Ben nodded. He was exhausted and ready for sleep, wondering when someone would offer them a new tent.
Abbas came to them. Isika had her head on her knees, and the first streaks of light were showing over the desert horizon.
“Bring me to the well,” she said, after a moment. “We will need clean water to help with healing.”
She called the clean water back to the well, drawing the poison out of it and sending it far away. And then she lay near the dry stream bed and called the waters of Lake Ayo back to the surface. Soon the stream bed was running with water again and Isika sat pouring it over her head with her hands.
“That’s better,” she said. “But I still need to sleep for a week.”
Ben laughed at her and let her lean on him while they walked to the new tent. He wasn’t looking forward to telling Isika that their father was getting ready to install Aria as heir. He decided to tell her in the morning. Seas and skies, she could insist on leaving today if she knew.
Chapter 23
Jabari squeezed through an opening between two walls and nearly tripped over a nest of snakes. He shouted, leaping back and smacking into Deto, who was right on his heels. Deto fell backward toward Ivy, and the three of them landed in a pile in the muck that lined the dark streets of the small city.
Oof.
“Jabari!” Ivy shrieked. “Look at this mess! Why can’t you ever be careful?”
Jabari was too busy trying to untangle himself from the pile of arms and legs to answer. Several white snakes began slithering through the opening, looking for the people who had stumbled on their nest. Jabari couldn’t move fast enough. Everything was slippery. He tried to warn the others but his voice stuttered.
“What?” Ivy snapped, thoroughly angry, but then she caught sight of the snakes whipping their long heads back and forth. She screamed.
“Go, go, go!” Jabari said, finally locating his voice, and they scrambled to their feet, tearing back down the narrow alleyway.
When it looked like the snakes weren’t following, Jabari slowed to catch his breath, exchanging glances with Deto and Ivy, who shook their heads wordlessly. Jabari wound his way back out onto the main street. He was winded from the heat of the midday sun and the quick escape, sweating because of the stuffy air in the stacks of buildings on the edge of the Desert City. They hadn’t even reached Dhahara and Jabari was already tired of the smell.
“Gavi, you are going to be in so much trouble,” Jabari muttered fiercely as he tried in vain to wipe the slime from his hands and clothes. Ivy wrinkled her nose at him.
“You tackle Gavi. I’ll take the first swipe,” she said.
Deto looked back and forth between them, eyebrows raised. He peeled his ser off his head and used it to wipe at a line of mud that stretched from his shoulder to his wrist.
“You are both going to fall on him crying when you find him. You can’t fool me.”
Jabari wasn’t so sure. They had been sleeping rolled up in their cloaks in ditches and behind barns. They had been eating flatbread and the occasional lizard, and now they were trying to find secret ways through alleys and cracks in walls so they could get into the Desert City without being discovered.
He looked up and realized they were attracting attention even now. The three of them stood out. Jabari the tallest, clearly from Maween, not really looking or walking like a slave or even a simple Gariah. Then Ivy, like a queen, not even a little bit subservient. Jabari had reminded her a hundred times that Gariah women didn’t parade around looking like they ruled the world, but she didn’t know how to make herself look miserable. It wasn’t her way.
And Deto was a rarity in the desert. There were only a handful of people who looked like his mountain tribe, with his sand-colored skin, long eyes and wind-reddened cheeks, his flat, high cheekbones. People kept whispering and pointing at him, and Jabari had to agree that he looked like something out of a storybook, one of the old fighters whose birds fought just as fiercely as they.
“Now what are you going to put over your head?” he asked Deto testily. “You can’t walk around like that. Look at the people staring at you.”
“I have a spare,” Deto said mildly. “A clean one. Don’t worry, I’ll hide my strange face. You should also hide your princeliness, but if you want to pretend I’m the odd one of the bunch, you can. What’s with you, anyway?”
“He’s been like this ever since we had to leave Isika,” Ivy said.
