Spin the Dawn(60)

No! You can’t give up now.

Was that my voice or Edan’s? I couldn’t tell. But it was enough to give me the strength to crawl off the ledge. Shielding my eyes, I slipped the walnut into my pocket and took the first step down the ladder.

One step. Then another. And another.

Mercifully, the path out of the labyrinth was straight and wide. When I could finally see the sand outside, I started to run, so fast I nearly slid out of the temple gate. My whole body ached like fire, but I let out a strangled, dry laugh.

Edan pulled me up and thrust his canteen to my lips. “I see the Temple of the Sun has left you half baked….” His voice faltered. Worry etched itself into his features. “You don’t look well, Maia.”

I drank greedily; then I got up slowly and dusted myself. “I’m fine. I did it.” I held out my walnut to him, but instead of taking it, he caught me in his arms.

“So you did,” he said, holding me upright with his good arm. “Well done.” He touched my cheek with the back of his hand. “You’re burning up.”

It hurt when he touched me; my skin was scorched and I was almost delirious.

Blisters swelled on my eyelids, and I winced when he covered my eyes with his hand.

“Keep your eyes closed.”

“I’m fine. It’s just bright.”

Without any warning, he picked me up, his chin touching my forehead, and carried me into the shade of the trees. The winds were strong, but he shielded me from the gusting sand.

I started to wrap my arms around him, but his eyes were yellow and bright like the sun…they frightened me. I struggled out of his hold and ran toward Milk before collapsing in the sand.



* * *



? ? ?

Edan was reading by the dim light of his lantern when I awoke. My movement startled Milk—and me. I was secured to the saddle, but now that I was awake and flailing, I lost my balance. She kneeled just before my legs tipped off her back onto the sand, and she blinked her large amber eyes at me. Then she licked my cheeks.

Edan made a tutting sound at Snowfoot and dismounted. “You’re awake.”

As he untied the ropes holding me to the saddle, I tried to stand. My body was stiff, the pain from the burns a dull throb. My face and arms were sticky, plastered with salve.

“You had heatstroke,” said Edan. “Try not to wipe it off or your burns will fester and become infected.”

Steadying me with his arm, he gave me a canteen. I took a long, long drink, suddenly thankful he had been managing our supplies so carefully.

“How are you feeling now?”

“Fine,” I replied tersely. “Hungry.”

“No wonder. You were asleep for nearly two days.”

“Two days!”

He passed me a bag. Inside were crackers and dried fruits and jerky. A feast.

Edan jumped onto his camel and picked up his book again. The shadows blooming under his eyes were darker than before, and his irises were paler than I’d ever seen them—almost gray. “Don’t finish it all,” he said, waving his book at me. “We still have four days until we reach Agoria.”

Agoria, where the Mountains of the Moon awaited, and where Keton had fought the shansen’s men during the Five Winters’ War. Where Sendo had died.

“The shansen’s men and the emperor’s army came to a standstill in the Mountains of the Moon,” Keton had told me when he returned home. “I was there. Arrows got me, and Sendo dragged me to safety. There were bodies everywhere, scattered over the mountain. By the end of the night, thousands were killed. Including Sendo.”

I chewed and swallowed, suddenly losing my appetite. Tightening the drawstring on the bag, I turned away to gather myself. Edan was still reading on his camel.

“Where’s the walnut?” I asked as I tapped Milk to kneel and mounted.

Edan replied, “I’ll retain it for safekeeping, if you don’t mind.”

“Have any tailors sewn with sunlight before?”

“Not that I know of,” said Edan, removing his hood. His black curls glistened with sand. Sand, and sweat, I noticed with a frown.

“Sewing with magic is a rare gift,” he said. “Rarer still in the hands of a talented tailor such as you. Between friends, I will admit Lady Sarnai has set you up for failure, but I have faith you can make the dresses. I’ll help you any way I can.”

I raised an eyebrow. “I thought you said we weren’t friends.”

“We weren’t. But enchanters are fickle.” He offered me a small grin. “I might have changed my mind.”

I felt a rush of warmth. If not for Edan, I would not have known where to begin. Even though we bickered, he was the only friend I had out here. Maybe anywhere, to be honest.

“Your father was not able to wield the scissors, was he?” Edan asked.

“No. He said they were my grandmother’s.”

He leaned close, as if he were studying a fragile specimen. “Odd.” He touched my chin. “Enchanters don’t usually leave descendants.”

I didn’t know why the comment made me blush. Or why his touch, so quick and gentle it was practically nothing, sent a rush of tingles trilling over my skin. I pulled back, hoping my embarrassment didn’t show. “I don’t know much about my ancestors.”