Decades into her reign, the rains that would nourish the syrup trees had stopped and the desert dried. What plants there were grew brittle and died, leaving nothing to trade and nothing to bring back. The rich syrup thickened and hardened in the trees and would only come out after so much coaxing, where it hardly seemed worth the trouble.
The Coals began to eat the tough syrup, as it was one of the only items at the market anymore, and even then, had to give up an entire coin for it. The ones who owned the orchard tried to make it more palatable by dipping it in water, but it had little effect. The dehydrated syrup sunk to the bottom of the bowl and sat, stubborn as ever.
Still, the market sold out of those hard, sugary pieces every time. The Coals put them in their mouths to dissolve, but aside from the sweet flavor, they remained obstinate as stones.
The slender bodies of the people grew even more slender. Their beautiful skin became ashen and bones protruded beneath it, until they resembled elegant skeletons, collapsing in the streets like corpses dropped from the back of a cart.
Through all of this, they prayed to Black Diamond. Unable to work and unable to eat, they bowed in droves to her statue, lined up in circles around every angle of it, to offer wilted flowers and I-owe-you notes they attached to her arms with brittle string.
Some had come to pray outside her door as well, treating it as the entrance to a shrine. Each morning, Black Diamond would come outside, before Pearl or anyone else had woken and found at least one Coal there, sometimes unconscious with a wreath of old pink flowers to offer. The points of their spines poked out under their skin, and no matter how unconscious they seemed, they would jolt awake each time the door opened. They left their offerings as they ran like timid stray cats on rickety legs, tripping in the sand at least once.
Some didn't abscond, however. They would bow instead, quivering, ready to be smote by their goddess' shadowy powers. Out of desperation they begged, "My Lustrous Diamond—" Choking, they would offer her flowers, "I'm sorry for whoever wronged you. I'm sorry for my own sins against you, but can you please make the syrup come back? We'll do anything."
She would try to answer, but that was when they would normally run. Already nervous, they would panic before her spell could touch them. Some stayed to listen, but didn't seem to believe it when she said she had nothing to do with the drought. They would nod and eventually go away, shaking, sometimes crying, because they failed to convince her they were worthy of saving.
Black Diamond sold all the furniture in her house. She gave them to the merchants to trade for food, which they brought back and divided amongst the town. She surrendered every piece in her home, every chair and table and gold-plated picture frame. Her makeup ran out, and she traded all her vases; she broke down her bed and sold her silks, until she and Pearl wore cotton and slept on a cushion on the floor. Their bones, too, protruded and poked one another as they tried to sleep.
Even then, Black Diamond lay awake most nights. If there was food, she fed Pearl before herself, and her people still blamed her. With every healing herb spent and the town coffers empty, citizens began dying in the streets. On any given day, new bodies would collapse in the heat, thin and hollow like dry sticks in the sand. Overnight, they would disappear. Black wouldn't order their disposal, but they would vanish anyway, and the next day more would drop.
When the first body had fallen dead in the streets, the Coals had called Black Diamond. She was still breathing as she hit the ground, after all, but when Black arrived, the Coal had already starved fully to death. She placed her hands upon her and didn't find any pain to cure, or any illness. Where before, Black might have been able to feel the force of her blood as it flowed throughout her body, or her steady heart beat, or the rhythm of her breath, every part of her was still and hard as her gem.
No matter what her people believed her capable of, Black Diamond couldn't inspire life from stone. For them, for the dead Coal, she tried for hours, but her withered and skeletal body never moved from the dirt. It never claimed its lively color back. Those watching kept ready to cheer, but that victorious moment never came, and Black Diamond and Pearl walked home in tears.
It became harder to tell if those bowing in the sand around their Diamond's statue had come to pray or if they had died. Perhaps some had died praying, and they too, would disappear.
From her empty palace, Black Diamond cried. Pearl would brush her hair with a wooden comb (they had sold the ivory one) while she emptied herself of tears, until dry sobs were all she could produce. Pearl would embrace her, and Black would squeeze her inside long, lanky arms. For moments, they would remain that way, two skeletons as still as the bodies in the street.
One day, fat, greedy clouds cluttered the sky but refused to rain. From the ground, they appeared plump and swollen, filled with furtive darkness that had everyone praying, but few drops actually fell. Black Diamond and Pearl clapped their hands together too, but not three minutes in, someone knocked on the door.
In their empty bedroom with boney knees stabbing the thin cushion, both straightened their backs.
"Pearl, I'll get the door."
"Are you sure, My Lady?"
"Yes, you stay here."
Black's body popped and creaked like old furniture when she stood, as well as each time she took a step downstairs. Her feet patted across the empty floor, where even the wood had been stripped and sold. With hesitation, Black opened the door and found the elder, already pursing her lips and squeezing her hands together.
Upon her Diamond answering, she bowed low upon legs well fatter than average. Her body appeared thinner than normal, but her cheek bones didn't protrude enough; her ribs weren't visible enough, nor her elbows sharp enough.
Black leaned against the door frame. "Greetings, Elder."
"My Diamond—" She didn't stop groveling, quivering from feelings outside of hunger. "I don't know what's going on, but…" Her throat produced a dry gulp. "Is there any way you can put a stop to this?" Each wrist of her five golden bangles chimed as she shook. "I thought this happened because they angered you somehow—and it was a good punishment, but my funds are draining—"
"Stop!" Black stirred and nearly fell, standing upright but holding tight to the frame. "I'm not responsible for this! I can't believe you of all gems would believe such a thing!" Her head swam and the world spun.
