Coldmaker

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Coldmaker Page 29

by Daniel A. Cohen


  ‘Well, after we experimented with the ink, Cam got really upset,’ Shilah said, the happiness finally dropping from her face. ‘He hasn’t come back yet.’

  ‘What ink?’ Leroi asked frantically. ‘Wait. You can tell me everything on the road. We don’t have time. Start grabbing everything. Cold, food, water, medicine. Any supplies we could use. We need to leave. Now.’

  I held up my hands, trying to calm him down. ‘Hold on, Leroi. I don’t understand. Go where?’

  Leroi was already snatching vials and contraptions from the room. ‘Lord Tavor is going to come here looking. Here. Like the last time a Frost was taken. And you two don’t have anklets on. We can’t let him find you.’ Leroi snapped his fingers, no longer looking at the Coldmaker. ‘Go. Start packing.’

  ‘For what?’ Shilah asked, her voice strong enough to still the Tinkerer for a second.

  ‘There’s only one place a machine like that will be safe,’ Leroi said, pointing a trembling finger at the machine. ‘We’re going to Langria.’

  It was my turn to falter. ‘Langria is real?’

  Shilah’s face lit up.

  Leroi looked guilty for a moment. ‘Yes. But it’s not what you think. Hurry, we need to g—’

  A thunderous knock boomed through the tinkershop.

  All three of our heads turned, another crash resonating not long after.

  ‘Hide,’ Leroi gasped, grabbing the anklet off the desk. ‘Now!’

  I grabbed the Coldmaker and started running towards our hideaway. Shilah pushed the table off, opened the grate, and allowed me and the machine to go into the space first. She tucked herself in, making her body small. The booming on the main door grew louder with each passing moment. Leroi made sure we were completely hidden before racing towards the stairs. He undid the chain, and a swarm of bodies marched in.

  Dread filled my stomach as Lord Tavor’s voice filled the room. ‘Leroi. You know why I am here. You have gone too far this time.’

  Without so much as a greeting, Lord Tavor swept past Leroi and marched down the stairs.

  ‘Wait, cousin!’ Leroi shouted, following behind. ‘I have your anklet right here. Where are you going?’

  Footsteps strode across the tinkershop, using no cane this time. They went towards the study first and then to the nooks and shelves of the main workshop. Lord Tavor crossed the room with the fury and speed of a sandstorm.

  I held my breath as I watched the others come down the stairs and move into view. I could make out two pairs of taskmaster feet, and what looked like a large battering ram. In the middle were Cam’s buckled slippers. But worst of all, in front was a pair of black sandals, hot oil dripping at the heels.

  She was here.

  She’d found us.

  I clutched the Coldmaker even more tightly, praying silently. If Leroi couldn’t protect us then I hoped he could at the very least protect the machine. It was too valuable to be destroyed now, and I felt around the crawl-space to see if there was perhaps enough boilweed to make a cover, so at least they might not notice it when they opened the grate and wrung our throats.

  ‘Stop!’ Leroi shouted. ‘I have the anklet for you.’

  ‘If I find that it’s here …’ Lord Tavor hissed in reply.

  ‘It is here.’

  ‘Not the anklet, you blathering fool! You know what I mean. Your little slave assistant—’

  ‘—Is dead.’ Leroi interrupted. ‘When you had her head cut off.’

  Horror swept through me at his words.

  ‘That’s what you get when you’re a dirty Jadan thief.’ Lord Tavor’s voice was filled with grim humour. ‘And now another one of them is missing, again. My son claims he knows nothing. None of my slaves seem to know anything. And after everything our esteemed Vicaress put them through, I believe them.’

  I felt my stomach clench at the thought of all the Jadans in the Manor being tortured by the Vicaress over the missing Frost. I would have my revenge for them. I needed to survive this, so I might one day watch the Vicaress scream.

  ‘I don’t know what to tell you,’ Leroi responded. ‘Look all you want. It’s not here.’

