I gave the water a desperate look, my forehead still leaking into my eyes.
Abb reached the top of the nearest dune, turning with a hard look. ‘You can let the Kiln boil your bones for eternity. Or you can drink all that Cold, make it home, and live to change our world. Either way, there’s no turning back.’
Chapter Thirteen
‘Um … Boy?’ a quiet voice asked, followed by the clearing of a throat. ‘Are you crying?’
I swallowed hard, trying to summon the tears back inside my eyes. A pair of gold slippers popped into my vision, their fancy glass buckles purple and perfectly stained. I imagined one shoe alone probably cost more than all the materials I’d need to remake my tinker-wall.
This was most probably a High Noble.
I wiped my face with the back of my hand. ‘No, sir. Just a bit of sweat. My apologies.’
‘Are you alright?’ the Noble asked.
I narrowed my eyes with suspicion. No one asked us if we were alright. In fact, it was usually a habit of theirs to make sure we weren’t. I readied myself for another pink fan incident, feeling comforted at the idea of the salve I had left in the vial under my blanket.
A mug rested in the Nobleboy’s hands, steam rising off the top – an odd choice considering the heat. I smelled honey. Whoever this was, they must have a lot of Cold in their purse.
‘I’m perfectly usable, sir,’ I said.
The mug was lifted to his mouth and he took a sip, smacking his lips. ‘Would you mind looking up?’
I raised my neck to find a boy only a few years older than myself. His blond hair was neat and long, his complexion was milky, and he wore the thinnest, most decadent sun-shirt that I’d ever seen. Gold-rimmed eyeglasses rested on the bridge of his nose, and a jewelled waterskin was slung across his chest.
This was definitely a High Noble.
‘You wouldn’t happen to be Spout, would you?’ he asked, sipping again.
My stomach dropped. Most Nobles never cared to know our names, and it felt safer that way. ‘Yes, sir. But my given name is Micah.’
The boy gave a satisfied nod, eyes shifting back and forth to check if we were alone. ‘Good, because Mama Jana didn’t really give me much of a description.’
An awkward pause sat between us. I cringed on the inside, wondering what might spur Mama Jana to put my name on a High Noble’s lips.
‘Can I call you Spout?’ he asked, sounding almost hopeful. ‘I like Spout. I had it in my head on the way over.’
‘Yes, sir.’
He didn’t seem to be in a rush for an errand, and I was hoping he would hurry up and reveal whatever horrible game he was intending to play. I still had Abb’s story about ‘Obey’ in my mind, and since the dunes, I felt far less patience towards Nobles than before.
‘I’m Camlish by the way. You can call me Cam if you want, though,’ he said. He thrust out an immaculately groomed hand and I grimaced, expecting a strike against my chest. The horrified look in his eyes made me realize this wasn’t his intention. He snatched his hand back, pushing his glasses back up his nose. ‘Are we not supposed to shake hands?’
I’d seen Nobles shaking hands to seal a deal or something like that, but never with a slave. I wasn’t sure if shaking hands violated a Street rule, but I had to assume it was punishable. The Khat wouldn’t want unnecessary contact between a slave and a Noble.
‘I don’t think so, sir,’ I said.
‘Please, no sir. Just Cam is fine.’
I could see him struggling to come up with something to say as he jiggled the mug in his hands. ‘My cousin warned me about drinking Oolong tea. He said the more I’d drink the more I’d need to get out of bed in the morning. Have you ever tried Oolong tea?’
‘No, si— Cam.’
He yawned and then pressed the mug my way. ‘It’s nice. Would you like a sip?’
My eyes nearly fell out of my head at the offer. To my knowledge, no High Noble in the history of Paphos had ever tried to share drinks with a Jadan, so I knew I had to be ready for whatever maliciousness this boy was planning. I would have guessed the drink was poisoned with something to make me vomit had he not been swallowing it himself.
‘That’s not allowed, sir,’ I said. ‘Praise be to the Khat.’
Cam snorted. ‘Praise be to the Khat indeed.’ He looked at me from head to toe. ‘So how do you know Mama Jana?’ he asked, conversationally, as though he actually cared.
This was becoming a very unsettling conversation, one I was keen to end quickly.