Jabari scowled, refusing to acknowledge that comment. “So,” he said, ignoring their smirks, “obviously that snake road isn’t open. Let’s find another way.” He grinned suddenly. “And you’re ones to talk. Don’t think I haven’t seen you holding hands when you think I’m not looking.”
This city was little more than a grouping of tottery buildings that leaned against the walls of Dhahara, and Jabari felt there must be a passage through the walls. They needed to find it. He didn’t want to announce himself at the front gate of the city. Jabari would love to avoid getting pulled into the Desert King’s prison right from the start.
“Where is Eemia when we need her?” Ivy asked.
“She told me she was going to search ahead a bit,” Jabari said. “Hopefully she’ll come back. But you know Eemia. She’s sweeter than Keethior but more imperious, if that’s possible.” He scanned the buildings around them, then settled on one that looked promising. “I’m going to climb up to the top of that roof and see if I can find us a way into the city.”
“You’re not going to blend in that way,” Deto commented.
“It’s the lesser of two evils,” Jabari said.
“Says you,” Ivy said, but she made herself comfortable, leaning against a stone wall.
Jabari sprang to the top of a short wall, then found footholds to launch himself up the sides of the building he had chosen, a short, two-storied sandstone thing that had a sign proclaiming it was a tailor’s house. It was easy to climb. He used the edge of an open window on the second story as a handhold and had a shock when he found himself face to face with a cross-legged tailor. The old man regarded him for a few moments, then spoke.
“Do you mean me harm?” he asked.
“Not at all,” Jabari responded. “I’m just trying to get a better view from the top of your roof.”
The old man gestured with one hand. “As you wish. And on your way back down, come and tell me what you are seeking. I may be able to help.” He adjusted the glasses perched on the end of his beaky nose and went back to his stitching.
Jabari watched him for a moment, then said, “Thank you, Uncle.” He kept climbing. At the top of the house, he peered down at the back alleys and thought about what he had seen on this journey so far.
The Gariah were not what he had expected. The people were not evil. They were much like the Maweel, but bent and broken by their harsh ruler, Isika’s father. He thought also about what Ivy had said to him, about being grumpy because he was away from Isika. She was right, but it was only part of his situation. Jabari had a sharp pain in his chest. It stayed with him from morning until night and he knew what caused it. Gavi’s absence. His brother was his closest friend and companion. No one knew him better and he hadn’t known how much he counted on that understanding. Until that seeking journey last year, the brothers hadn’t been separated since Gavi’s rescue day. Their mother said there was no way Jabari could remember that, but Jabari knew she was wrong.
That day had changed his life. His parents had come home and told two-year-old Jabari that he had a new brother, and there was Gavi, the tiny pale boy with huge eyes. His hair was so white and stuck straight up from his head. And after that there was Gavi, there was always Gavi, and Jabari was never alone again.
Until now.
Jabari saw nothing but dead ends. Alley after alley seemed to be blocked by buildings, or wood, or simply the solid wall. He gritted his teeth, vibrating with impatience. The sooner Jabari could get to Gavi, the sooner he could gather him up and bring him back, find Isika again,
and all would be well. As for Aria, he only hoped they could convince her to come too. The things going on with her seemed deeper than any of them could fix.
He was going to have to trust the tailor.
He clambered back down to the window and rested his elbows on the opening. The tailor seemed much the same as when Jabari had left, unperturbed by the young man at his window.
“We need to get into the Desert City unseen,” Jabari said. “There is no alley that appears to lead inside.”
The tailor took a pin out of his mouth and regarded Jabari from beneath bushy eyebrows. “Oh, is that all? Well you wouldn’t find that on your own.” He looked at him for a few moments. “Do you mean harm to our people?” he asked.
Jabari gave a start. The man knew he was not Gariah.
“Is it that obvious that I’m not from here?” he asked.
The tailor laughed a wheezy laugh. “You can’t imagine that you, or your companions are passing as Gariah,” he gestured down to Ivy and Deto leaning against the wall. Holding hands again. Jabari scowled. “You are as obvious as that ancient bird that has been flying past every day.”
