I turned to Moussa who stood beside me. A hand went into his pocket, and he pulled out a pinch of the gem candy dust I’d given him the other night. Shrugging, he offered it to me first.
I shook my head. ‘Have you not eaten it yet?’ I asked, knowing full well how hard it must have been not to devour all the sugar the second it was in his possession.
‘I saved it for a special occasion.’ Moussa gestured around the room. ‘Seems appropriate now. Bad times are ahead.’
‘You think?’
Moussa’s face soured. He smelled of a long shift, and his breathing was still a bit wheezy and shallow. Abb had said his rib would heal within a few weeks. ‘They always are.’
From my other side, Matty said: ‘I want to meet the Shiver Girl. She’s invincible.’
‘Invincible, huh?’
‘And did’ja know she can fly?’
I paused, holding back my smile. ‘How do you know?’
Matty gave me a look questioning if I was being serious. ‘Because the Vicaress didn’t catch her.’
‘But what if the Vicaress did catch her, but the Boilweed Girl is just invincible,’ I replied.
Matty thought about it, his face scrunching with the effort. ‘That’s prolly it. I’m jealous you got to see her.’
Moussa’s eyes went dark. ‘Here’s the thing, Matty. You’re too young to understand how bad this is. She’s a plague.’
‘Ten’s not that little.’ Matty smiled, bright and big. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the metal and yarn feather, waving it in front of my eyes. I wasn’t sure how the thing hadn’t been confiscated yet, since he always kept it on him during his errands. ‘Especially if you don’t know long you’re going to live.’
I was stunned, my stomach flipping into a horrified knot. I looked over at Moussa for help, but he looked just as taken aback.
‘Matty,’ I said. My chest squeezed, but he had a point. I couldn’t help but think of the one-eyed boy I’d delivered to the alley; he’d looked even younger than Matty.
Matty kept waving the feather, possibly oblivious to how sad his statement came across. His smile didn’t falter as he watched the yarn dance.
Moussa tried to step in. ‘You can’t look at it like—’
‘I don’t mean it in a bad way,’ Matty said. ‘It’s like, some things prolly don’t last as long as they should.’ The feather caught the first of the starlight through the roof. ‘It makes ’em special,’ he continued. ‘And then you can hope they come back.’
I felt my throat swell shut, struggling to keep the tears out of my eyes.
‘For now, let’s just assume we’re all going to work the Patches together,’ I said. ‘And then the Pyramid, and we’ll all die as old men with grey hair.’ I tried on a smile, but it didn’t fit. ‘Maybe we’ll even finish your board game.’
‘Grey hair like Zeti Gum?’ Matty thrust the feather across the room like a sword.
Old Man Gum was standing with the Builders, but he was facing the wrong way, and seemed to be attempting to carve something into the barracks wall with his fingernail.
‘Greyer,’ Moussa said, the humour returning to his voice. ‘I guarantee the hair on our toes is going to be grey.’
‘Whatsit feel like, Spout?’ Matty asked, talking above the rising whispers of our kin. ‘Getting touched by Big Cold.’
I sank against the wall, thinking. ‘I can’t really explain it.’
Matty gave me a pleading look. ‘Can you try?’
I swivelled my head to Moussa, who gave a curious shrug.
I closed my eyes and sighed. I’d never forget the feeling, but it was difficult putting it into words. ‘It was like the Crier himself was lifting me into the night sky. And Great Gale putting her lips right on me.’
Moussa arched an eyebrow. ‘Like you know what a kiss feels like.’
I gave Moussa a playful nudge, making sure not to hit his ribs.
‘I’m going to kiss the Boilweed Girl,’ Matty said.
‘You mean the Upright Girl …?’ I asked, letting the words sink in.
‘Upright how?’ Moussa asked.
I held up my palm and made it straight like a knife, the same way as before.
Moussa paused, his face sinking with a frown. ‘Wait, you don’t think …’
I nodded. ‘I definitely think. She stood the same way. And where do you think she got that Shiver from?’
Matty’s eyes widened, his voice rising. ‘But’chu touched it? Does that mean the Vicaress is going to come after you too? You’re smart and everything, Spout, but you’re prolly not invincible like her.’
