I was suddenly released, strong arms bringing me back to my feet and setting me in place. Instinct told me to bring a hand to my cheek to nurse the fresh sting, but from the look in Thoth’s eyes, I could tell that this instinct would have had me killed.
Thoth placed his rod under my chin and tilted it up. ‘Jadanmaster Geb may have allowed you to discuss your errands, but Jadanmaster Thoth expects complete and utter secrecy. Do you understand?’
I nodded, the burn blossoming across my cheek into a deep swell. ‘Yes, sir.’
Thoth nodded, a sanguine grin spreading across his face. ‘Micah, tell me about the errand this High Nobleman has entrusted you with.’
My stomach clenched. ‘I’m sorry, sir, I can’t.’
Thoth gave another satisfied nod, and then jammed the butt of his rod into my stomach, jerking the air clean from my lungs. I could feel eyes on surrounding corners being drawn to my oomph.
‘Tell me,’ Thoth said. ‘Or you get another one.’
I caught my breath, knowing this was all for show. Thoth had been waiting for an opportunity to make an example of someone on Arch Road, to prove his rule, and I just had to ride it out. ‘I’m sorry, sir, but I—’
The rod came harder this time, and I gasped for air.
‘Micah,’ Thoth said calmly. ‘Tell me what errand you have been—’
The High Nobleman stepped in, holding out a hand. ‘I get it. Lovely display. Normally I’m one to relish these little larks’ – he gave a nervous look over his shoulder – ‘but I’m afraid I must have this errand in motion. My appreciation, Jadanmaster, for proving your worth. You are no sympathizer, and I allow you to take your leave with honour.’
Thoth bowed, making sure to cast his gaze over the watching Jadans on the corners. ‘My pleasure.’ He then gave me a final look, his eyes ablaze, before marching away, his footsteps echoing from the fronts of the nearby shops.
The High Nobleman’s eyes again went to the door of Solomon Weavers, and he was quick to produce a bag of Cold and a Noble token, which he hurried to hand over.
‘Fast and quick, you little piece of dung,’ the High Nobleman said, shooing me off my corner just as his wife appeared in the background.
Half out of the door, her hand waved frantically. ‘Come quick, Ulyssipher, my love. You simply must see this sun-dress. On sale for a Shiver and three Drafts!’
In the time it took for the words to reach our ears, the High Nobleman’s face had softened immensely. He looked as passive and innocent as a child, his expression full of wonder as he hoisted his large Cold-purse back over his shoulder, hustling down the street. ‘Coming right now, my sweet mulberry!’
I darted to the nearest alleyway to scrape the sand from my tongue. After a few gritty passes with my fingernails, I realized something else had sneaked into my mouth during my desperate breath; something soft, now pressing against my upper gums. Trying not to think of the agonizing pain in my cheek, I fished up and found a tiny flower petal, one from the Roses of Gilead.
The Domestics must have missed it after the Procession.
The petal would have sat near my corner, bright red, yet undetected. Small and fragile, certainly the runt of the basket, it had been flung towards me by a burst of Cold that never should have happened.
I knew the Crier didn’t get involved with my kind, so the petal couldn’t have been any kind of sign, but looking at it sent my mind to the Upright Girl’s crazy posture, and then to my Cold Wrap, gears turning in my head. If the girl hadn’t been caught after wasting that much Cold, why was I so scared of my three little Wisps?
By the time I’d reached Mama Jana’s, the burn on my cheek had taken shape.
I ran my fingers over the tender spot, feeling the raised skin, but it wasn’t until I sneaked a look at my reflection in her shop window that I realized I’d been branded. The Closed Eye had been inscribed in the metal on the bottom of Thoth’s shoe, and it was now imprinted on my cheek.
The burn was superficial, and I knew it would clear with some rest and salve, but I felt violated. I ran a hand over the spot and felt tears welling in my eyes, desperately missing Jadanmaster Geb.
What had become of him? Kindness towards Jadans seemed less and less welcome in the World Cried, and I worried that Mama Jana might be next to fall. A part of me was scared to grab the handle to the shop door because I might find it locked, its owner having been dragged off to the dark pit the Vicaress reserved for her enemies.
