‘What if you knew every single thing about your inventions before you created them?’ Abb asked. ‘Every spring, gear, material, proportion, potion, and secret. If you knew—’
‘I think life would be a whole lot easier that way,’ I said, again rolling the Shiver his way.
He caught the Cold, lifting it up and staring into its centre. ‘But a lot emptier.’
‘But I could—’
‘Micah,’ Abb said, cutting me off.
‘You mean Meshua?’ I asked playfully.
Abb shrugged. ‘That’s up to you. Now what I was going to say is this. If you knew everything that went into your inventions beforehand, they wouldn’t work properly. You’d still be missing the most important piece.’
‘And what piece is that?’ I asked.
He kissed the Shiver and tossed it back into the sky. ‘Wonder.’
A whisper from above.
‘Spout.’
I woke, sitting up with chains rattling over my stomach. Harsh morning light spilled between the slats in the cart’s roof, searing my eyes and making me wince. I gave a muted cry, but didn’t wake the other Jadan prisoners, their bodies sagging from the intense heat. The savage cart we were being transported in trapped more Sun between its walls than even my barracks, and I moved my face as far away from the light as possible.
‘What’s happening?’ My hands grasped beside me in desperation, quick to make sure the Coldmaker was still there. The machine was tucked safely in its bag, and the profound relief made my lips broaden, not stopping until a small blister broke on my upper lip. ‘Are the Hookme—’
‘It’s morning,’ Shilah said softly, moving the chains off my stomach to my thighs. ‘Relax.’
‘It is,’ I said, closing my eyes, angling out of a spear of Sun that was burning into my neck. The air inside the caravan cart was almost too stifling and thick, and every breath I took had the sour aftertaste of fear. ‘How long was I out?’
‘A while. And you’ve been wasting lots of fluid.’ She smiled, pointing to the wet spot on her shoulder where my drool had pooled. I was surprised I’d had any moisture inside me at all after all this suffocating heat. Shilah spoke in a joking tone, but her expression didn’t seem as frivolous. ‘Meshua.’
‘Stop it,’ I whispered, giving her a nudge. ‘Like we said, if it’s true, it’s both of us, not just me.’
She picked at the chain rope draped across her stomach. ‘Let’s hope.’
We weren’t locked in like the rest of the Jadans in the cart, with the links of chain threaded through the manacles around their wrists, because Split had only pretended to shackle us down when setting us in the back of the cart. I’d never ridden in a slave transport before, and the accommodations were just as bad as I always imagined. The boilweed mounds we were lying against were decrepit, stale, and full of dead scarab carapaces. The critters preferred heat but hated light, so I assumed this cart was crawling with them. The walls angled inwards at the top, intensifying the enclosed feeling, and the wooden floor was lined with old yellow stains. A small, fresh puddle of wetness sloshed back and forth with the movement of the cart, the origin not clear, but easily excused. There was only one bucket in the corner for us to pass amongst ourselves, and it was nearly full.
The place was a rolling nightmare, and even after a few moments of being awake I was itching to be outside its walls. The box stank of sweat and heat, and it only made my stomach sink deeper. At the moment I didn’t care about the Sun or the Hookmen outside, I just wanted to be free.
Dunes had led us to the caravan’s stopping point last night, before disappearing into the shadows. He took with him only his blade and a few slices from each of our clothing. Cam and the Pedlar had gone up to the caravan tents and offered the guides the promise of big Cold for supplies and safe passage to the City of David’s Fall. Split had lied and said the wheel of his cart had broken and that’s why we were all stuck, and the guides, not in any position to turn down such a lucrative opportunity, agreed to take our group on. So long as the slaves rode in the slave cart with the runaways.
Cam had protested until his face had turned as blue as his eyes, but I told him it was okay, and had passed out pretty much as soon as my backside touched the mound of old boilweed. I hadn’t even had the energy to take in the state of our Jadan companions. I’d been pushed far past my normal limits. The story behind my name had been too much for my waking mind to process.
I wasn’t feeling particularly refreshed, but I at least had some distance from all the blows to my sanity.
A real-life Coldmaker.
Abb.
Leroi.
An Ice bridge.
M-i-cah.
