‘A thousand apologies, Master Leroi!’ another said. ‘Samsiah was on an errand and didn’t make it back. The taskmasters commanded us to—’
‘The Manor Healer couldn’t—’
‘—the anklet took it clean off—’
‘—found him calling out from the sands.’
‘Please help him, sir. He’s a good slave, and he only—’
‘Take him downstairs!’ Leroi broke through. ‘Hurry! Now. Find a clean table.’
The voices did as he commanded. Shilah and I exchanged a worried glance. As they approached, we could see feet through the cracks in the grate, and some blood dripping, leaving a thick trail on the floor.
There was a crash of glass smashing as Leroi brushed everything off the worktop. As the feet drew nearer the grate, we could see how dirty they were. They all had thick metal cuffs around their ankles, with a large bubble shape on the sides. Shilah’s expression was impassive, but she grabbed my arm, digging in tight. Her other hand went to her braid, although I didn’t think she kept a blade in there any more.
‘How long?’ Leroi asked. ‘Speak, please. Don’t be afraid.’
‘Less than a bell,’ a voice squeaked in reply. ‘Please, can you help him, Master Leroi?’
‘Just Leroi,’ the Tinkerer said. I heard him rifling through the shelves, his voice small. ‘No master.’
‘The bleeding’s not stopping. We tried to stitch it—’
‘Pinion’s acid will eat through stitches,’ Leroi muttered in reply, seemingly mostly to himself. ‘It won’t work.’
Leroi had never mentioned Pinion’s acid in our lessons. I looked at Shilah, but her eyes were stony and remained focused on the grate.
‘What can we do to help, sir?’ one of the voices asked.
‘Get the boilweed off the foot.’
Leroi gave an audible wince. ‘It’s all gone. The whole foot.’
‘We tried to get him here as quickly as we could, sir. I’m sorry.’
A bottle popped and I saw some clear liquid drip to the floor. There was no reaction above, however, and I imagined that the body was no longer conscious. ‘Sundamnit!’ Leroi shouted.
I heard several sharp intakes of breath in the tinkershop.
‘Sorry.’ Leroi made a noise that sounded like a howl. ‘I’m sorry. I just— Hold him down. I have to cauterize.’
Even our cubby-hole lit up as a flame was sparked to heat up the iron. I wanted to retch at the idea of what Leroi was about to do.
‘Put this in his mouth,’ Leroi commanded. ‘In case he bites down.’
Leroi took a breath and the iron was brought to the flesh. The sizzle made me shudder. It was followed by an astounding sickly smell, which reached us all the way under the grate. I couldn’t help myself as I let out a gag.
Shilah’s grip became even tighter, her face panic-stricken. One of the Jadans followed the sound of my retch towards the grate.
‘Focus!’ Leroi demanded. ‘Look here. Hold him down.’
The hisses and sputters subsided, but the putrid smell kept attacking us. Shilah wrapped a hand around my cheek, trying to pull my face away and into her neck to hide me from the smell, but I felt compelled to watch, struggling to keep my head afloat and the gags down.
No wonder Leroi hadn’t wanted to tell me about the anklets.
Leroi’s feet moved around the table, I presumed to check the body’s heartbeat. ‘He’s going to be okay. He lost a lot of blood, but he’s going to live. Now, please would one of you go grab some Cold from that bucket over there, and there’s a waterskin on my—’
Leroi stopped himself. All the Jadans dropped to their knees simultaneously.
A tapping rang out from the direction of the main door, as a cane slowly made its way down the stairs. When it came into view, I saw that the cane was made of stained glass, and the legs that walked beside it were adorned in fine silk. The feet moved slowly, each step ringing a deep thud in the tinkershop.
‘Cousin,’ Leroi said, his voice coated in regret. ‘Is this what you wanted? Is this why you had me create them? You were supposed to have a turn-key with each of the taskmasters. You told me …’
There was no reply, just a slight rap as the cane was rested against the table.
‘He’s going to live,’ Leroi said, unable to get the words out fast enough. ‘They brought him here in time! These Jadans should get triple rations for their service.’
