Perhaps unsurprisingly, I was getting nowhere.
Whatever I tried, nothing happened, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was missing something.
But for now, my neck was aching, my arms were weak, and I was starting to see things moving in the shadows.
I decided a little rest wouldn’t hurt, so I sat down and closed my eyes.
‘Nice work putting the “ink” in tinkering, Little Builder,’ Abb said with a laugh, standing on top of the Khat’s Pyramid, waving his arms to keep balance.
I looked down, seeing only stone and sand and darkness stretching as far as the eye could see. ‘Looks like you’ve put the father in … the dad in the—’
‘Stick with what you’re good at,’ Abb replied with a wink. ‘Anyway, I’m going to need to go back to the barracks soon, there’s only so many excuses Gramble will believe these days. How about one last story?’
I felt my chest squeeze. ‘Only one?’
‘You want more?’ He stepped closer with a wink. ‘I never thought the son of a Healer would be so greedy.’
I laughed, shaking my head. ‘One is fine.’
Abb put a hand on my shoulder, and pointed over to the thousands of pieces of Cold falling to the Patches in the distance. Thick streaks fell occasionally, and I knew instinctively they were Frosts. We began walking towards the distant stars. I had missed his smell, his presence, and I leaned into him as we moved.
‘Have I told you the story of Alex the Painter before?’
‘I don’t think so.’
He put an arm around me and hugged me tightly against his chest. ‘Well, I’m glad I saved it for last then.’
He slowed our pace, ambling towards the falling stars in the distance. I thought I saw words traced in their wake, reminding me of the prayer he’d sung to me on my birthday.
Abb paused, taking a deep breath. ‘Once there was a young painter named Alex who lived in the small town of Yelish. Alex had a natural gift, but he decided he didn’t want to settle for being good, he wanted to be great. So he travelled the entire World Cried, discovering all the colours and textures and sights he could find. While he was on the road, if a family gave him food and shelter for the night, Alex would paint their walls with beautiful designs in thanks. If he found a sad traveller on the road, he would take out his tools and brush colour on their clothes in exchange for directions. He learned and he grew, and half a lifetime later he did indeed become great. And when Alex returned home to Yelish he painted masterpieces, on canvas and walls and streets, and for years the Jadans there rejoiced. One day Sun decided he was tired of all the beauty that Alex had at his fingertips, so he fell to the land and disguised himself as the Jadan king, showing up at Alex’s door with a deal.
‘“You have offended me by not coming to my Manor and offering to paint my likeness. Normally I would have a painter killed for this slight, but I’ll make you a deal,” the king said. “If you can paint something so beautiful that it makes everyone in Yelish weep, then I will let you live. I’ll be back in one year.”
‘Alex bowed, accepting the challenge. As someone who knew how to use his eyes properly, he was able to see right through Sun’s disguise, and knew there was no way around the deal. So he locked himself away, and for a year, he poured everything he had into his work. Every stroke was a memory; every smear was a piece of his heart. He grew thin and frail as he lost himself on the canvas, not leaving his room, only concentrating on making something utterly beautiful. One year later Sun returned disguised as the king, gathering everyone in Yelish into the town square, setting them to face the wall of the Cry Temple where Alex was to display his masterpiece.
‘“Jadans of Yelish,” the Sun King bellowed, “I give you, your renowned Painter.”
‘Alex came around the Temple on wobbly legs, his canvas in hand. He looked thirty years older and fifty pounds skinnier. When he got to the wall, his bony arms flipped the painting to set it on the easel, but just as he was putting it in place Sun took away the light that the Painting needed if it was to be seen. When the Jadans of Yelish looked, all they could see was shadow, dark and ugly. Any angle they moved to revealed the same thing.
‘Nothing.
‘The Sun King laughed his wicked laugh, sharpening his blade for Alex’s throat, but then he realized something.
‘Every Jadan in Yelish was weeping, the ground stained with hundreds of tears.
‘“Why are you weeping?” the Sun King asked, both astonished and angry. “There’s no painting. There’s nothing to cry over.”