‘Is there an errand you need help with, Cam?’ As soon as the words left my lips, I realized I could be beaten for the insolent tone. Before the Draft and Abb’s bucket I’d have never dreamed of talking that way to a High Noble, but the words had slipped out on their own. Yet Cam only gave a satisfied smile, as if he’d been hoping for a reaction.
‘Sure,’ he said, casually, pushing the glasses back up his nose. ‘I guess that would be the proper way to do this.’
‘What’s the errand?’ I asked carefully.
Cam clacked his teeth as he collected his thoughts. ‘Nothing in particular. I planned to go to the Apothecary. Would you like to come with me?’
Heat flushed my face at the question. ‘Jadankind is here to serve Noblekind. I am required by the Khat’s law to help you with any errand.’
Cam looked a bit disappointed. ‘Well, let’s do that then.’
I held out my hand for a token, but he met my palm with a look of curiosity until he unslung his waterskin and held it out to me. ‘Would you like some water? There’s a few Wisps already in it. You can drink it all if you want.’
I swallowed hard. ‘Please,’ I said, confused at whether this High Noble was acting dumb, or simply had the same mental affliction as Old Man Gum. ‘Your House crest.’
‘Ah, of course.’ Cam took the waterskin back, and reached into his pocket to reveal a coin that made this whole situation all the more bizarre.
House Tavor.
The Tavors were the closest family to royalty outside the Pyramid. They weren’t as wealthy as the Erridians, or as well connected as the Drylads, but Lord Tavor was said to be the Khat’s choice for successor should he die without a proper heir.
Cam wasn’t just High Noble.
He was the highest of High Nobles.
Looking at the coin in my palm, I let my body slump further, wondering what Mama Jana had got me involved in. This had the appearance of some cruel test Thoth might arrange, yet Cam seemed strangely … genuine.
Cam smiled warmly. ‘Shall we?’
The door triggered a deep gong that was followed by a series of reedy buzzes that descended in pitch, filling the air with a long seductive ringing, like a wet finger circling glass. I stepped inside the Apothecary.
I followed Cam across the threshold, and my eyes found the small contraption near the door responsible for the sounds. A nearly invisible chain connected the door to the squat box, which was branded with Ancient symbols and forged from a dark wood that looked too thick and healthy to have grown in this world. I ached to see its inner workings.
The shop was painted dark, and the nearest shelves to the door were filled with vials of liquids and jars of powders, arranged by colour. Each ingredient had line after line of indecipherable descriptions. Golden statues were scattered about the place; gilded creatures, extinct since the Great Drought, like cats and gazelles. A stout metal jackal sat sentry in front of a crate of scrolls, each impressively sealed with the Khat’s wax sigil. I saw Dream Webs and Gale-Catchers hanging up near the ceiling, waiting to filter the air.
A pair of double doors swung open from the back, a thin mist rising from the darkness behind. A few more gongs rang from among the shelves before the shopkeeper swept out of the doors, his silver-gloved hands hiding his face. His whole body was draped in patterned silk, robes flowing down past his knees and sweeping along the floor. Capping off the outfit was a headscarf, emboldened with a Closed Eye so vividly stitched it seemed t
o jump off the black material.
‘Welcome, travellers, to the Mind’s Bazaar.’ The shopkeeper’s voice dripped like honey. He reached into his pockets and tossed out powders that glittered through the air, shining against the mist in a dazzling cloud. ‘The only place in Paphos where the Sun can be banished, where you might taste the ether, and miracles rain like Cold in the Patches, and—’
The shopkeeper stopped mid-flourish, confusion painting itself over his moustached face. ‘Young master Tavor,’ he said. His tone had turned nasal and slightly annoyed. ‘Are you aware that there is a slave behind you?’
Cam nodded, and even from behind I could tell he was rolling his eyes. ‘A Jadan.’
‘You never bring slaves,’ the shopkeeper said. ‘I didn’t think you practised the Decree of Unworthiness.’
The Decree of Unworthiness stated that it wasn’t just enough to call Jadans unworthy, but rather it was every Noble’s duty to reinforce our degradation. The doctrine justified all kinds of cruelty, and was the reason why so many Nobles wore Closed Eyes out in public. It was also why games like ‘Obey’ would always plague our kind.