I could now feel a wet hot pain on my arm, where Shilah had pierced my skin with her fingernails.
‘I’ll build him a new foot,’ Leroi said, his words coming out even faster. ‘I can attach a brace to the knee and run it down to— Cousin, just hold on a minute. He’ll still be able to serve you. Please, just wait. I can make him— Cousin, please. I beg you, just—’
A voice, which sounded like Cam’s but older, cut across him. ‘You’ve brought this on yourself, Leroi. You should have kept her on a tighter leash.’
‘Please let go,’ Leroi implored. ‘Please. I can fix him. I can—’
Fast, strangled breaths came from the table, until they eventually culminated in a final, juddering gasp. Silence then resumed. After a few moments of stillness, the feet I was now certain belonged to Lord Tavor stepped back from the table. No other word was spoken. The High Noble picked up his decorative cane and began tapping his way back to the stairs.
The door creaked open, but wasn’t immediately closed. ‘Oh, and, Leroi,’ Lord Tavor said, ‘I see you’ve been tinkering again.’
A tense pause followed. ‘Yes.’
‘Is there a reason?’ he asked, voice smooth and calm.
‘It was time. I’ve mourned.’
‘Good for you. Would you like a new assistant? I’m sure my son would be glad to find you one.’
My face flushed deeply at his words. Lord Tavor couldn’t know we were here. Could he?
‘No,’ Leroi choked out.
‘Because you can have one, now that we have these anklets you so lovingly bestowed.’
‘No,’ Leroi practically sobbed.
‘The kitchens tell me you’ve been requesting more food. Eating more than usual, have you? Where have you been packing it away?’
‘I need my strength,’ Leroi said, sounding like his teeth were clenched. ‘Those anklets took a lot out of me.’
The door creaked open again.
‘Then I’ll have the kitchens send you a whole roast,’ Lord Tavor said. ‘Because I expect you to make another anklet to replace the one this slave lost. I’ll send someone to pick it up in a few days.’
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Shilah put her hands on the table without any fear or hesitation. ‘Here.’
I backed away. ‘I don’t think so.’
She leaned forward, putting her weight on the wood. ‘If we’re going to talk about important things,’ Shilah said, her dark skin blending with the table. ‘This is where we’ll do it.’
I looked at the table, now spotless. While Shilah and I were hiding under the grate, the three Jadans had cleaned the place and then taken the lifeless body out to the sands. Now, the table resembled a workspace like any other.
I kept my distance. ‘I don’t think I’ll be able to concentrate on—’
She let herself relax away from the table, the saddest smile I’d ever seen weighing down her face. ‘Where better?’
I paused. ‘Literally anywhere.’
Her hands clenched into fists, and once again I saw that fierce anger breathe its life inside her. ‘This is everything that’s wrong with the World Cried. We need to look the problem in the face, Micah. Here.’
I gave a resigned nod, my own anger still rising in my chest. We hadn’t been able to talk to Leroi about the anklets, since after Lord Tavor had left, he’d locked himself back in his study, and wouldn’t come to the door when we called for him.
Shilah pulled up two chairs, setting them across from each other, and we each sat down. After a few moments of uncomfortable staring, I grew
fidgety, while Shilah kept straight and still.
‘I’ll make you a deal, partner,’ she said in a simple voice, her hands laid flat on the table.
I tilted my head. ‘Okay?’
‘I admire you, I hope you know that. The way your mind thinks is different. Trying to end the Drought by flying up to collect Cold from the source is a good idea.’
I felt my cheeks flush with heat. ‘Thanks. And I admire you as—’
‘But I also think you’re being an idiot again.’
I stiffened, stung by her words. ‘I don’t think—’
She held up her hand. ‘Let me make you my deal.’
I clenched my teeth, and nodded.
‘One week. I’ll stay here with you for one week, and I’ll help in any way you need. If you’re not any closer to your plan, we go with mine.’ She gestured to the buckets of Cold sitting on the shelf nearby and then tapped the tattoo on her arm. ‘We take as much Cold as we can carry, and we go north to find Langria.’
I paused, feeling moisture spout on my forehead. ‘But it’s going to take me more than a week.’