‘The town elder came up to the Sun King, tears at the corners of his eyes. “We have all known his work. The whole town has been shaped by his touch. It doesn’t matter if there’s a masterpiece or not. Look at the deathly state of him. We weep not for any painting. We weep for Alex.”’
There was a moment of silence as Abb and I wandered through the sky.
‘I’ll have to tell this story to Shilah one day,’ I said.
Abb bent over and kissed the top of my head, rubbing his knuckles across my hair. ‘I love you, son. You have made me so proud. And I know you’re about to change everything. I must be on my way now. I’ll say hello to Matty for you.’
And then my father was stolen from me, falling with the rest of the Cold, his body plummeting towards the sands.
I awoke with a start, my hands shooting out in front of me, finding only empty air. I blinked a few times, remembering where I was, and then the dread filtered in.
Leroi’s self-spinning hourglasses on the wall told me I’d been asleep for hours. I knew it was only a dream – how could it be otherwise? – but the feeling of happiness I’d felt at seeing Abb, and the following shock and pain at watching him fall had been real, and my heart was tightly knotted up. I felt an immeasurable sense of loss. Abb’s words still rang in my ears. I couldn’t fight the voice in my mind that kept whispering to me that this was the last time I’d see my father.
But it was only a dream.
I wiped a hand across my face, ridding myself of the tears that had gathered on my cheeks, and trying to keep my sniffing quiet so as not to wake Shilah. I felt as if my heart had fallen out of my chest.
‘I think that’s enough,’ I said quietly to the giant Cold. ‘As you were.’
But when I reached out to take the Frost off the hammock, wrapping my hands around the beautiful sphere, my whole world shook. An intense sensation swept through my fingertips. I tasted Cold, and my mind was washed blank. It all happened too suddenly for me to fully comprehend, but a river of energy jolted me awake and a wave of Cold air rushed across my back, sweeping my robes inwards. And all around the workshop the buckets of Cold on the shelves crashed to the ground, the clangs of metal so loud that Shilah awoke and fell out of her chair into a defensive crouch, her hands scrambling for a weapon. The Frost lit with the same golden hue I remembered from my vision with the Crier, the three-line symbol on its belly bursting with light.
I ripped my hands away from the Frost, holding them in front of my face to try to make sense of what was happening. My fingertips were still sizzling with energy, and for a moment my skin had borrowed the golden colour of the Frost, although it faded quickly. I looked around me. Hundreds of pieces of Cold were now eerily rolling along the floor towards me.
‘What’s happening?’ Shilah frantically looked around. She stepped up onto her chair to get a better look at the tinkershop, the panic making her posture straighter than ever. ‘Taskmasters? The Vicaress?’
‘I—’ I looked from my hands to the Cold, coming to a standstill on the ground, then back to the Frost. ‘No. I don’t know. I touched the Frost and—’
And then it all clicked, the World Cried suddenly making sense.
‘Tears,’ I said, gasping from the revelation. ‘Jadan tears.’
Shilah wrapped a gentle hand around my wrist, scrutinizing the tips of my fingers. ‘What do you mean, tears?’
It was hard to get my mouth to work, as my bottom jaw fe
lt so slack I worried it might just drop off. ‘Crier. Tears. Jadan Tears.’
Shilah gestured to the mess of Cold scattered about the floor. ‘You’re saying you did that?’
‘Watch,’ I said, flabbergasted, the golden hue of the Frost having faded back to normal. ‘Do it with me.’
Shilah’s hand was still around my wrist, and I guided our arms towards the Frost, the tips of my fingers still wet. As soon as I connected with the Cold, the phenomenon started up again. Sizzling energy coursed through my entire body, making me somehow stiff and relaxed at the same time, and I could feel the golden glow in my bones, and in my hair. Shilah’s grip was like a vice around my wrist, and I looked into her face while Cold continued to crash all around us, violently rolling our way, and I watched the budding golden light reflected in her hazel irises. Her mouth was agape as well, and her back went the straightest I’d ever seen it go, and somehow I could feel the energy swapping between our bodies, exploring our tips and centres and perhaps even deeper.