Me-shu-a.
I sniffed at my arms, winging away from the pungent smell of Gales breath that Dunes had poured over us. He’d told us that the potion originated from a plant grown at the Southern Cry Temple, and it apparently confused the hounds’ sense of smell. It left them placid and disorientated. The Vicaress always kept a few vials on her. Dunes said it was rarely used, just in case her pets got rowdy while she was ‘disciplining’ them.
I blinked away the sleep.
Four young girls were in the caravan cart with us, all of them stunning.
Even under the gloss of sweat and filth their beauty was like a beacon. Curvier than most of the Jadan girls I knew, they had smooth, unmarred skin the colour of milky chocolate, which must have been tended by Cold baths and expensive lotions. Their eyes were the shape of full almonds, even more perfect than Shilah’s. There were even traces of beauty powders on their lashes and lips, the kind that was rarely used on Jadans.
Two of them could have been sisters, their faces remarkably similar, although one of them had freckles. All four were Domestics for sure, each wearing tattered beige sunsilk. Each was likely some High Noble’s favourite Domestic.
I didn’t need the girls to wake up and look me in the eyes to understand why they’d become runaways.
Shilah kept her voice to a whisper and gave me an amused look, putting a hand on my ankle. She quickly found the raised skin where the rope had constricted the moment her Abb had sealed the Ice raft to shore. ‘Sorry my brilliance can be so painful at times.’
I smiled, my hand still not straying from the inside of the Coldmaker bag. I had the inexplicable need to touch the machine, to keep myself anchored. ‘You really did save us. I can’t believe that actually worked.’
‘Well, it was you who had the idea for an Ice boat in the first place.’ She shrugged, tenderly rubbing the bruised spot above the ankle bone.
‘“Ice boat”, huh?’ I asked, remembering all the times she teased me for being so literal with my tinkering. ‘Couldn’t think of a better name?’
Shilah kept gently rubbing my ankle. ‘I was just using a term I thought you’d understand. You look quite out of it, and I didn’t want to confuse you further.’
Her hand on my skin felt amazing, and I didn’t want her to stop. ‘So what’s it really called then?’
She twitched her lips back and forth, giving me a serious look. ‘Abb-boat.’
I had to work very hard to hold in my chuckle. ‘Sounds like something Cam would come up with.’
‘I know.’ She winked. ‘All part of why we make a good team.’
‘So you’re okay with Cam being part of the team?’ I asked carefully. ‘I thought you were mad at him.’
Shilah gave a cool shrug. ‘He saved us too, from the hounds. And he really does seem to care.’
The cart jolted, but the Domestics didn’t wake. I looked through the cracks in the front wall and could just barely make out the massive Jadan bodies pulling our mobile prison. It left me wondering how long we’d been travelling and how far we’d gone since I’d passed out.
‘So what do you make of Dunes as part of our team?’ I asked.
One of the lookalike sisters twitched at the mention of the Hookman’s name, but she kept her eyes shut. The harsh Sunlight beamed through the roof
, tangling in her long lashes and highlighting the dark freckles along her face. Jadankind didn’t usually have such features, but I knew some High Nobles forced their personal Domestics to get the spots tattooed on their cheeks.
‘He’s Jadan,’ Shilah said without conviction, not meeting my eyes.
‘He’ll be good to have on our side,’ I said, tracing the bronze Opened Eye.
She looked across my shoulder, following my hand into the canvas bag. ‘Aren’t you worried about lizards?’
I slid my palm out of the bag with a sheepish smile. ‘I doubt a Sobek would choose to live here.’
Shilah surveyed the corners of the cart. The angles of her face were always more defined when she was poised in thought, and I wished I had the patience to watch her ponder for hours on end. As it was, everything inside me was too frantic to remain motionless, and the chains on my thighs rustled audibly as I readjusted my legs.
‘We need to find you some food soon,’ I said. ‘You’re looking thin.’
‘So are you. I’ll grow us a whole feast when we make it to paradise.’ She leaned closer to my ear, the heat of her breath causing a shiver to run up my back. Lowering her voice, she asked: ‘Where do you think these girls were running?’
