Spin the Dawn(55)

It was the most he’d ever told me about his past. “Is that why you’re not eating much?”

“No, I’m just not as hungry as you are,” he teased. “Eat up. No more talk of famines.”

As he reached for a piece of flatbread, a gold bracelet peeked out from under his sleeve. No, not a bracelet. A cuff—plain, with no ornamentation or jewels. I’d never seen it before. His sleeves had always covered his wrists. Could it be the talisman he’d said he couldn’t show me?

“You mentioned that enchanters channel their magic through talismans,” I began. “I noticed that Emperor Khanujin always wears an amulet with a bird on it. He isn’t an enchanter. What is it?”

Edan dug his fingers into the pale sand. “Something to protect him,” he said dismissively.

“Why does he need an amulet? I thought it was your duty to protect him.”

“It is my duty to serve him,” Edan corrected. “There is a difference.”

I looked at Edan’s wrist again; I wondered about that gold cuff. I picked up my bowl once more, swallowing a mouthful before I dared to ask, “Would you do anything he asked?”

Edan straightened. His bread was on his lap, untouched. He seemed to have forgotten about it—or lost his appetite. “I came here with you, didn’t I? Despite his telling me not to.”

I frowned. “That just shows you’re good at evading direct commands.”

“Yes,” Edan muttered, more to himself than to me. “Unfortunately, Khanujin has learned to be quite accurate in his speech.”

“So you have to obey him?”

“Yes.”

“Or what?”

“That’s enough questions for today, xitara,” Edan said. “It’s nearly dark, and contrary to what you think, I am going to retire to my tent.” He rose, pulling up his hood. “Be careful of snakes and scorpions.” A pause. “But tell me if you see any spiders.”

He disappeared into his tent.

I didn’t see any spiders.



* * *



? ? ?

By our seventh day in the desert, I understood why Edan despised it here. Every breath stung my lungs, and my skin burned so hot it was agony to even move. Edan had become brutal about rationing our food and water, which confused me. I’d seen the powers of his tablecloth. I could have imagined buckets and buckets of crisp cool water. Anything to quench my thirst.

“Must we conserve water like this?” I pleaded.

“Magic is scarce the deeper we go into the desert.”

“Will it get better?”

“Mostly.”

Mostly. I rubbed my neck, which was tender to the touch. My head hurt, and my throat yearned for water, but I refused to show weakness. I wouldn’t slow us down.

So it surprised me when, a few hours before dusk, Edan declared that we would stop and make camp. He was usually adamant about traveling until nightfall.

There was nothing special about where we were. As far as I could see, there was only sand and more sand, but something had made Edan perk up.

He fished in his satchel for an empty jar.

“What’s the jar for?” I asked. My voice was unrecognizable. Dry and crackly.

“Spider hunting,” Edan replied, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “Golden wheel spiders are extremely rare, but I have a feeling luck is on our side.”

“How will we find one?”

“By being observant.” He lay on his stomach, scooping up a handful of sand and letting it cascade through the seams of his fingers. “We’re getting close.”

“You might as well look for a needle in a pile of straw.”

“Leave it to me, then.”

I shielded my eyes with my hand. The sand was hot. “You’re going to get burned if you stay there for long.”

“I don’t burn,” he said. “But you do.” He reached into his satchel for a tiny lidded pot and tossed it my way. “It’s salve. There isn’t much, but the heat will get worse before it gets better and you’re not used to the desert life. Put some on and wrap your face from the sun. Trust me, it’ll help.”

The salve smelled like coconut, with honey and a hint of rose. Gingerly, I rubbed some on my nose and cheeks. My discomfort melted away. It did soothe my burns. I pursed my lips, touched. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me,” he said with a wry grin. “It’s more for me than you. I’d rather spare myself the sight of your face blistering and filling with pus.”

“Oh, you—” I thought of a thousand names to call Edan, but as I saw the corners of his lips lift mischievously and his eyes sparkle that deep blue I secretly relished, none made it past my lips. So I huffed and stalked off to set up my tent.

“Make sure you apply it every morning and night,” he called after me. “I don’t want to travel with a mummy.”



* * *



? ? ?

A little after sunrise, Edan prodded me awake. Something squirmed in the jar in his hand.

I waved him away with a shriek. “What are you—”

“It’s a nocturnal spider,” he interrupted. “While you were sleeping, I was working.”

I rubbed my eyes, now seeing the spider in the jar. Spindly legs, milky white fangs, and a bulbous body nearly as large as my palm.