I was just about to open it when something caught my eye on one of the alley’s walls.
I looked around, checking there weren’t any taskmasters nearby, and then ducked into the shadows. I had to blink a few times to adjust my eyes, but even after things became clearer, I still couldn’t understand what I was seeing.
Someone had crafted a symbol on the wall in green paint. I stepped close enough to smell the brick, and traced the air above it with my fingertips, careful not to smudge the design.
An ‘Opened Eye’.
It looked like the raised skin on my cheek, but in the centre, instead of a shut lid, the eye was wide open.
I stepped forward and examined the smears of green, my heart in my throat. The discovery filled me with a dark terror, and not just because graffiti was illegal in Paphos. Without knowing exactly what an Opened Eye meant, I had a feeling it was probably worse than waving two knuckles to the sky.
I decided it was best not to linger.
I skittered back to the front of the shop and pulled open the door, to be greeted by a puff of air so Cold it made the pain in my cheek disappear.
Mama Jana waved me in, as she finished stowing her new Cold. I sometimes wished the levers and teeth of her lockbox would break so she might ask me to fix it, but as it was, she spun the dials, and the latches pulled together with a satisfied click.
Mama Jana breathed the air deeply with a bright smile. ‘Thanks to you, dear boy,’ she said, tapping her fingernails on the glass, ‘my home is once again breathable.’
‘Don’t mention it,’ I said, trying to match her smile.
Mama Jana pointed to the Cold Bellows, displayed proudly on a nearby table. ‘I swear that thing is now giving me twice the Cold at half the twists. Whatever changes you made, I wish you could do it to the world itself.’
‘Mama Jana,’ I said, as politely as I could, even though the question was burning a hole through my pocket, ‘may I ask you something?’
She gave a roll of her wizened eyes. ‘Some Noblewoman short you again? What do you need and how much you got in that purse? I swear, my kin are getting more miserly by the week.’
‘I need something shaped like a heart,’ I said. ‘And I was given six Drafts. But that’s not what I meant.’
Mama Jana was out from behind her counter almost before I could finish my sentence, sweeping past her impressive display of parasols. ‘Heart-shaped, eh? What kind of item?’
I remembered the Nobleman’s backhand against my face as I said, ‘Any item, please.’
She moved towards her stack of jewellery boxes, but looked at me with a double-take. ‘What’s that on your cheek, Spout?’
I covered the burn with my hand. ‘Nothing. Nothing but the Sun. I’m fine.’
‘I know I’m not outside much, but I didn’t think the Sun had that much bite.’
I quickly pulled together a lie. ‘Well, sometimes—’
‘I won’t press,’ she said with a shrug, cutting me off. ‘What is it you wanted to ask, child?’
I cleared my throat. ‘Did you see what was painted in the alley next to your shop?’
Mama Jana made a face I couldn’t read. ‘Unfortunately, yes. First the Procession, and now those symbols shooting up around the streets. It’s like there’s something in the air!’
‘If you don’t mind my asking …’ I tried to keep my voice calm. ‘What does it mean?’
‘I have no clue,’ she replied. A tic was beating in her cheek. ‘But I’ve already sent word for cleaners. It should be
scrubbed off by the next bell.’ She then turned to drag her hands along the stacks of boxes, and lifted one out that was perfectly heart-shaped, studded with fine crystals.
She smiled, her eyes searching my face for something. ‘Just in luck. Six Drafts on the nose.’
I gave a grateful bow after making the exchange. ‘You never cease to amaze with your goods, Mama Jana – or your kindness.’
She bit her bottom lip, almost as if debating something but she let it go with a sigh. She looked older than ever today. ‘Come back soon, Spout.’ Her gaze didn’t waver. ‘I’m sure a piece of my home is likely to break any day now.’
‘I will,’ I said, bowing again and shuffling backwards.
As I was leaving, I turned to wave at her, but she didn’t see me, as she rooted for something underneath the counter: a jar. I could have sworn its lid was the same colour green as the Opened Eye, and she stuffed it deep under a pile of sun-dresses.
