Coldmaker(26)

‘I didn’t. I put it back on the pile, but when I turned around, she was there watching. She ran away, but she must have come back later.’

‘Let me do some fatherly deduction here.’ He tapped his bottom lip. ‘You think you’re the reason she tossed the Shiver. And in doing so, you think you’ve angered the World Crier and got your Jadanmaster fired, and brought down this new Jadanmaster who gives you half the water and twice the beatings. And – again this is just a guess – you’re assuming it was a punishment for your temptation, and that you should probably stop tinkering just to be safe.’

I nodded, a lump in my throat. As always, he was spot on. ‘Yes. That’s exactly what I think.’

Abb didn’t even look up from his hand. ‘Well, you’re wrong.’

I set mine on the pile. ‘What do you mean, “wrong”? How can you just dismiss it? Just look at your eye. All the taskmasters in Paphos are now making a point, trying to get us in line. What if it’s my fault?’

Abb levelled his eyes to mine. His face was impossibly calm. ‘It’s not.’

I felt a fire burning in my chest. ‘You don’t have any proof of that.’

Abb flipped over my cards and started helping himself to all of the hourglasses. ‘You think you’re the first Jadan to think like that? That the Crier singled you out? That you’re responsible for all the pain around you?’

I suddenly felt very young and na?ve. ‘No.’

Abb whistled, holding up one of my cards in triumph. ‘Ah, so you’ve been hoarding the Glassland Glazier this whole time. No wonder you were winning.’

‘Can you be serious for a second, I—’

‘The Nobles hold up a Closed Eye for a reason.’ Abb gestured to the bottom of my tinker-wall. ‘Speaking of … I see you know about its opposite.’

I went stiff.

‘The Opened Eye,’ Abb clarified. ‘The one you carved into that piece of wood.’

Once again I was silenced at his words. How did he know about the secret carving I’d done the night before? Even though I knew it was an incredibly needless risk, I hadn’t been able to help myself. I’d taken my chisel and done all the work outside, smuggling it back in under my shirt when he was asleep. And I’d made sure to hide it at the back of the bottom shelf. I lowered my voice, all too aware of the curiosity in my tone.

‘Your turn to spill then,’ I said quietly. ‘Does the symbol mean what I think it means?’

‘What do you think it means?’

I paused, speaking almost in a whisper. ‘Worthy.’

Abb rifled through his cards, eventually picking out the single Crier card in the deck. It was forbidden to draw any image of the Creator, so I’d settled for doodling a Frost to represent him.

‘What do you know about Langria?’ Abb asked.

‘Same as everyone else,’ I said with a shrug. It was a children’s tale, passed down through the generations amongst Jadans despite being frowned upon in the Khatdom. ‘The land as North as North goes, where everything is green and alive, as it was before the Drought, and Jadans are free.’ I tried to steal my cards back from his hand, but Abb gave a masterful dodge. ‘It isn’t real though, is it?’

Abb licked his dry lips. ‘If it’s not real, then why is it kept quiet?’

I paused, not having thought about it like that before.

‘Get your carving,’ Abb said with a gesture to my tinker-wall.

I dug the wooden piece from beneath my useless Dream Webs, blowing out the sand before handing the carving over.

‘Okay.’ Abb settled it at his side, wiggling the Crier-Frost card instead. ‘In the beginning, the Crier was feeling lonely, and with his first tear he created the World. The second, the Jadan people.’

‘Yes.’ I gave a teasing smile. ‘That’s what happened.’

‘And the lands were green and healthy,’ Abb said, ignoring my tone. ‘And animals roamed, fruit grew and music played.’

‘Yes,’ I said, although Abb sounded so sentimental I decided not to tease him.

He fished around for a card, finding the one painted the colour of fire and sat it next to the Crier. ‘And from deep in the black, Sun saw what his Brother had done, and he got jealous. Sun tried to do the same, to create something beautiful, but every time he tried Crying something into existence, it dried up. So, after failing over and over, Sun decided to ruin the World. Every day he showed up and burned away what he could. The Crier, not able to banish his older Brother back to the eternal black, decided to create Cold instead. And Cold fell from the sky every night and broke over the mountains, and cooled the boiling seas, and turned sand into soil, and the land itself survived.’

I couldn’t help it. ‘Yes, Dad. I know the story.’

‘Indulge me,’ Abb said. ‘Or do you already know everything about everything, oh wise Inventor?’

My cheeks flushing, I let him go on.

‘And cities grew, and wonderful things were discovered, the unknown was tamed. And for a long while, the Jadan people were happy. They fell in love and made music, and they lived in peace with nature, and—’

‘And then eventually came the Great Drought,’ I said, moving him along.

Abb shook his head with a sigh. ‘Brilliant mind, no patience. Anyway, yes, the Great Drought. The Jadans angered the Crier with their sins, and Cold stopped falling everywhere except the Patches of the first Khat. Most of the land died, we became slaves, and the Khat and those closest to him became Nobles. Brief enough for you?’