‘No.’ I shook my head. ‘But the Upright Girl came to my corner the other day and watched me from the alley. I think she has something to tell me. That may have even been why she chose the Market Quarter.’
Moussa’s face went so dark it practically melted into shadow. ‘That’s a really terrible idea. The Vicaress has got the same holy blood as the Khat. And she’s going to find your Upright Girl soon, and when she does, you won’t want to be anywhere near her.’
‘This girl is different,’ I said, feeling foolish for defending someone I knew nothing about. ‘I can feel it.’
‘Micah, she’s the enemy,’ Moussa said with a snarl. The bars went back up behind his eyes. ‘She’s going to bring bad times for all of us, all for some stupid waste of Cold.’
Before I could speak, Old Man Gum pounded a fist against the wall, right before the chimes went off above our heads. All the conversation ceased immediately, every Jadan falling into perfectly subservient poses: shoulders in, chin down, slight bends at the hip.
Gramble came into the barracks with his rations cart, a look of deep disturbance on his face. I hoped it was just from our talking and nothing more.
‘Barracks forty-five,’ Gramble called out, in a tone of voice that was very much unlike him. ‘There has been a certain disturbance today during the Procession. I am aware that a few of you disobey the rules and sneak out of here at night.’ I tried not to look too guilty. Gramble then waved about a piece of parchment that had a freshly cracked wax seal. ‘This ends tonight. Writ from the Khat himself has it that any Jadan caught out at night will be executed on the spot, and their Barracksmaster will go without pay for a month.’ His eyes were boring into mine now. ‘This sneaking about ends tonight. All of you.’
Gramble went around with his Closed Eye and gave out the evening rations. When it was my turn to declare myself ‘Unworthy’ I did so in a shaky voice, unable to look my Barracksmaster in the face.
‘I told you,’ Moussa said as we broke free from the wall, a grim veil over his eyes. ‘Bad times are ahead.’
Chapter Eight
Metal footsteps clanked in rhythm to the ‘Khat’s Anthem’.
Holy Eyes have long forsaken
Those of Jadankind
But the Khat is made of mercy
For those blind to the Cry
The heavy steps sounded from the distance, their clunking so sharp I knew the shoes must have steel soles. I steadied my voice, doing my best not to draw attention to myself. Unless Jadanmaster Geb had decided to go with an armour theme for his outfit today, then this was someone else stomping down Arch Road.
He keeps us from the darkness
He gives us hope and grace
Long live the Khat and all his sons
Who saved the Jadan race
The anthem finished and Arch Road went silent, but the footsteps carried on in slow progression. I kept my chin tucked in, listening to the scratch of a quill on parchment before each thundering shuffle.
The Sun was scrutinizing everything closely, its rays focused and strong. My corner’s tiny lip of stone was no match for the sky’s flare, and I could feel the moisture beading out of my forehead. I knew every Jadan on their corner would be wondering the same thing: who did these footfalls belong to, and where had our Jadanmaster gone?
The sky seemed eager to lap up our tension.
‘S
pout,’ a smooth voice announced.
I nodded, keeping my head tucked in. ‘Yes, sir.’
There was another rustle of parchment, and a fine pair of leather shoes came into my vision, their bottoms cupped with iron. ‘Peculiar. That’s what the scroll says. But Spout is not a name.’
My chest squeezed with worry. I noted the ease with which this new Nobleman was speaking, as if he already belonged here. ‘My Barracksmaster calls me Spout, sir. So do most of the taskmasters and Nobles who know me.’
‘Look up.’
I hadn’t realized how sweaty I was until I jerked my head up, flinging a big, globby droplet from my forehead, which, thank the World Crier, fell just shy of his fancy shoes.
The Nobleman above gave me a disgusted look from a flat and broad face. Light grey stained the hair at his temples, and a deep scar crossed his face from forehead to ear. He had the look of an assassin from one of the High Houses. His stance was commanding, accentuated by a knotted red rope around his shoulders; and his hand was cupped gracefully around a crisp roll of parchment.
The man scribbled something onto his sheet. ‘Gramble is your Barracksmaster?’
I nodded, the sweat stinging my eyes.