Chapter Nine
The puffiness over my father’s eye was slowing the game down considerably. I’d offered him some of my salve but he’d refused to take any. For a Healer, he was remarkably stubborn about not numbing his own pain.
Abb picked a card from the pile. ‘You’re normally better than this, Little Builder.’
I fanned out the backs of my cards, proving how many I’d collected. ‘I’m winning, Old Builder.’
‘Not at Conquer,’ Abb said with a smirk. ‘You’re normally better at hiding things.’
My eyes flicked to the spot where I’d buried the Wisps, but the patch of ground seemed undisturbed. I drew a new card, painted with the plump face of Khat Horem VI, who was known for bleaching his skin bone white. ‘I don’t know how anyone besides you or me would find them,’ I said.
Abb selected a card, bobbed his head from side to side, and then flung it at my face. The card flew sideways, coming fast at me, and I ducked out of the way enough to only catch a glance on the ear.
‘That bad a hand, huh?’ I asked with a chuckle after recovering. ‘We could always play Match. No skill required there. You might even stand a chance.’
Abb pointed to my cards, now splayed in front of him where he could see most of them. My face dropped and I flipped them back over, but it was too late.
‘See,’ Abb said, his face smug. ‘Not so good at hiding things.’
‘Not when you play dirty.’
Abb shifted so he could show me the bottoms of his blackened feet, stained with oil and mud. ‘Us Jadans don’t have much choice.’
I sighed, changing the order of the cards in my hand. I picked out the River Singe card and flicked it down between us, placing it under his Khat Luddit III. ‘Here. Wash yourself.’
Abb raised his eyebrow. ‘You actually playing that? Or is it just a joke?’
I shrugged, a smile on my lips. ‘You tell me.’
Abb gave a flourish with his hand. ‘I’ve taught you too well. Now what are you hiding?’
I paused, pretending to shift my cards. ‘Nothing.’
‘That’s one heavy piece of nothing.’
I gave a one-armed shrug, rubbing my belly. ‘I think maybe Gramble gave my bad figs this morning. That’s all. Now are we going to play?’
Abb raised the eyebrow over his good eye. ‘Come on, Spout, give your old man something.’
I flipped a card from my hand. ‘Need a Cry Temple? I’ve got North and East.’
Abb chuckled. ‘You little scoundrel.’
‘If I am, it’s your fault.’ I shrugged and turned the card back. ‘Raising a kid takes practice. Maybe you’ll get the hang of it one day.’
‘I didn’t have you from the start, so it doesn’t count.’ Abb gently folded his cards into a pile, his gaze following the beams of starlight back up to the ceiling. ‘Now talk to me. See, I won’t even look.’
I let a long pause sit between us. ‘You’ll think I’m crazy.’
My father’s voice was gentle. ‘I already do. In a good way. Now spill.’
I sighed, trying to figure out why I was having such a hard time talking. ‘It was my Shiver. The one the Jadan girl destroyed.’
Abb nodded, a contemplative look on his face. ‘I see. Where’d you find it?’ he asked.
I paused, trying to shake the words loose. ‘The Blacksmith Quarter. In the boilweed piles. I pulled it out with my Claw Staff, and held it for a few moments, deciding whether I should keep it or not.’
‘And so you didn’t.’
‘I didn’t. I put it back on the pile, but when I turned around, she was there watching. She ran away, but she must have come back later.’
‘Let me do some fatherly deduction here.’ He tapped his bottom lip. ‘You think you’re the reason she tossed the Shiver. And in doing so, you think you’ve angered the World Crier and got your Jadanmaster fired, and brought down this new Jadanmaster who gives you half the water and twice the beatings. And – again this is just a guess – you’re assuming it was a punishment for your temptation, and that you should probably stop tinkering just to be safe.’
I nodded, a lump in my throat. As always, he was spot on. ‘Yes. That’s exactly what I think.’
Abb didn’t even look up from his hand. ‘Well, you’re wrong.’
I set mine on the pile. ‘What do you mean, “wrong”? How can you just dismiss it? Just look at your eye. All the taskmasters in Paphos are now making a point, trying to get us in line. What if it’s my fault?’