  Lord Tavor stepped over to the table above our grate, stopping so close that his sandals were inches from my eyes. My heart began to beat so wildly, I wondered if it could be heard resonating in the room. ‘This is where you make them? The anklets?’

  ‘Yes,’ Leroi said, with an audible gulp.

  I heard Lord Tavor pick something up from the table, but eventually his feet moved away. ‘Leroi, you know the Khat’s illustrious niece.’

  I knew he meant the Vicaress.

  ‘I told her about your anklets, and she’s impressed with your design,’ Lord Tavor said. ‘And she wants to commission you. This will bring the Tavor family great prestige.’

  ‘Is that right?’ Leroi said, keeping his tone even.

  ‘Yes. There have been problems in the slave barracks lately,’ the Vicaress said in a smooth voice. ‘And your invention is genius. Anklets that must be turned with a key every twelve hours or the vial breaks inside and acid melts their skin off. It’s inspired. And it’s the kind of threat the Crier needs to put the Jadans back in line.’

  ‘How many do you need?’ asked Leroi.

  ‘I’m glad to see you comply, Leroi. I’ve come to expect more resistance from you.’ Lord Tavor’s voice was coldly appraising.

  Leroi took a deep breath. ‘For the good of the Khatdom. Praise be to his name.’

  ‘Praise be to the Khat,’ the Vicaress said with passion.

  ‘I’ll get started right away,’ Leroi said. ‘Now, please, if you’ll leave me to my work.’

  ‘But you haven’t even heard how many?’ Lord Tavor remarked derisively.

  ‘No, you’re quite right. How many?’

  The Vicaress was the one to reply. ‘Considering the workload this represents, we will start with head Jadans. I will need one for each barracks’ head Jadan. The population has been getting uppity ever since the Cleansing. And we can’t be too careful after finding that cave garden.’

  Leroi clenched his teeth. ‘You want a hundred anklets?’

  ‘Ninety-nine,’ the Vicaress corrected him calmly. ‘I’ve already taken care of the Healer in barracks forty-five last night. Can you believe a Jadan had the gall to gather a group and openly talk about rebellion? And as chance will have it, his son was my missing Jadan as well. He wouldn’t tell me where the child was, but I found illegal items in his quarters. It seemed very much to me that he had undertaken illicit tinkering activity. So I killed him in front of the whole barracks. I think they now know better than to defy the Khat’s orders.’

  I didn’t remember much after that.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  The smelling salts pulled me out of my stupor.

  But I desperately clung to where I was. I didn’t want to be back in reality.

  I wanted to be numb.

  I wanted to be back in the black river.

  I wanted to be back with my father in the sky.

  Leroi practically shoved the salts up my nostril until I finally gave them a sign that I was awake, jerking away from the pungent odour.

  Shilah came up to me first, bending over so I could smell her hair. I was sitting in Leroi’s chair, the Coldmaker on the desk in front of me.

  ‘Abb,’ I said, the word stinging my tongue.

  ‘Spout,’ Shilah put a hand gently on my cheek. It was strange to see such a consoling look on her face. ‘You can grieve all you want later. I’ll grieve with you. But right now you have to get up. We need to go.’

  I looked from side to side, noticing all the supplies and inventions around the study. Three sets of Rope Shoes. Bags of Cold. Waterskins. A whole sack of figs. Clothes. A portable Sinai.

  Cam was there too, standing, his head bowed as though it was too heavy for his body.

  ‘Cam,’ I said. ‘You came back.’

  Cam swallowed hard. ‘I’m sorry. I only wanted to punish my father
. I thought that giving the Frost away …’

  Leroi flicked him on the neck. ‘And look where it got us. Why, why didn’t you think, Camlish?’

  Cam’s hand flew to the Coldmaker. ‘But, Leroi, look. I was right. That Frost got us a miracle.’

  ‘A miracle that will have us all killed. Then what good will the machine be when they toss it to the bottom of the Singe?’ Leroi stuffed the salt block in his pocket. ‘Spout. We need you up and moving. We have to go.’