The elder bowed and a cruel wind rustled her jewelry before she spoke again. "I've never seen a drought this bad, My Diamond." Black heard a gulp before she bowed even lower. "I know that all of us are truly responsible, and I'm sorry if I myself have ever disrespected you, but please find it in your heart to have mercy upon us-"
"Get out of my sight. Don't come back here unless you want to discuss a solution."
Nearly stumbling, she slammed the door to weeping and went back upstairs to weep herself.
Over the next few days, the clouds produced a few droplets of rain, but nothing substantial. From her window, Black Diamond watched her people put a hand up when they sky dropped a bit of water, but it never spilled over. On the third humid and overcast day, Black stepped outside with Pearl at her side, and they too, held their hands out for the stingy rain to barely touch them.
With the harsh blanket of clouds, the hot day grew even hotter, and Black and Pearl sat upon the porch with their naked feet in the sand. Both leaned in some way. Black had hunched forward and Pearl collapsed onto one of beams of the house. Closing her eyes, Pearl began to breathe slowly and stood in the doorway between consciousness and unconsciousness. Every so often, her crusty lashes would flutter open, her attention would latch onto her Diamond, and her lids would press closed in the haze of the heat.
After several minutes Black turned to her and brushed her hair with a few fingers, studying her features.
Though her Diamond had kept her better fed than most of the villagers, her cheekbones still protruded, as well as her collarbones. The newer and more drastic angles of her face drew up dramatic shadows, darkening her eye sockets and drawing signs of age around her mouth and neck, where there should have been none. Even beneath her yellow cotton dress, her knees appeared sharp and knobby.
"Pearl," Black Diamond's hands swept through her hair again. "Should we go back inside?"
She hardly responded. The slow breathing of her pseudo sleep went on, and though her eyes opened briefly, they shut again as quickly. Her body shifted, but didn't wake, even when her Diamond placed her arms around her and lifted her from the porch.
Like a ragdoll, Pearl settled into the cradle made for her. Her limbs dangled and she didn't wake as Black Diamond brought her back upstairs, even with the floorboards creaking and her carrier shifting. Only when a few more droplets landed onto her face did she speak.
"Is it finally raining, My Diamond?"
The downpour came on more strongly then, as they moved into the barren upstairs, where only one room contained some evidence of past wealth—the bathroom, whose enormous tub still stood in the center.
"Please don't cry, My Lady." Pearl spoke with little energy and Black began running the water.
"I have to cool you down. You've become so warm."
"You must be warm too, My Diamond. I can feel it."
Black set Pearl onto the floor and stripped away her cotton and dipped her hand into the tub. The water was hot from being outside and underground, but cooler than the air around them, thick enough to swim through. Once only about a forth full, Black set Pearl into it, slowly. That was all the water she could pull from the faucette.
"Are we in the ocean, My Diamond?"
"No, Pearl," she took some soap to rid her servant of the sweat, and started at her collarbones. "We're only in the bath."
"But…" Pearl seemed to sleep again in the short waves of the water and the cleansing of her Lady's hands, which made their way to her stomach before she finally continued, "I'm supposed to wash your hair."
"No, Pearl," Black continued on to her legs, lifting each one carefully and lathering it in soap.
Outside began to darken as the air grew somehow thicker with both teasing electricity and palpable frustration. Somewhere in the distance, Black could nearly hear a miserable prayer of a chorus of voices, and by its tempo, she washed Pearl's hair and rid the last of her sweat.
Instead of pulling her straight from the shallow, soapy pool, however, Black held her little hand as the sky grew dark. Beneath the pall of apathetic rain clouds, she whispered, "Pearl."
Even then, the sleepy servant hardly responded.
"I think it's time we go."
"Go?" Drowsily, Pearl opened her eyes.
"There's nothing more I can do here."
Where Black Diamond would have cried was nothing more than dry heaving. Her ducts were as dry as her statue's outside, still littered with dead flowers and illegible wishes. Even so, she went through the symptoms of weeping, and Pearl managed to hold her hand just a little tighter.
"I'll follow you anywhere, My Diamond."
"Thank you." She kissed Pearl's forehead and both of her cheeks. High from the heat and dizzy from emotion, Black pulled her from the tub and wrapped Pearl in the same oversized towel she would have used herself.
Carrying Pearl to the bedroom, along with her outfit, Black packed a small sack of things upon arriving. Using nothing more than the bath towel folded into a makeshift bag, she collected a few of their plain cotton outfits, the comb, and several empty glass bottles. Then she dressed Pearl and waited, as any light left passed away and the night became just as dark as the heart of her gem and the roots of her hair.
She wrote a note and carried her bag and her Pearl to the front door, quietly stepping away from her empty palace.
In the heavy night, Black Diamond found her statue—at that point a healthier, happier version of herself—and draped her note around its neck. With Pearl over one shoulder and their meager sack in the other, she exited her village, looking back every few seconds, even in the severe darkness.
When her people woke the next morning, they would find a sign around their goddess's neck that said, 'Forget me' in large letters, and would be just as alone.