His lips thinned, the scar settling deeper into his face. Stepping back, he announced to the whole street in a booming voice: ‘Ears! I am Jadanmaster Thoth. I am now in charge of the slaves in this Quarter, as Jadanmaster Geb proved to be ineffective. For the next two years, you will be under my supervision. You will receive water and figs at bell three and bell seven. If you miss water because of an errand, then you will receive an extra portion on the following bell. Praise be to the Khat.’
He relaxed his chest, lowering his voice so that only I could hear it. ‘I know that Gramble takes certain lenience with his slaves, but I assure you that I am not as soft-hearted as he.’
‘Yes, sir,’ I said.
‘What is your given name?’
‘Micah, sir.’
Thoth kept his expression firm. ‘Rules six, seven, and eight for a Street Jadan, Micah.’
I didn’t hesitate. Taskmasters had been asking me to recite the rules since I was a scrawny thing, all knees and elbows. ‘Rule number six: a Jadan will do whatever errand their superiors ask, unless it involves the direct harm of another superior. Number seven: a Jadan will be as unobtrusive as possible. Number eight: all forgotten Noble tokens will be handed over to the Jadanmaster at the end of the shift.’
A long pause hung between us, my eyes begging to go back to the street. Staring into Thoth’s severe expression was nearly as unpleasant as getting pinched by a scorpion while trying to extract its venom.
‘Spout. I understand now. Humorous.’ Thoth reached out a finger and swiped it across my forehead, rubbing the sweat in between his fingers. ‘Does this seem unobtrusive to you?’
‘No, sir.’ I pleaded with my forehead to stop this nonsense. ‘I’m sorry, sir.’
Thoth leaned over, blocking the Sun. I’d have thought this would have been a pleasant distraction from the heat, but Thoth’s eyes were nearly as fiery as the sky itself. ‘Irrelevant. You shouldn’t be sorry. Because it shouldn’t be an issue.’ He scratched something onto his parchment without breaking his gaze. ‘Your water rations will be cut in half for the time being. If you have water to waste in sweat, then obviously you have too much water inside you.’
His pronouncement was worse than a dozen lashings, and I felt light-headed at the thought. I made sure not to show my dismay. ‘Thank you, sir.’
Running his tongue across his lips, he carried on down the street without another word.
I was still shaken by the news that Jadanmaster Geb was gone. I couldn’t help but feel responsible. He must have been fired because the Upright Girl had picked our road to waste that Shiver. And although I couldn’t prove it, I couldn’t shake the feeling that she was trying to reach out to me.
Moussa’s words echoed in my mind, and I could feel my fingers aching to wrench into fists. No full water rations, no sneaking out after curfew, and no more Jadanmaster Geb.
Bad times were ahead indeed.
The High Nobleman wrapped his wife in a passionate kiss, stroking his fingers through her yellow hair. When he backed away, a look of forlorn longing had settled on his face. ‘I’ll miss you, darling.’
She slapped him on the chest playfully, right above the Erridian House symbol, her wrist adorned with bracelets of every precious metal known to the World Cried. ‘You can always come in with me, my sweet pomegranate.’
Brushing the back of his well-manicured hand against her cheek, he said: ‘Music is only music when there are spaces between the notes. Take some time to enjoy your own company. I can attest to its wondrous properties.’
She blushed, her light complexion showing off the rosy colour in her cheeks. Two Wisps dangled on gold chains from her ears, each one delicately painted with a silver Closed Eye. These looked like the kind of earrings that Edom’s Adornments sold. I knew from experience that jewellery from Edom’s cost about a hundred times more Cold than the Wisps themselves.
She flicked her hair back and lowered her voice, bringing her lips sensually close to his ear. From my corner, I couldn’t make out what she was saying, but after she nibbled on his earlobe, a blossom of devious excitement ran through his face.
Bell six had just rung out, and I was trying to survive on half rations of water. I felt so thirsty I had half a mind to find one of the boiling waterways, drop to my knees, and guzzle the water straight. I’d been made to drink water in its natural state before, bubbling over with heat, and although I knew the burning would rub my throat raw, it would still be better than the thirst.
‘What would I do without you?’ the bejewelled woman asked as she drifted away, her fingertips lingering on his.
‘You’ll never have to answer that question,’ he said, with a beatific smile. ‘Now go and find something lovely to wear. But don’t judge the garment for its jealousy, for it will never be able to compete with the one whom it gilds.’
