A few of the masked Nobles chuckled.
‘Or is it who’s a Noble without Noble sport?’ Ka’in pondered to himself, his smile dashing.
A few men behind him began to answer, but Ka’in waved them silent, his face distorting with rage. ‘Now which of you slaves stole my Frost? Which one of you figured out how to make Ice on my courtyard door?’
The silence sat heavily, but a part of me perked up. So the bastard did have at least one Frost here. I should have felt defeated and terrified, staring down so many enemies, but I had sort of been expecting this. I was left more excited than anything else.
Ka’in underestimated us.
The crossbow felt delightfully light in my hand, practically aiming itself. It wasn’t every day I got to tinker with pain.
Ka’in swayed back and forth, impatient. ‘I was so good to you girls. I made you beautiful and safe. Fed you bountiful food that only the Khat eats, and this is the thanks I get? Twice runaways. Runawayaways. And you!’ Ka’in thrust a finger at Shilah, and then quickly returned it back to his mouth and kissed the tip. ‘On your first night here you cause such a ruckus? What spirit. I see you have the potential to be most beautiful.’
Whispers from the masked Nobles filtered around the room, the echoes tight.
Shilah straightened up, defiant as always.
‘Sneaked your brother in?’ Ka’in asked. ‘Wanted him to be beautiful, too? Sorry, no skinny little boy slaves in my Khatdom.’ He tossed his head back over his shoulder, gesturing with his chin to the army of masks. ‘I’m the only beautiful boy here.’
A few chuckles from behind, but Ka’in waved them silent again, not the reaction he was wanting.
‘Ready for round two, Ellcia?’ he asked. ‘Did you want more? Your name is going on five scrolls this month.’
Ellcia folded into herself.
Ellia folded deeper, practically disappearing.
‘I mean it,’ Ka’in said, walking towards us. ‘I need to know who wasted my Frost. What did you do to it? I didn’t even think a Frost could make Ice, so it’s one thing to—’
‘It wasn’t your Frost,’ I said, cutting him off. ‘It was the Crier’s wrath.’
‘Oh, is that right, ugly little brother?’ Ka’in said. ‘The Ice just appeared? Conjured out of the wind?’
The masked Nobles gave a collective chuckle, the room buzzing. One of them gave an overly dramatic lick of his lips underneath the mask, his eyes pinned on Leah.
Leah tucked herself further behind Cam.
I paused. ‘Yes. In a way it did.’
Silence.
‘Oh, don’t fret, boy slave,’ Ka’in said. ‘There might be something in my Sanctuary for you. I have sport, yes. But I also have my hobbies. Hamman, you can quit the act now. Drop that crossbow before—’
‘Dunes,’ I said, my heart swelling with a dark excitement.
‘Yes, Meshua?’ Dunes asked.
‘Drop the bucket.’
‘What bucket, Meshua?’ he asked.
Ka’in looked around, confused. ‘What bucket?’
‘Never mind,’ I said, steadying my crossbow with my injured hand.
I aimed just a bit higher than my intended target, and hoped my father was watching.
The glass eye exploded outwards into a massive cloud of Cold. Shards of crystal and deadly winds sprayed backwards from the frame, right into the heart of the masked Nobles and guards. Blood sprayed the Sinai. The room tinged red. Glass sluiced through Cold-burned flesh, and the whole row closest to the blast toppled over and fell to the ground. The rest of the guards tried to swat away the Cold and the shards of Ice burning into their flesh. The wave of air rebounded off all the walls, sweeping robes and feet, causing mayhem. Cold splashed my face, my cheeks trembling with rage.
The masked Nobles screamed and tried to make sense of the carnage.
My lips curled into a twisted smile as I yanked the bow back and loaded in another Abb.
Ka’in was already plastered on the sands, forced down so hard he was practically buried. All of the scrolls around him had been flattened. His whole back was encrusted with Ice. I wanted to go over and do my Crying Dance on his fallen body. This time I would move with justice and rage, burying him deeper and deeper. I would dance him into a hole so endless that not even the Sun could reach.