I wrenched my fingers off the Frost before the commotion around us got so bad that we woke the whole Tavor Manor, holding my trembling hand in front of her face. The Cold all around us had stopped rolling, some of it having tucked between our feet and nestled against our legs.
‘Tears,’ I said again.
Shilah released her grip and swung a hand around the back of my neck, swinging our heads together. Our lips collided a little too hard and our teeth struck, but unlike me she knew was she was doing, and gently pulled back her lips so we could properly fit before grabbing me tighter. My mouth was dry from shock but Shilah didn’t seem to care, pressing her soft lips against me with the kind of passion I’d never known, firm yet gentle, tasting of fruit and sweat and a hundred different things that sent exploding powders firing across my mind, brushing out any thoughts except the exact sensations of the moment.
She let go too soon and fitted a hand over each of my cheeks, looking me deep in the eyes. ‘Spout.’
‘Yes,’ I said, trying not to pant.
She laughed a crisp laugh, her gentle fingers moving up and caressing the corners of my eyes. ‘No. Spout.’
I felt like my chest was so full it was going to burst. A new Idea dropped into my mind like Cold falling from the heavens. ‘I think I know what we need to make.’
Chapter Thirty-One
The Coldmaker was an accident.
I’d never thought it was even a remote possibility. My logic was that if a Frost touched by Jadan tears attracted Cold, then maybe I might be able to tinker something that could find Cold. Shilah had agreed that this was the best next step, and together we’d experimented for the rest of the night, figuring out the strength and duration of the phenomenon, and if anything could amplify the pull. We also hoped that such a machine might help us clear up the Desert theory, perhaps finding its opposite buried somewhere in the Northern sands, where the Opened Eye was sitting on Shilah’s map.
I often found myself preoccupied with vivid memories of Shilah’s lips, but I tried to focus as best as I could.
The hope – as unlikely as it may have been – was that if I somehow figured out the secret of flight, I could take the Coldfinder into the air; which would allow me to collect greater amounts from the sky each night, dragging the Cold towards me, instead of having to fly to each individual piece.
At least that was the intention as Shilah helped me prod and tinker and brainstorm. We’d taken the Frost into the most soundproof room of the tinkershop to experiment further. We brought in the clay pots of Cold Charge to see if they might affect the Frost’s pull, and if there was any materials that perhaps negated the power. A successful raid of the Manor kitchens brought back ten onions, which I cut up in order to extract a full vial of my tears, at one point slipping and slicing into my knuckle.
I never expected to stumble on what we did.
So, when shuffling sounds came from Leroi’s study the next morning, Shilah and I burst in with our accidental invention, unable to keep the smiles off our faces. We found Leroi hunched over his desk looking at his decanter, which now held a branch with fuzzy red buds at the end.
‘Leroi, you’re back!’ I exclaimed.
The tinkerer looked up at me, his face full of sorrow. ‘I had to go away.’
‘Alder,’ Shilah said with a coy grin, pointing at the branch.
Leroi’s face grew unreadable. ‘Yes,’ he said hesitantly.
‘I’m glad you’re back! We have something to show you.’ I was practically dancing on my toes, so eager was I to reveal what we’d made.
Leroi looked at the machine I was carrying, his eyes narrowing at the Opened Eye I’d etched into the metal casing.
Despite the little sleep I’d had, and the anxiety I felt thinking about Abb, I couldn’t help but beam. The invention in my hands was by far grander than anything I’d ever dreamed of creating.
‘Shilah, would you mind grabbing the glass and water?’ I asked, trying to keep calm.
Shilah nodded, rushing out of the study and into the tinkershop.
I set the Coldmaker gently down on Leroi’s desk, my heartbeat racing in anticipation. The machine was compact enough to carry in my arms, but came with decent heft. I’d used brass for the walls of the container itself, golden and gleaming; and I’d welded strong iron for the catch-point so it wouldn’t bend out of place. The lid acted like a Belisk Puzzle-Box, only opening with the right combination of secret sliding levers; which meant only the worthy could look inside and discover its secrets.