‘You saw what happened.’ She knocked on the table. ‘This place isn’t safe for us.’
‘But the Cold Charge—’
She waved her hand dismissively. ‘—Blowing out candles from across the room is a neat trick, but it doesn’t help anything. It’s not what we need.’
The words made my heart squeeze. ‘What did you say?’
‘It’s not what the Jadans need,’ Shilah repeated, resolutely. ‘It’s not what I need.’
I took a deep breath, trying not to think yet again about my father. ‘What do Jadans need?’
She closed her eyes, sliding her fingers along the surface of the table. I wondered if there was a residual warmth left by the body, but I was still too apprehensive to feel for myself. ‘Freedom.’
‘Flight can bring us freedom. Just give me time.’
‘Leroi said it himself, the Cold Charge doesn’t get any stronger, even with more Cold, so it’s not as if you can push your way into the sky. I think it’s a foolish plan, and I think your talents are better used elsewhere. One week. Please.’
I allowed my fingertips to touch the underside of the table. I would miss her if she left, but I still had no desire to leave the safety and comfort of the Tavor Manor.
‘I wish the Crier would talk to me again,’ I said.
She slammed a palm down. ‘That’s not how the Crier works, Micah. This is about us. You and me. The Crier hasn’t been able to save us for eight hundred years, so why start now?’ She gave an angry glance around the tinkershop. ‘The secrets are here, are they? In this place? Hidden away from the Jadans themselves. Fine. Show me why this is better than Langria.’
‘Because I can make things here. Things which will help Jadans,’ I protested.
She brought over a bucket of Cold and slammed it down in front of me. ‘So do it. Make us something useful.’
‘I’m trying.’
‘You’re spending as much time trying as you are hiding in grates from your friend’s father,’ she spat.
‘We could make more Saffirs,’ I said quickly, feeling flustered.
‘Jadans don’t have Cold to put in them. And they’re already illegal.’
‘The groan salve,’ I said. ‘You could help me grow more groan trees here and—’
‘The Nobles would only ever take it away. You know that.’ She shoved the bucket over, spilling all the Cold onto the table and the floor. ‘Look at all of this. This Cold that they take out of our hands. Show me why this place is better!’
I felt my chest seize in frustration, unable to answer. ‘I—’
My words were cut short as a Draft suddenly rolled into my lap. I looked at it. Then, an Idea about Cold struck me like a hammer.
My eyes went straight to Shilah’s chest. ‘Have we been looking at the problem from the wrong angle all this time?’ I wondered.
She followed my gaze and snapped her fingers. ‘Hey. We’re having a conversation here.’
I shook myself out of my daze. ‘Take out the map.’
Shilah raised an eyebrow, but she reached under her clothes and pulled out the folded parchment.
‘On the table,’ I commanded.
Shilah’s eyebrows arched in surprise, the angles of her face stiffening.
‘The map,’ I said, with an exasperated sigh. ‘Please.’
Shilah unfolded it gently, clearing away some of the tinkering debris to spread out the page. I stepped around the table to be at her side. Together we looked over the Khatdom. ‘Why doesn’t it say Langria? It’s just the symbol. The Opened Eye.’
Shilah shrugged. Our shoulders were touching, but she didn’t pull away. ‘So. It’s kind of the same thing.’
I let my fingers caress the symbol, tracing the pupil. ‘You said that the first Khat found Desert hidden in the land, right? And then used it to poison the world.’
‘It’s just a story,’ she said quietly. ‘But yes.’
I flashed her a devious grin. ‘The best stories are lessons.’
She sighed and went to fold up the map, but I reached out and put a hand over hers, keeping the paper open. Her skin was soft and cool from the tinkershop’s Cold air, and I had to shake my head to not lose track of what I was thinking.
‘The Opened Eye represents hope, right?’ I asked.
She nodded, not pulling away, letting my fingers rest over her knuckles.
My heart began to beat faster. ‘What if this isn’t a map?’
‘It is a map.’