  I looked to the study door. ‘Lord Tavor …’

  ‘Will be back,’ Leroi said in a solemn voice. ‘I know my cousin. He doesn’t trust me. He’ll be back with all the taskmasters he can and search the tinkershop top to bottom. He knows that we have the Frost. We need to go.’

  ‘To Langria,’ Shilah said, her voice soft. ‘Can you believe it? We’re actually going, Spout. Freedom.’

  Leroi gave a barely audible snort and scooped up a small black velvety bag which rattled with objects as he slinged it over his shoulder. ‘Some inventions, just in case,’ Leroi said, answering the question that played on my face. He looked to the side of his study where the door had been painted the same colour as the walls. It stood open and ready, and through the threshold I noticed a set of stairs leading down into the pitch blackness.

  I tried to get up from the chair, but my legs were too weak. I thought I’d felt grief after my dream where Abb had died, but now that it was real, that my father, the best Jadan I’d ever known had been killed because of me, those feelings seemed laughable in comparison.

  Leroi pulled a flask out of his desk drawer and offered it to me, but I waved it away. He gave a satisfied nod, tossing it into a corner of the study.

  ‘Then I won’t either,’ Leroi said, looking to Shilah and Cam with a different nod.

  Both of them came to my sides, lifting me out of the chair, moving my arms around each of their shoulders so my weight was suspended.

  ‘You can do this,’ Cam said. ‘You’re a natural.’

  I thought about where I had ended up. Where Abb had pushed me to be. Because of him, my friends and I had been led to the most important finding since the Great Drought began. Perhaps ever.

  My father would want me to be strong.

  ‘The Cold doesn’t matter,’ I whispered to Cam. ‘You’re one of us. Family.’

  ‘Thanks, Spout.’ Cam gave my side a squeeze where his hand was, keeping me up. ‘I’m glad you think that.’

  ‘I need you all to be quick,’ Leroi said. ‘We don’t stop until we’re far, far out of Paphos. Then we can break for water, not before. There are Tavors up in the Glasslands. They don’t particularly care for this side of the family, so I think we’ll be safe to stop there and resupply.’

  ‘I can do this,’ I said. I stepped away from my friends’ support and took the bag which sat beside the Coldmaker on the desk, nestling the machine inside it. Someone had thought to put in some boilweed for cushioning, and I buttoned it closed, slinging it over my shoulder. ‘I want to carry this.’

  Leroi nodded understandingly. ‘Course you do. We wouldn’t have it any other way.’

  Everyone loaded themselves with as much as they could hold, our bodies practically caravans, and we followed our gaunt leader into the secret tunnel. The passage was narrow and the stairs steep, but miniature Sinais had been set on each of the landings, and there was enough light to travel by. We moved silently, anxiously. It felt awful to be leaving my new home so soon, but now that I had the Coldmaker I knew the Crier needed me out in His world.

  I’d make more Coldmakers with my blood and tears and Frosts.

  I’d figure out how to reach into the sky itself.

  Perhaps I’d even discover how to rid the world of Desert.

  My legs found strength, and for just a moment I thought I could feel Abb’s touch on my arm, his telltale chuckle over my shoulder.

  Soon enough a door appeared at the end of the tunnel.

  Leroi stopped just before the exit, turning to us with an odd look on his face. ‘I just want you all to know—’

  ‘What are you doing?’ Cam asked. ‘I thought we have to keep moving.’

  Leroi set down his Rope Shoes so he could hold up a hand. ‘Just give me a moment. I want to thank you all. I never thought I’d know hope again. It’s good to know that it’s been there all along, even though I couldn’t feel it.’

  Then he turned and kicked open the door, the Sunlight striking us as we all spilled out into a garden.

  Everything afterwards happened in a flash.

  Before us stood the Vicaress, with an army of taskmasters at her back. ‘Get the slaves!’ she yelled. Lord Tavor was standing by her side, a huge smile plastered on his face. ‘The Crier says they have the Frost!’