‘Meshua!’ Dunes called over the mess of screams.
‘Yes, Dunes,’ I replied, giddy, the cool wind still thick in my hair.
‘May I shoot as well?’ he called.
‘Shoot everything you have!’ I laughed.
I didn’t care about Frosts, or the fact that our Abbs were limited. All I cared about was destroying every last one of these Nobles. I wanted to burn Ice down their throats and into their souls.
Dunes fired an Abb square into one of the guard’s chest plates. The burst of Cold and Ice was so spectacular that I almost felt at a loss. He must have been killed on the spot without having suffered. The crystal arms of Ice grabbed hold of his neighbouring guards so quickly that they didn’t even have a chance to scream. They would spend eternity stuck together. I laughed deeper and louder.
Our group retreated towards the door. The guards waiting there were too stunned to do much of anything. Cam fired into the crowd next. I couldn’t see exactly where his Abb landed, but it must have struck something solid, because once again the Nobles scattered and screamed under the resounding wave of Cold. The charged air trampled through their ranks.
My smile couldn’t grow any larger.
Split let loose next, firing his Abbs in succession, shouting ‘Anyah’ and ‘Lizah’ between each concussive burst. He snarled with pure vengeance.
Dunes fired one Abb after another into the crowd alongside the Pedlar, loading the golden beads almost as quickly as they left the shaft of his crossbow. He struck the guards and Nobles trying to flee into the secret passage, freezing them on the spot. Their masked faces were left crisp and bitten, buried in a deadly mist that might never fade.
Leah, Ellia, and Ellcia looked too stunned to make sense of anything. The sisters had their hands pressed over their ears. Shilah’s fists were balled at her sides. She was seething with jealousy.
‘Dunes!’ I shouted.
He dropped his crossbow, giving me a serious look. ‘Yes, Meshua?’
I gestured to the guards by the door. The Cold cloud in the room was getting too thick, piling on itself and getting more violent, hungrier. If we didn’t get out of there soon we were in danger of being swallowed too.
Dunes took his blade off his hip. Before I could even issue another command, both of the guards had been eviscerated. Two powerful blows to their necks and stomachs left them bleeding on the ground.
‘Let’s go!’ I shouted, waving for our group to retreat back to the hallway.
We all rushed out and I slammed the door closed. ‘Run! Hurry!’
The Domestics were still somewhat in shock, although they didn’t seem as stunned as they could have been. We all ran, Split being the slowest, but his fingers remained away from his thigh. For once I saw peace in the Pedlar’s eyes.
When we were a safe distance away I loaded another Abb into my weapon. I fired at the Closed Eye on the door and Iced the entire thing shut, sealing all the Nobles to their deaths.
I felt no guilt.
I doubted that I ever would.
‘We’ll leave the way we came in,’ I said, the Warrior in my voice. My heart pounded at an unfathomable rate. ‘No one is going to stop us.’
Shilah looked at me with a whole new respect.
The Domestics fell to their knees.
Dunes bowed.
Cam refrained from his jokes.
And so we left the way we came.
No one stopped us.
No one raised an alarm.
I assume we’d killed all the people who would have done so.
So in quiet serenity we sneaked back out of the side entrance of the Sanctuary. Dunes stopped to check the pulse of
the fallen guard in the corner, telling us that he lived. I wasn’t sure if I cared.
When we passed by the stained-glass representation of David’s Fall, I loaded an Abb and shot the windows too. The whole thing shattered into a thousand pieces of brightly coloured memory.
Chapter Twenty-Three
For the next three days we took refuge in the cave, Dunes and I making trips back to the markets to steal supplies during the dark of night. We got caught twice, but Dunes pretended to be a Hookman again, and we were sent on our way. The whole City of David’s Fall was swarming with taskmasters and guards, on high alert after what had happened at the Sanctuary. Word had it that the Khat was already on his way. I don’t know how that would have been possible, since Paphos was many days’ journey from the City of David’s Fall, but in case there was a large force amassing our way, we gathered food, water, and stole as many vials of groan slave from the apothecaries as we could in preparation, stocking up on everything we would need to hide out and start healing.