‘No, I mean, what if it’s not a map to Langria itself, but a map to how we can bring Langria to the World?’ I tapped my finger hard on the drawing. ‘What if there’s something hidden up North? If Sun created Desert and hid it in the land for the first Khat to find, then what if the Crier created something secret too? Something for the Jadans to find.’
I could feel Shilah’s shoulder tense beside me. She thought about it for a moment and then pointed to the map. ‘I’m not saying I buy any of this. But even if you were onto something, it wouldn’t matter. The Eye on the map is huge, the size of the other cities. If there’s something hidden in the land up North, how would we even find it?’
My head spun to the Sand Glider, looking at the clay pot still sitting on its surface. Then I found the shelf of Cold Bellows, thinking about all the cool air in the tinkershop. ‘It would be hard, agreed. But look at everything we have here.’ I waved around at all the machines in the tinkershop. ‘I think we could do it.’
Shilah folded her arms over her chest. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Think about the Charge,’ I said. ‘It’s something that the Khat wants to keep quiet.’
Shilah nodded.
‘We obviously don’t know everything there is to know about Cold. What else can it do?’ I picked up a Wisp from the table and held it up to the light of the Sinai, the surface gleaming. ‘There must be more to know.’
Three swift knocks sounded at the door.
I looked to see if I could find Shilah, but she was busying herself gathering more beakers and salt and ink at the back of the tinkershop. I ran up the stairs without her, sliding off the chain.
Cam burst in, kicking the door closed behind him. His face was red and heavy breathing punctuated his words. His glasses were askew to the point of almost falling off. ‘Spout. I delivered … Decoy Boxes to Mama Jana … got back … they said something happened in the tinkershop. What happened?’
I reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. ‘Breathe, family. Everything is okay.’
Cam didn’t seem convinced, leaning around me and looking down over the railing. ‘Shilah, what happened? Are you okay? Did my brothers …?’
I turned to find Shilah at the bottom of the landing, clutching something behind her back. ‘Hello, sir,’ she said in the emotionless, uninterested tone she used around him, before marching away, her back tall and proud.
Cam frowned, his
chest rising and falling in rapid succession. His voice strengthened with the kind of authority he usually only used in jest. ‘What. Happened?’
‘She’s fine,’ I said, squeezing his shoulder. ‘Listen, we have something important to tell you. I think I finally had an idea that—’
A loud moan came from Leroi’s study, and stopped me from answering. Cam’s lips thinned to a line. He paused, eyes fixed on the door. ‘Spout, is Leroi back in there again?’
I felt a pang in my stomach. ‘Well, Shilah and I were talking this mo—’
Cam swallowed hard. ‘Spout. Is Leroi back in there? I thought he was done with the anklets.’
I gave a sad nod. ‘He was.’
Cam nearly collapsed against the railing. ‘So …’
I let my chin fall slightly. ‘I don’t want to say.’
‘Why is Leroi in there?’ Cam asked in a more forceful way.
Shilah popped her head out from behind one of the clay pots. ‘Because of your Sun-damned father, that’s why!’
Cam went rigid, every drop of liveliness draining from his face. ‘My father? He was here?’
By the time I had filled Cam in on everything we’d witnessed from the grate, his face had grown so pale that I could finally see the resemblance between him and Leroi. I’d escorted him down to the infamous table, where for the last hour I’d been setting up the jars and ink and salt for an experiment, but Cam couldn’t seem to find any excitement over my new Idea.
‘I’m so sorry,’ Cam said yet again, his eyes damp at the corners.
I poured the thick ink and water into a glass, making sure to leave enough room on top. ‘You don’t have to keep apologizing. It’s not your fault.’
Cam had his knees pulled up to his chest, and he hugged them close. ‘I’d strangle him if I could.’ There was a deep fierceness to his voice as he said the words.
‘Let’s focus on this instead,’ I said to Cam, pointing at all the things arranged on the table. ‘You believe in the Opened Eye, don’t you? We think we’ve found the way there.’
Cam’s eyes were still stony, but he gave a nod. ‘Sorry I’ve been distracted. Tell me.’
‘Cold dissolves in air, right? Like with the Saffir. I want to watch what it does.’
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