Jabari swallowed. “No,” he said. “We mean harm to no one. I am seeking my brother and my friend. They have come this way.”
“Do they wish to be found?” the man asked.
“Yes,” Jabari said. “At least I think so.”
“Well then, head to the Hardy Cactus and find a woman named Eva. She will show you the way.”
“Thank you,” Jabari said.
“Tell that friend of yours to keep his head covered. His people are only in the city as slaves. He could get picked up by sellers or the palace guard.” Jabari nodded, feeling a kind of sad justification at his accurate predictions about Deto. What kind of horror was this city?
When Jabari was back on the ground, relaying these instructions, both Ivy and Deto burst out laughing at him.
“Are you serious, cousin-brother?” Ivy asked. “You really think we should follow a tailor you met in the sky, searching for a pub with what—a secret door?”
Jabari shrugged. “It’s the best we’ve got. And you need to get that first punch at Gavi’s face, don’t you?”
Ivy and Deto were still laughing when they finally found the Hardy Cactus, which was located at the wall that opened into Dhahara itself. But they stopped laughing when the woman named Eva showed them through crowds of sleepy and drunk people to a small closet. She opened the door to reveal dusty bottles . . . and a door.
“It’s a long walk,” the woman said. “And I don’t show so many people the way anymore, since the soldiers have been growing smarter about the secret ways. But you will find a corridor that eventually comes to the filth of the lowest part of the city. Get ready to be dirty.”
Jabari glanced at Ivy and grinned. “Too late.”
Ivy grimaced. “He’s in so much trouble,” she muttered.
They thanked the woman and pushed through what felt like miles of cobwebs in a narrow corridor that was barely wider than their shoulders. The corridor smelled damp, like old earth, and the coolness was a welcome respite from the bright heat of the desert above.
“This is disgusting,” Ivy said, wiping slime and cobwebs off of her arms.
“What are you talking about?” Jabari asked, turning to untangle himself from a beam that was broken at the top of the corridor. “It’s delightful.”
“I’m glad you’re having fun,” Deto grumbled. He was picking cobwebs out of his long braid.
“I see light ahead,” Ivy said. “So we don’t have to talk any more about whether this is delightful or disgusting. In fact, we should be quiet, because we have no idea where we’re going to turn up.”
They drew near the opening of the corridor in silence, peering outside, blinking in the bright sunlight. When they wiggled out of the opening, they were at the the end of an alleyway, sheltered from sight by stacks of old sacks of rotting onions. The stench was horrible. Jabari covered his face and gestured for the others to follow him. He made his way as quickly as he could up the alley toward a busier street ahead, only to bump into a tall woman at the beginning of the alley.
She was taller than him. He stared at her in shock. She looked so familiar. Then he remembered they weren’t supposed to be noticed, and looked down, but not before she got a good look at him.
“What are you three doing down that way?” she demanded, leaning back on her heels and crossing her arms. “There’s nothing to see over there.”
Abbas, that’s who it was. The woman looked like Abbas. She was dressed in the simple earth-colored clothes of the Gariah people, though, not like a Karee woman.
“We’re lost,” Jabari said. “Have you by any chance seen . . .” he grasped for something, “a blacksmith around here?”
“A blacksmith.” The woman didn’t move, keeping her arms crossed. “You were looking for a blacksmith in the trash alley.”
Ivy and Deto were giving Jabari looks.
“Oh,” Jabari said. “Is that the trash alley? We’re totally turned around,” he said to Ivy and Deto. “Why did you think it was down there?” He held in a gasp as the sharp point of Ivy’s elbow jammed into his ribs. “Well, we’ll just be on our way, then.”
They scurried off and it wasn’t until they had turned down a few streets that Jabari lost the feeling of the woman’s eyes on his back. In his panic to get away, he almost didn’t see what was around him, but eventually he noticed that they were in some kind of horrible slum. Filth coated the sidewalks, people lay on the side of the road, beggars reached out their hands to them.