  I stumbled back in shock, but Leroi was prepared for this. Moving fast, he reached into his purse and pulled out a round device, whose glass centre was filled with something dark and menacing.

  ‘Run!’ Leroi said, hurling the little device. ‘To the gate! Go!’

  The sphere landed in front of the taskmasters, and the ground exploded, sending grass, plants and fruit flying in every direction. Vicious fire burst from the heart of the explosion, and began to spread. The taskmasters were tossed backwards by a violent wind, nearly colliding with the Vicaress.

  The Vicaress snarled. ‘Forward!’

  A dozen more taskmasters hopped through the wreckage, but Leroi was ready. He hurled another explosive, which landed closer to the oncomers this time. Bodies flew into the air, the Vicaress and Lord Tavor both stumbled backwards.

  Leroi turned and pushed me in the direction of the gate. ‘Go! I’ll keep them off. Leave! Now!’

  Numb with shock, I did as Leroi commanded. Cam and Shilah ran by my sides, our bags colliding in messy thuds, slowing us down. Panicked, I dropped everything except the Coldmaker, which I pressed tightly against my chest.

  There were more bangs, a flurry of shouting but I couldn’t bear to look back. The thump of bodies hitting the dirt seemed to be coming from every direction, and I could feel each explosion in my chest.

  The Vicaress’s screams pierced the air.

  Cam looked petrified, but only fierce determination shone in Shilah’s eyes as she led us through the garden. She pushed open the gate, and we raced behind her.

  I looked back with horror. Leroi was the only barrier keeping all the taskmasters at bay. He hurled sphere after sphere, the land itself opening under his wrath. Fire was now consuming the garden, moving through the green as easily as wind moving across the dunes, and the flames were growing higher and higher. The big tree in the centre of the garden had fallen, the Vicaress and Lord Tavor nowhere to be seen, but more taskmasters were spilling out from other parts of the Manor every second, charging through the garden towards Leroi.

  ‘Shivers and Frosts, Spout! Come on,’ Cam yelled over the blasts. ‘We need to go.’

  ‘Spout,’ Shilah said, a hand finding my shoulder. ‘There’s too many of them. We have to run. We need to keep the Coldmaker safe!’

  She was right. There was only one way to free the Jadan people, and that meant staying alive.

  I squeezed the bars of the gate, taking one last look at the brave Inventor.

  I silently thanked him.

  Then the three of us ran into the sands.

  Acknowledgements

  There are far too many people to deeply and sincerely thank, and even if your name does not appear below, know that I am forever grateful.

  First and foremost, thanks to my agent, Danielle Zigner: the Dream-maker.

  Thanks to my mother, for being the only one who believed this book possible from the very beginning.

  To Jardin Telling, for being the most loving and supportive girlfriend a struggling young writer could ever ask for. I could not have gotten through this grueling process without you.

  Thanks to Natasha Bardon, Lily Cooper, Jack Renninson, and the rest of my HarperVoyager family. My family family (I finally me
ntioned you in text itself, Ray Ray!). My Waking Fable family. Fierce Kelly family. Spencer Hill Press family (Kate Kaynak and Rich Storrs is particular). Firehouse and House Wine family. Brad Payton and the Payton family. Thanks to William Goldman, Patrick Rothfuss, Ted Chiang, and Brandon Sanderson (not that I know them personally, buy they deserve all the thanks in the World Cried for showing me the way). And finally, thanks to Sara Hahn for the many mountains of inspiration.

  About the Author

  Having spent most of his life trapped in the frozen tundra of upstate New York, Daniel Cohen decided to dream himself somewhere new. It was from this quest for heat that the scorching world of COLDMAKER was born.

  In addition to his writing career, Daniel is a semi-professional saxophonist in Austin, Texas, spending his days in front of the page and his nights in front of crowds. Sometimes the crowds cheer, and Daniel often wishes the page would do the same.

  www.danielacohenbooks.com

  Twitter: @saxophonehome

  About the Publisher

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  HarperCollins Publishers Ltd.

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