‘Anywhere,’ the closest runaway said, opening one eye and then the other. She sat up as straight as her chains allowed. ‘Paphos. Belisk. Marlea. Anywhere with a Drifthouse that might take in strays.’
I had to hold onto my breath. Perhaps it was the angle the Sun was striking her face, or the fact that I was so far out of my element, but she was perhaps the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen. Her large eyes were a smoky brown and her thin eyebrows were angled to give her a permanently inquisitive look. Her hair was puffy, like yarn, black as a ravenbeetle, and held together in manageable bundles by copper twine. But the most striking feature of her face was her pouting lips, the bottom one so plump she might have been smuggling Wisps underneath it.
One of the sisters sat up next, and from the shrewdness of her freckled face I could tell she’d clearly been awake for some time. ‘Yah brainless slab ah brick, Leah! Why’d juh tell them that. They could be spying fur Ka’in.’
The yarn-haired beauty called Leah shrugged. Her fingers twitched and curled as she spoke, almost as if she were having small spasms in her hands. ‘We’re on our way back anyway. It’s not going to change anything.’
The sister rattled the chains on her arms. ‘May-bee you. Can’t hold the two of us forevah. We gunn get out.’
I cocked my head, having never heard such an accent. The cadence was fast, and from time to time a random letter got an extra barb. It reminded me of the Singe, swift and stinging.
‘Where are you from, if you don’t mind my asking?’ I said.
Now the other sister finally sat straight up, reaching over and holding up a palm. ‘Juss cause you lucked in here with us dun’t mean we got to tell yah nothing.’
Shilah folded her arms across her chest. ‘No reason to be rude. We’re all family.’
The two sisters gave a collective gasp, both of their faces drawn to Shilah’s wrists and then the loose chains upon her lap. Their twin bodies dipped forwards until the metal on their wrists went taut. The freckled sister’s tattered shirt fell off her shoulder to reveal more than I was prepared to take in.
I quickly looked away to give the girl her privacy, but not before noticing that she’d been disfigured from navel to neck, the entirety of her breast covered in small burns. I stared instead at the Coldmaker, trying not to wince and feel her pain. ‘Your shir—’
‘You got out of thum chains!’ Freckled Sister said. ‘Show us! You pocket a key from yah master or somethun?’
‘We were never chained in,’ Shilah said, her eyes softening as she took in the girl’s burns.
‘How’d yah get out!’ the fully clothed sister chimed. ‘Don’t lie. Don’t hold out on us or me and Ellcia gunn break every one of thum fingers when we get free.’
Shilah paused for a second and then smiled. ‘You know what, I changed my mind. I like the rude. We can definitely be friends.’
‘Friends shah keys, little priss,’ Ellcia hissed, tossing the cloth half-heartedly back over her chest. She attempted to spit, but her mouth seemed too dry to produce any moisture. ‘Whichya single braid and straight back likes yah some priss wann-bee.’
Shilah’s smile only grew broader. ‘I told you, we don’t have a key. But we do have something better.’
The sister without the freckles chimed in. ‘You got food and watah in yah boyfriend’s bag? We dunn get to have nuthin in this cart. That’s suspicious. You working for Ka’in?’
The fourth and final Domestic in the cart had yet to wake. She the looked thinnest of the group, her hair cut short and uneven, almost hacked apart. Her sunken chest was still moving up and down, but her tongue was peeking slightly from her lips. I couldn’t tell if she was listening in or actually asleep, and I hoped the caravan merchants would stop and bring rations soon.
‘Calm down,’ Leah said, gesturing once again with twitchy hands. ‘These new friends are probably just as scared as you two.’
Both sisters turned on Leah with a simultaneous hiss. ‘Not scared!’
Leah tittered, her face lighting up and her hands and chain dropping back into her lap. Her laugh was something special as well, musical in a way, pitch perfect and lovely. Suddenly I wished I knew how to be as carefree and funny as Cam. Considering how I felt at the moment, trapped and desperate, I doubted I’d be making her laugh anytime in the near future.
Leah rattled her wrists in the manacles, her eyebrows angling to make her face even more expressive. ‘I’m Leah, obviously. Originally from Belisk. And these lovely girls are Ellia and Ellcia, all the way from the Shocklands.’