Cam’s shoulders stiffened. ‘Of course I do. I’m not going against the Khat’s wishes, I just like to run my own errands if I’m honest.’
I tried not to cough from the powder drifting into my lungs.
The shopkeeper looked truly puzzled. ‘So why the slave—’
‘The Jadan has a name,’ Cam said, annoyed. ‘Micah. You don’t need to keep calling him a slave.’
The shopkeeper bowed, but his gaze remained sceptical beneath his bushy eyebrows. ‘Very well. What are you and, ah, Micah looking for today?’
The air inside was cooler than in most shops, and I hoped Cam would draw out the transaction for as long as possible. As they were talking, I had surveyed the room, taking in all the wondrous things it contained: the sarcophagus that was being used to grow blue moss, the boulder that had been split in half to reveal a belly full of crystal, and the little red eyes glaring out from small cages near the back of the shop.
‘I didn’t feel any different after the glow cream,’ Cam said, giving me a quick glance and lowering his voice. ‘Six times a day and it’s made no difference.’
The shopkeeper gave an understanding nod, calm and collected. ‘Alchemy isn’t an immediate magic, young master Tavor. It’s subtle and mysterious, and can take many months, nay years, for it to show any sign of it—’
Cam took the purse from his hip and shook it, encouraging the distinct sound of large Cold knocking together. ‘Do you have anything quicker than subtle and mysterious?’
The shopkeeper eyed the purse, his eyes hungry. ‘Ah, well, there are some things. Some quicker potions that might have the desired effects. If instead of common scarab we use the powdered bradford beetle from deep in the Glasslands, and add just a dash of—’
Cam held up his hand. ‘That sounds good to me, Lasah. You know I’ll take it.’
Lasah sized up the purse. ‘It’s quite expensive. There is also, and this is most unfortunate, a Jadan-cleaning fee, since I’ll have to scrub the floor where he is standing. I never thought to bring it up before—’
Cam’s sigh cut him short. ‘Have I ever turned you down before?’
Lasah bowed again, the long silk sleeves of his robe brushing the polished ground. ‘Please just keep your sl— Micah – close to the door. Jadan essence can be toxic for my ingredients.’
I sneaked a look at my feet, grimacing at the sand I’d dragged in, but Cam winked at me, putting his hand on my shoulder. ‘We won’t move.’
The shopkeeper hopped around the room, picking vials off shelves and uncorking them, testing their freshness. Or perhaps testing for the opposite. I couldn’t imagine the skills that the job required. The rubbish heaps I plundered were never successful in teaching me what was safe and what might turn me into a raving lunatic with one sniff.
Cam yawned again, finishing up the last of his drink. ‘And more Oolong tea as well, please, Lasah. No rush, just when you get a chance.’
Lasah was dumping a white crystalline power into a mixing bowl. ‘Of course. For you, tea is on the house.’
Cam tapped his foot as he turned to me. ‘So, Spout,’ he said, ‘do you like music?’
I tried not to let my face go slack. Jadans weren’t encouraged to like anything. Either this High Nobleboy was so sheltered that he didn’t understand a Jadan’s place, or he was toying with me.
I gave a polite nod, keeping my eyes pinned to Lasah’s work.
Cam’s ears perked up. ‘Great! What kind of music?’
‘The “Khat’s Anthem”,’ I said without pause.
‘Yeah, the “Khat’s Anthem” is fine.’ I could hear a groan in Cam’s words. ‘What else though?’
I kept my eyes down, not knowing what to say. Matty, Moussa and I made up music together all the time – or rather, we used to – and I listened to what escaped from the Imbiberies when I went out at night, but most Noble music was foreign to me.
‘What about Mirrlah City songs?’ Cam asked, hopeful. ‘Or the most recent Belisk court jesters’ stuff? Or the hymns from the northern nomads – the ones who travelled back from the Great Divide? Have you heard them yet?’
I shook my head. ‘I don’t know that music.’
Cam sucked his cheek. ‘Well, I suppose that makes sense.’
We both fell silent, the only sound being Lasah grinding his mortar and pestle.
‘So, Mama Jana told me you’re very smart.’ he said.