Abb levelled his eyes to mine. His face was impossibly calm. ‘It’s not.’
I felt a fire burning in my chest. ‘You don’t have any proof of that.’
Abb flipped over my cards and started helping himself to all of the hourglasses. ‘You think you’re the first Jadan to think like that? That the Crier singled you out? That you’re responsible for all the pain around you?’
I suddenly felt very young and naïve. ‘No.’
Abb whistled, holding up one of my cards in triumph. ‘Ah, so you’ve been hoarding the Glassland Glazier this whole time. No wonder you were winning.’
‘Can you be serious for a second, I—’
‘The Nobles hold up a Closed Eye for a reason.’ Abb gestured to the bottom of my tinker-wall. ‘Speaking of … I see you know about its opposite.’
I went stiff.
‘The Opened Eye,’ Abb clarified. ‘The one you carved into that piece of wood.’
Once again I was silenced at his words. How did he know about the secret carving I’d done the night before? Even though I knew it was an incredibly needless risk, I hadn’t been able to help myself. I’d taken my chisel and done all the work outside, smuggling it back in under my shirt when he was asleep. And I’d made sure to hide it at the back of the bottom shelf. I lowered my voice, all too aware of the curiosity in my tone.
‘Your turn to spill then,’ I said quietly. ‘Does the symbol mean what I think it means?’
‘What do you think it means?’
I paused, speaking almost in a whisper. ‘Worthy.’
Abb rifled through his cards, eventually picking out the single Crier card in the deck. It was forbidden to draw any image of the Creator, so I’d settled for doodling a Frost to represent him.
‘What do you know about Langria?’ Abb asked.
‘Same as everyone else,’ I said with a shrug. It was a children’s tale, passed down through the generations amongst Jadans despite being frowned upon in the Khatdom. ‘The land as North as North goes, where everything is green and alive, as it was before the Drought, and Jadans are free.’ I tried to steal my cards back from his hand, but Abb gave a masterful dodge. ‘It isn’t real though, is it?’
Abb licked his dry lips. ‘If it’s not real, then why is it kept quiet?’
I paused, not having thought about it like that before.
‘Get your carving,’ Abb said with a gesture to my tinker-wall.
I dug the wooden piece from beneath my useless Dream Webs, blowing out the sand before handing the carving over.
&
nbsp; ‘Okay.’ Abb settled it at his side, wiggling the Crier-Frost card instead. ‘In the beginning, the Crier was feeling lonely, and with his first tear he created the World. The second, the Jadan people.’
‘Yes.’ I gave a teasing smile. ‘That’s what happened.’
‘And the lands were green and healthy,’ Abb said, ignoring my tone. ‘And animals roamed, fruit grew and music played.’
‘Yes,’ I said, although Abb sounded so sentimental I decided not to tease him.
He fished around for a card, finding the one painted the colour of fire and sat it next to the Crier. ‘And from deep in the black, Sun saw what his Brother had done, and he got jealous. Sun tried to do the same, to create something beautiful, but every time he tried Crying something into existence, it dried up. So, after failing over and over, Sun decided to ruin the World. Every day he showed up and burned away what he could. The Crier, not able to banish his older Brother back to the eternal black, decided to create Cold instead. And Cold fell from the sky every night and broke over the mountains, and cooled the boiling seas, and turned sand into soil, and the land itself survived.’
I couldn’t help it. ‘Yes, Dad. I know the story.’
‘Indulge me,’ Abb said. ‘Or do you already know everything about everything, oh wise Inventor?’
My cheeks flushing, I let him go on.
‘And cities grew, and wonderful things were discovered, the unknown was tamed. And for a long while, the Jadan people were happy. They fell in love and made music, and they lived in peace with nature, and—’
‘And then eventually came the Great Drought,’ I said, moving him along.
Abb shook his head with a sigh. ‘Brilliant mind, no patience. Anyway, yes, the Great Drought. The Jadans angered the Crier with their sins, and Cold stopped falling everywhere except the Patches of the first Khat. Most of the land died, we became slaves, and the Khat and those closest to him became Nobles. Brief enough for you?’
Coldmaker Page 8