Of the nine of us, only Picka rested particularly well.
Everyone had their reasons.
Ellcia was only able to sleep for short spells, sputtering awake with shouts of ‘trick’ and ‘priss’, and things I’d hesitate to repeat. Ellia couldn’t stop staring at the empty cavern tunnels long enough to relax, jolting at every tiny sound, whether it be a soft cough or the groan of ancient rock. Shilah was clearly in too much pain to sleep, writhing on top of her blanket. She’d set up towards the back of the cave next to the Adaam Grass, trying not to move too much so she wouldn’t keep reopening her wounds. Cam was too worried about Shilah to sleep. He kept bringing her orangefruit, which she begrudgingly ate. I continually offered to give her some of the Glassland Dream, but she only agreed to use groan salve, and even then, never enough, claiming she wanted to save it for the others. I didn’t ask to see her injuries again, but I knew they were bad.
Leah’s hands danced in the air in front of her all night, as if stroking long strings made of the darkness. She even did it when she managed to fall asleep.
Split and Picka both kept exceptionally quiet, mostly huddling together near the entrance, on self-proclaimed watch duty. Every once in a while Split would lead Picka over to Shilah to keep her company, and then return to his station. The Pedlar kept rifling through the Book of the March, as if searching for something important. I asked him what he was looking for, but he shook his head and said: ‘It’s like I’m reading it for the first time.’
He finally told us as much as he could about the Coldmarch, which turned out to be surprisingly meagre. The Jadans in charge of Langria were secretive, only telling the Shepherds as much as they needed to know. Split speculated that this tactic was in case the Shepherds were discovered by a Vicaress and tortured. Split had never actually been inside Langria, only knowing the location’s general whereabouts, which was somewhere near the Great Divide. Dunes didn’t know where it was either – the Hookmen were always stopped by hidden forces if they travelled too far North. The armies of Langria were trained to shoot arrows with incredible accuracy, and had weapons that lit the sands themselves on fire. They knew every scrap of land, and set massive traps for any invading forces. Apparently in eight hundred years, the Khat’s armies had never broken through the front lines.
‘But how were you going to get us in?’ I asked Split.
He simply pointed to the Coldmaker.
Later he told us about the rigorous process the Shepherds had to go through before they were trusted enough to have a stretch of March for themselves. About how the Marcheyes – which is what Mama Jana was – were always on the lookout for exceptional Jadans to send North. The allotted slots diminished every year before it was all shut down, and by the end, the prospective Jadans had to bear some characteristic from one of the prophecies to justify being selected. Shilah huffed when Split told us that bit. The Pedlar let us flip through the tome as much as we liked, and even though I couldn’t read the text, I could feel its importance. Split was kind enough to translate any passages I pointed out.
There were predictions of Jadan armies rising from the dead and storming Paphos. Of a Jadan so strong that whips would break off his skin like glass against stone. Of secrets hidden in the land, that when spoken aloud would change sand to grass. Of a Jadan falling from the stars and being born in the Cry Patch. Of plagues. Of the Singe turning to stone. Of all the Nobles dying of firepox. Of the Crierson. Of peace. Of war.
None of the prophecies mentioned an invention.
That made me smile.
We waited for three days, trying to come up with a plan. But amongst the pain of healing and worry about our future, there was an air of hope.
There was even something like celebration at certain points. We feasted as much as our rations would allow, laughing and telling the best stories we knew. Split told us about Baba Levante, and the shows he would put on for his daughter, and I decided that someday I’d find his puppet.
We all knew this period of rest couldn’t last, but it was joyous nonetheless.
The Coldmaker was a beacon, sitting proud and gleaming even in the dim candlelight. I turned it on and made a few Abbs so the new Domestics could see the machine in action, hoping to lift their spirits and earn their trust. I tried not to think too much about its impending demise. Gasps and prayers abounded as the gold formed, especially from Ellia, but I stopped the machine after only two Abbs. The sisters spent long periods of time kneeling next to the machine, drawing their fingers along their cheeks as they cried for their kin left behind. Leah stared at the bronze Opened Eye on the machine for long stretches as well, tracing the shape. Leah asked Shilah all sorts of things about the machine, learning its secrets, but never addressing me directly. I found this bewildering, but in a way preferred it.