‘Smart, sir?’
‘Cam, not sir,’ he corrected and stuck the empty mug in his pocket. ‘And yes, she told me you were … unusually smart.’
‘We’re not allowed to be smart,’ I said, wishing desperately that he would just wait quietly and leave me alone. ‘We’re only supposed to serve the Khat and his chosen.’
Cam sighed, lowering his voice. ‘Well, that’s not what she told me.’
Lasah peeked over his mixing bowl, looking just as confused as I did.
‘Do you have a girlfriend?’ Cam asked.
My face flushed so deeply I knew it would be visible even against my dark skin. ‘No. We’re not really allowed that either. The Birth Barracks—’
Cam gave me a playful punch. ‘Don’t worry. I’m not judging. I don’t either. That’s why I’m here. But Lasah said the glow cream is supposed to get rid of all imperfections.’ Cam pointed to a few red spots on his face, the kind that only showed up on light Noble complexions. ‘I know it’s shallow, but I feel them all the time.’
I was too stunned to speak. Cam was talking to me like an equal, like a friend even. Surely a group of taskmasters must be waiting behind the cabinets, whips in their hands, ready to punish me any minute now for believing in the kindness of a High Noble?
I nodded, keeping my eyes lowered.
Lasah tipped the cream into a jar, screwing on a lid and tying it up with a thin strip of boilweed. The shopkeeper swept back across the room, past a board pinned with dead insects – some as large as my fist – and around a table stocked with the skulls of small animals. He stopped at the statue of the jackal and lifted the head back, revealing a secret store of green leaves in its neck. Taking a scoop, he portioned out a bit into a small bag and tied it with a red ribbon.
‘Here you are, young master Tavor. Oolong tea. Enchanting Glow Cream,’ Lasah eyed Cam’s Cold purse again as he pressed the jar and bag into Cam’s hands, ‘which is very potent, much more so than the last. One application a day should do it.’
Cam emptied the purse onto the nearest table, spilling a Shiver, two Drafts, and a handful of Wisps. The shopkeeper looked dismayed at the fortune.
‘Master Camlish, this isn’t quite enough,’ Lasah said by way of gentle chiding. ‘For the Enchanting I used a pinch of grainlick, and essence of tear-berry, an—’
‘Ah, I see. How much do I owe you? Can I bring you the rest of the Cold tomorrow?’ Cam asked. ‘You know my family is go
od for it.’
He wasn’t lying. From what I knew, the Tavors had enough Cold to buy a hundred of these apothecaries.
Lasah gave a respectful bow, and as he dipped, he shifted the Closed Eye on his forehead to point it in my direction. ‘Four more Drafts should do it. And that will also cover the cleaning fee.’
Cam swept aside some of the mist that had risen to eye level, and beckoned to me to leave.
‘Oh,’ Lasah called from behind us, ‘and if you send a slave to bring the Cold, make sure it knows to stay at the entrance and not to come in! The Mind’s Bazaar is a delicate oasis in the—’
Cam shut the door behind us, trapping all the Cold air back inside. He pocketed the jar and the bag of tea, and then looked back and forth, as if pondering something important. Then, looking at me with a sincere shrug, he took a left and started walking.
I lagged behind him by four or five paces, trying to decipher what might be going on in his High Noble head. My body growled from the quick swap of blessed air to harsh Sunlight.
Cam peeked over his shoulder with a smile before he began jogging. Hesitantly, I did the same, but his longer legs allowed him to go much faster than I could. I was also worried I might crash into another Noble. Cam then waited for me, putting a hand around my shoulder to stop me.
‘You’re not a camel,’ he said. ‘Walk beside me?’
I was suddenly aware of how wonderful Cam smelled. There would most likely be a beating when the Nobleboy realized I’d tainted him with my Jadan stink.
I awkwardly fell in with his stride as we went forward, knowing this proximity would draw unwanted attention from passers-by. I made sure to hold up his Tavor coin as high as I could to show that I was just doing as I was commanded.
‘So,’ Cam let me go and clapped his hands together, ‘you must know these streets better than I do, Spout. Where would you buy chocolate? It’s my favourite thing, but I don’t know where the best places to get it are.’
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