:
I drop the eggs and
run as fast as my turned foot will take me, barreling through the kitchen and
down the short hall to the front door. I shove the bolt home just in time. On
the other side of the door, a fist hammers against the wood and a chorus of
voices rise up, shouting for my father. I turn back to see Stonemane at the top
of the steps.
“I must close the back door,” I
tell him. “Please fetch my father.” Thankfully, he does not argue but turns
back towards the rooms. I return to the kitchen, barring the back door and
closing up the shutters as well. The rest of the windows on the ground level
remain barred from the night; we will be safe now till Baba can calm the
villagers.
As I reach the hallway again, I
hear Baba and Stonemane descending the stairs.
“If it is me they want, I will
be happy to show them what a Faerie is,” Stonemane says, his voice amused.
“I’ll not have it,” Baba says,
his deep baritone gruff with anger. “No guest of mine will be
threatened—certainly not by my own neighbors!”
As Baba takes the final steps he
spots me. “Rae, my dear, you’re all right?” I nod. He looks back towards the
door, which rattles beneath a hammering fist. “Would
you accompany Lord Stonemane to the business room upstairs?”
I glance at the faerie, astonished.
A lord?
His eyes flash with annoyance.
“I see no need to hide. I am not afraid of these fellows with their sticks.”
“Some of them carry iron,” Baba
points out. The battering on the door has increased, and now I hear voices
coming from further along the wall as a group of men begin to make their way
around, pounding on the shutters. Suppose they break in? We cannot stand about
arguing in the hallway until they do.
“Please, my lord,” I say, taking
a step forward. “If the townspeople see you, they will know we shelter magic
here.” When we should not.