I’d never actually met anyone from the Shocklands, which explained why the sisters’ accents sounded strange. The place was practically off the map, as East as East goes. Leroi had taught me that the city’s population was small since it was far from the capitol. The Nobles living in the Shocklands stayed for mainly one reason. Heat lightning was a nightly occurrence in the surrounding plains, powerful bolts whipping down from the sky to sear the dunes. The results were hardened designs of glass, trapped in magnificent sculptures. They ranged anywhere from the size of a fist to the size of a whole street. The Nobles that studied them called themselves ‘statuaries’ and claimed that the shock sculptures were the Crier’s art. They spent days on excavation and interpretation, sending any transportable pieces to the Khat’s Pyramid. I’d actually seen a few pieces being carried through the Capitol Quarter on massive wagons, looking wonderfully shiny and mysterious. Abb always told me the messages the statuaries saw within the pieces were nonsense, and were just another way to make themselves feel important.
‘We all lived together in the Sanctuary,’ Leah explained further, her fingers returning to their strange twitching, wrists joining in this time with quick rotations. ‘Until we escaped.’
‘What’s the Sanctuary?’ Shilah asked.
‘Brainless priss,’ Ellcia said with a scoff, sitting back against her lumpy boilweed mound. Ellia was quick to copy the movement and give a light echo of her sister’s words. ‘Priss.’
Leah rolled her eyes. ‘Don’t mind them, most outsiders don’t know much about what goes on in the City of David’s Fall these days. Not since Ka’in took over.’
‘You all worked in a Drifthouse?’ Shilah asked, moving her legs up because the yellow puddle was seeping closer to her feet.
Leah gave a sad shake of her head, her hair bouncier in the twine than I’d expected it to be. ‘But that would have been much preferred.’
‘The Drifthouses aren’t exactly pleasant,’ Shilah said carefully. ‘What exactly were you running from?’
‘A pampered plaything with no edges wouldn’t understand,’ Ellcia said. ‘Now gimme that key you hiding, bitch.’
‘Watch it,’ I said, still careful not to look directly at Ellci
a’s shirt, which was a twitch away from falling open again. ‘She’s not what you think. She’s special.’
Shilah’s back wrenched as straight as possible, not meeting my eyes. ‘Pampered plaything? Does this look like I’m a pampered plaything to you?’ She pulled back her sleeve, revealing the Opened Eye tattoo. ‘Does it?’
I was expecting a more drastic reaction from the twins, but Ellcia only shrugged. Ellia watched for her sister’s reaction before shrugging too.
‘So what,’ Ellcia said, tapping at her freckles. ‘Lots of us got ink, priss.’
‘It’s the Eye of Langria!’ Shilah exclaimed, far too loud.
I shot her a disapproving look, but thankfully the cart kept rolling. The cracks in the walls were small and jagged, and I wondered if the Jadans pulling the cart along the Khat’s road could hear what we were saying.
‘It’s the Eye of Langria,’ Shilah said again, much quieter this time, pulling her sleeve up further.
‘Yeah, well, Langria ain’t real,’ Ellcia said. ‘Why you think we was running South?’
‘Langria is real,’ I said, my voice giving an embarrassing crack.
Ellcia gave a flirty grin, her teeth far too nice for a Jadan. She reached across the cart with her foot, sliding it up and down my calf seductively. ‘All of a sudden yuh boyfriend’s got a mouth. Speak yuhself up boyfriend.’
‘He’s my partner,’ Shilah said, pushing Ellcia’s leg away from mine and giving me a nod. ‘Micah.’
‘Langria is real,’ I said, trying to keep my voice from breaking. ‘We were told by someone I trust. She said the march is always North.’
‘Oh!’ Ellcia giggled with delight. ‘The Coldmarch. How cute.’
Ellia looked at her sister and then let out a titter herself. ‘Can you believe it?’
‘You think the Coldmarch is going to get you into Langria?’ Ellcia asked, running her tongue over her top teeth.
‘So you’re admitting it’s there,’ Shilah said in a victorious manner.
‘She never said it wun’t there,’ Ellia butted in, looking over at her sister with caution. ‘She said it wun’t real.’
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