The anklet still stood on the desk as well. It was odd to see my creation sitting next to it, but it struck me as fitting.
‘Where did you go?’ I asked.
Leroi’s eyes were back on the Alder plant, his face gaunt and his scalp crisped up once again. ‘To visit an old friend.’
It was hard to see him so visibly upset, but I knew his mood was about to change.
Shilah returned, setting a glass on the desk and filling it up. She backed away, her smile possibly even larger than mine, shooting me an excited look. We’d already witnessed this miracle a few times, but each time it caused me a thrill I felt could never wane.
‘Leroi,’ I said, feeling more alive than I’d ever felt before. ‘Thank you. For allowing us to create this.’
Biting my lip, I flipped the machine on, the gears inside turning and the droplets being extracted from each of the different vials. The machine hummed and the air around us took on the static we’d come to expect, the catch-point lighting up with the golden glow. After a few moments, the colour had coalesced into a solid bead, vibrant and holy.
I turned the invention off and picked up the little bead which I’d decided to call an Abb.
‘May we present to you,’ I said, my voice slightly shaking, ‘the Coldmaker.’
Leroi had kept still as we spoke, but we held his attention, his eyes fixed on the invention. ‘Excuse me?’ He broke out of his reverie. ‘Did you say a Coldmaker?’
I smiled brightly, taking out a blade and slicing off a sliver of the Abb into the cup, backing away as it landed on the surface of the water.
Almost instantly the glass shattered, the two sides falling apart, and leaving behind a gleaming miracle. The block was solid, and clear, and the crystal sides beaded with gentle moisture, shining in the dim candlelight. I knew from the Gospels that this miracle substance hadn’t been seen this side of the Great Drought.
Leroi’s legs buckled, his hands finding the desk so he wouldn’t collapse.
‘Is that,’ his words sounded slurred, but this time not from drink, ‘Ice?’
I nodded, a lump of emotion forming in my throat. ‘Yes.’
Leroi leaned forward to touch my machine. ‘A Coldmaker?’ he repeated.
I nodded, sliding my palm over the smooth metal. ‘The Coldmaker.’
Leroi collapsed in his chair, trying to process what he’d just seen. It had taken Shilah and me some time to get over the initial shock ourselves, so I didn’t blam
e him. ‘Is this from the Crier? Did you speak to Him again?’
‘No,’ Shilah said, jumping in. ‘We made it ourselves.’
‘Is this a trick?’ Leroi said, looking up at the ceiling. ‘Am I awake?’
‘It’s real,’ I said.
Leroi still looked dumbstruck. His eyes returned to the block of Ice, his mouth half-opened as though he wanted to speak but didn’t have the words. Reaching out, he placed his fingers gently around the Ice and brought it to his lips, his hands shaking. ‘How? This is the greatest invention of our time. This is going to change the entire world. You two found a way to …’ his mouth seemed to have trouble admitting it ‘… create Cold.’
‘Do you know about Desert?’ Shilah asked, her grin still taking up most of her face. She looked incredibly beautiful in that moment, and I thought back to the second, even more passonate kiss that she’d planted on my lips after we’d made the Ice discovery. I was desperately hoping there would be more in my near future.
Leroi looked shocked. He paused. ‘Yes. I didn’t want to scare you with such an idea yet. How did you—’
‘We wanted to find the opposite in the North,’ Shilah said proudly. ‘So when Cam gave us the Frost—’
Leroi gasped at the word. ‘Did you say Frost?’
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Cam left it on the—’
Leroi’s finger shot to the Coldmaker. ‘Is there a Frost in there? One of Lord Tavor’s Frosts?’
I felt a wave of unease. I hadn’t expected such a reaction. ‘Yes, but—’
Leroi stiffened with alarm. ‘Crier’s light, no. Not again.’
‘What?’ I said. ‘It’s not like we stole it. Cam—’
‘That damn boy is going to get you killed!’ Leroi cried out. ‘What was he thinking? Where is he?’
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