My lips felt as if they might crack in half from the slightest movement. The Sun seemed to be funnelling itself straight onto my head, and even with half its normal water in my veins, my forehead was beginning to bead with sweat. I prayed Jadanmaster Thoth wouldn’t come over, or he might take my water rations away completely. Then the only way off my corner would be in a dead-cart.
The Noblewife waved her partner goodbye, gliding down the street and dashing through the oak door to Solomon Weavers, a broad smile etched onto her entire face.
The Nobleman saw her off with a constant wave, and once she was inside he immediately marched over to my corner. I made sure to drop the focus of my peripherals so he didn’t think I was spying.
‘You,’ he commanded in a harsh voice. If I hadn’t seen him walk over to me, I’d have thought it was a completely different person speaking to me now. ‘Slave boy.’
I didn’t hesitate. ‘Yes, sir.’
‘You look ill.’ His tone was rife with disgust. ‘Are you usable?’
‘Quite usable, sir,’ I said, eager to get out of the direct line of the Sun. I felt as if the sky had been nibbling my edges all day, and there wasn’t much time left before I fainted.
‘Fine.’ He snapped his fingers under my nose, directing me to look up.
I found a pampered face, desperate not to show its real age underneath its layers of caked make-up. He looked over his shoulder, making sure the High Noblewoman was still inside, and then adjusted his parasol so it completely blocked the Sun from the side of his face. Reaching into a discreet pocket in the pleats of his sun-shirt, he pulled out a piece of folded parchment. ‘I need you to pick up something heart-shaped and deliver it to this Noblewoman at this address. Knock four times, fast. She’ll know who it’s from, but make sure you tell her to meet in the alley behind Sistrum in the Bathing Quarter just after bell fourteen.’
I nodded. ‘What sort of heart-shaped item, sir?’
He b
ackhanded me before I was ready, sending what little spit I had out of my mouth and cleaning my forehead of sweat.
‘Any heart-shaped item, you dolt.’ The High Nobleman’s powdered face contorted with rage, spittle ruining the perfectly applied gloss on his lips. ‘Any.’
Immediately, metal footsteps clanked my way, their heavy sound throbbing in my ears. Their pace was steady, each footstep thick with authority. ‘Is this slave giving you a problem, sir?’ Jadanmaster Thoth’s voice was controlled and smooth, the perfect match for his gait.
The High Nobleman adjusted his parasol, expression teetering on the brink of outburst. ‘Do you make it a habit of choosing idiotic slaves with which to populate your corners? Are you a sympathizer?’
‘Apologies.’ Thoth gave a slight bow. ‘From what I understand, this slave’s previous Jadanmaster was practically Jadan himself.’
The Nobleman waved a hand emphatically towards the tip of the Pyramid in the distance. ‘No wonder the Procession was such a disaster and the scum hasn’t been caught, if the Khat has incompetent Jadan-lovers running his Quarters.’
At these words, Thoth’s eyes lit with fire, as though the Nobleman was accusing him personally. He composed himself, his words dripping with guile. ‘Not as of today.’
The High Nobleman paused, painting Thoth with a curious look. ‘Very good. Because I need to be able to count on the discretion of these creatures.’
Dipping into something of a bow, the red knots rolled on Thoth’s shoulders. ‘Assurances. Allow me to demonstrate.’ He turned towards me, bending over so he could get a closer look. I could tell his eyes were searching for sweat, but luckily the Nobleman’s blow had dried me up. ‘Micah, tell me the errand which this distinguished High Nobleman has just entrusted you with.’
I gave a small swallow. ‘Yes, sir. The Nobleman wishes for me to—’
I couldn’t finish my sentence, as everything went black.
When I came to, I realized I was sprawled out, one side of my face pounding, pressed against hot stone. The sole of Thoth’s shoe was searing my other cheek, his weight crushing my skull downwards. The steel plate under his heel had absorbed the heat from the Arch Road, and I could feel the Sun living in the metal. I couldn’t help but try to squirm away as the searing spread over my skin, burrowing deep. Thoth pressed harder, bending my nose, and I struggled to breathe. Face on fire, I sucked in a mouthful of street dust and sputtered, trying not to choke on the grains and pebbles.
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