I wasn’t ready to reveal the dying Frost.
The flock was counting on me, and I was failing them.
I’d tried adding the Cold Charge from the Sinai while everyone was sleeping, but still the Abbs came out slowly, and the Frost continued to shrink. After that, my heart was left a little lonelier than before. I tried not to dwell on things too much, telling myself about the inevitable obstacles I would face, but it was no use. This wasn’t just an obstacle. This was an ending. Soon we would be left with nothing but a vacuous hole where bright change once glistened.
Some saviour.
Shilah could tell something was going on with me, but I kept deflecting, assuring her I was just worried about finishing the Coldmarch. She didn’t believe me, and was relentless.
But our stalemate held steady, and so attentions turned elsewhere. Shilah told the new Domestics about Little Langria, and I told them about my tinker-wall growing up. Dunes relayed the story about watching our little group cross the Singe on a boat of Ice, and about Meshua. Unfortunately, even with my making it clear that Shilah and I were equal in the creation of the Coldmaker, everyone still began to look to me as a leader, even Split deferring to me over every issue.
I tried to rise to the challenge, the whole time doing my best impression of my father. I stood tall, spoke truth, and kept calm. I felt like a complete fraud. I may have had Abb’s numbers tattooed on the back of my neck, but I couldn’t pretend I had even half of his wisdom.
Shilah kept on about what was bothering me. The blackness on my left hand wasn’t getting any better, or worse, so I blamed it on that.
She didn’t believe me.
On the third night I finally broke.
I sat on the edge of the pool, my feet dipped in the swirling water. Shilah was sitting by my side, legs curled underneath her, her fingers submerged and being tickled by the current. Everyone else was asleep.
‘You finally ready?’ Shilah asked, her voice as soft as the waters.
I looked around, seeing no one stirring. ‘For?’
‘You know,’ she said.
I felt heat rise into my face.
She peeled back her shirt enough to show the tip of the bu
rns on her chest, still slick with a thin layer of salve. I only glimpsed a bit of the damage, but I could imagine the pain.
‘Is this what you need to see?’ she asked.
I turned my face away, mortified.
‘Spout,’ she said quietly.
I kept my face on the waters, trying to read them.
There was nothing there.
‘You’re not alone.’ She gently grabbed my wrist and placed my injured fingers against her breast, so they lightly touched. ‘You always think you’re alone, but you’re not.’
Pain shot through my arm. Shilah flinched too.
‘Stop,’ I said, pulling my hand away. ‘Sorry.’
She grabbed my wrist hard this time and pressed my blackened fingers back on her burned flesh, staring me straight in the eyes, holding my gaze. Her beauty was only enhanced by the pain ringing her eyes, and she squeezed our wounds together, making them one. Neither of us called out, instead sharing a look that would leave its own scar.
‘Don’t tell me,’ she whispered.
I nodded.
She let go, planting a kiss on my cheek.
‘No manipulation,’ she said with a smirk. ‘Don’t tell me.’
‘The Coldmaker,’ I said with a sigh, nursing my hand against my chest. ‘The Frost inside is getting smaller. It’s going to run out.’
Shilah nodded without any surprise, as if she already knew. ‘Is that it?’
‘What do you mean, is that it?’
She got up, walking over to the dancing platform. Kneeling down at the base of the machine, she flipped all the right levers to get the Coldmaker open on the first try, allowing the bronze box to reveal its inner workings.
‘You remembered,’ I said.
She gave me the kind of look that reminded me to think twice before saying such obvious things. I held up my hands in apology.
I glanced over to where the Domestics were sleeping, and saw that Ellia was awake now. She quickly closed her eyes and pretended she wasn’t watching, but I knew that our terrible secret was out.
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