They stopped for a moment.
“Where are we going?” Ivy asked.
“And who was the woman who looked like Abbas?” Deto whispered loudly.
“His sister,” a voice said, and the three of them turned to find the woman standing beside them again, her arms still crossed.
“Argh!” Jabari exclaimed, jumping away from her.
“Are you done pretending to look for a blacksmith now? We’ve been expecting you. Come.”
“Is this wise?” Deto whispered, as they followed the woman.
“She said she was Abbas’s sister?”
“Anyone could say they were anyone’s sister after someone else says they look like that person,” Deto muttered.
“Now you’re just saying words that make no sense,” Ivy said. “Do you have a better idea? How about you, blacksmith?”
Jabari narrowed his eyes at her, but he didn’t have a better idea, so they continued to follow the tall woman who was clearly a warrior, judging by her stance and bearing. After a few turns of her head, Jabari grew increasingly convinced that it was actually Abbas’s sister. She looked enough like him to be his twin.
After a while, they stood before a small doorway with a symbol of an unfinished circle etched into it. The woman gave a complicated knock, and the door swung open. Gavi stood before them, surprise on his face, blond hair sticking up into ten different directions.
Emotion welled up in Jabari and he tackled his brother, gripping him in a hug that tumbled them into the doorway and had Gavi gasping and laughing. Ivy and Deto joined in the hug, and the warrior woman shoved them farther into the room, closing the door behind them.
Finally they released one another and Jabari dashed tears out of his eyes. His brother clasped his shoulder.
“You are in so much trouble,” Jabari said in a cracking voice.
“Mmm, I thought you would say that,” Gavi answered. “But why is your hair coated in cobwebs?” He pulled some out of Jabari’s hair, wiping them off his hands.
“They came through the eastern tunnel,” the tall woman said. She was now sitting at a table, eating sections of an orange. “I was watching that entrance.”
It took a moment, but then Jabari understood that she had known who they were from the first. He felt embarrassed and aware that Ivy would probably call him “blacksmith” for a year. He looked around at the other people in the ro
om. There was an old woman, a couple of Gariah men, a few children, some women who came back and forth from another room with food, and a man who wore a long, red robe.
“You,” Jabari said, his mouth open. “You were with him. At the fire. You are in my dreams. Who are you? What is this place?”
The man gazed back at Jabari. “You will learn all you wish about the Circle in time, son of Andar. But what about your future queen? Where is she? For our plan to work, she must be here.”
Chapter 24
After the healing of the well and stream, Isika recovered slowly. Along with resting to get strong again, she was trying to learn to shield herself. Asafar spent hours teaching her. Olumi sat in on the lessons, listening in perfect stillness, his hair coiled around him on the ground. He and Asafar became good friends, and Isika loved the sight of them striding around the camp together, Asafar nearly twice the height of the short librarian, the librarian’s long locks swinging in the dust. He sometimes carried them over his arm to keep them out of the sand, like he was a servant carrying a towel.
At times, waves of poison ache nearly overcame her, and she would stumble and fall while walking, losing all strength. For some time she thought it was exhaustion from such a big healing, but Asafar shook his head at her theory. He pulled her up after she had fallen on a walk with him and Olumi.
“No,” he said. “You are recovered from the healing. This is poison from Aria’s betrayal.”
Isika stared at him. “But she hasn’t betrayed us yet.”
“Even walking in the direction of your father was a form of betrayal. It only gets stronger as she plans to become heir. She will get stronger as the time grows close, and you will grow weaker. Betrayal is truly the most evil sort of magic.”
“The arrow,” Isika said. “It’s the arrow that is making her do this. You must come and heal her.”
“No,” Asafar said, taking a step back. His face was shocked. “I will never leave my people and put myself in danger by going to the Desert City. They are lost without me.”
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