Coldmaker(27)

I pointed to the carving. Abb picked it up and ran his fingers gently over the pupil. ‘That’s what this symbol is about. Not everyone thinks that Jadans deserve to be slaves after all this time. And that’s what the Opened Eye is about. It’s the hope that maybe one day the Crier will end our punishment and Cold will fall again for Jadans. Some say it happened up North already, in Langria, and that the Nobles are keeping it a secret. Others say it’s still a long time away.’

‘Why would the Crier change his mind and end the Drought though, after all this time?’

Abb gave me an odd smile before turning his eyes back to the ceiling, enjoying the starlight.

I scoffed. ‘None of that answers my question. How do you know I’m not being punished for being tempted by that Shiver?’

Abb started shuffling the cards, putting the deck back together. ‘Because I’ve been tempted by bigger Cold than that.’

I gave him a sceptical look.

‘Back towards the end of my Patch days,’ Abb said matter-of-factly, ‘I touched a Frost. Took off my digging gloves and picked it up with my bare hands.’

My eyes nearly bulged out of my head. ‘Wait, what?’

Abb gave me a nonchalant look. ‘I was working one day and I found a Frost. The Patches are huge and no one was around. Instead of immediately finding a taskmaster like I was supposed to, I undressed my hands and ran my fingers all over it. Big old thing. The size of my head. And unlike other Cold, it was cool to the touch. I’ll never forget the feeling.’

I didn’t understand if he was being serious or not. The Khat’s Gospels decreed that any Jadan who touched a Frost directly would bring upon himself his immediate death. Everyone knew it was one of the most forbidden things a Jadan could do. ‘How can you still be alive?’ I gasped.

Abb finished putting the deck back together, and got up and stretched his back out, letting loose a few severe cracks. ‘Ah, perhaps I am getting old.’

‘Don’t getting old me,’ I said, standing up too. I wasn’t as tall as my father, but I could still look him in the eye. ‘Answer my question.’

‘How would the Nobles know?’ Abb twisted back and forth, trying to loosen his spine. ‘And as for the Crier, he didn’t kill me, but he did do something rather drastic.’

I gave him a searching look. ‘What did he do?’

Abb went over to my tinker-wall and picked up the Cold Wrap off the middle shelf, placing it gently against my chest. ‘He gave me you as a son.’

I moved my feet up and pushed them down again, kneading the top of the dune.

My Rope Shoes were once again allowing me to walk the surface of the sand, proving to be one of the most effective of my creations. I rarely came out to the dunes, so the shoes never got much use, but when in action they always kept me from having to struggle along with my legs buried up to my knees. By spreading my weight over their thick metal frames, which I’d threaded with taut rope, I was able to glide across the crest of the dunes like the wind itself.

But just because I had the right equipment didn’t mean I had the nerve.

I looked over my shoulder, trying to keep calm. My barracks were only a few dunes away, yet I couldn’t have felt further from home.

Why did I feel the need to push my luck with the Crier? I peeked under my shirt. Such a simple thing, yet something so dangerous.

Abb had thought it was funny that I’d refused to try the Wrap inside. But I didn’t want to put him or the rest of our family in danger by drawing the Crier’s attention to the barracks. If I did this, I’d told him, I would do it alone, with no one else around. He had opened up the loose panel in response.

Now I was here, thin clouds of sand washing over my skin, preparing to fall out of the Crier’s grace. Taking a deep breath, I pulled my eyes towards the stars, searching for any comfort Sister Gale could offer.

I shouldn’t have rushed Abb through the Creation story, because he’d left out my favourite part. Sister Gale always deserved a mention. It only took me a few moments to pinpoint Her, as she was in full form, striking a bright pose in the sky.

There were a few versions of the Sister Gale story. Everyone accepted the feud between the Crier and Sun; but how Sister Gale fitted in was always up for debate. Mother Bev had told me the version I liked best, where Gale was the Peacemaker of the eternal family, coming each night to the empty battlefield left behind by Her Brothers, kissing away the wounds of Nobles and Jadans alike.

I closed my eyes and felt Sister Gale’s comforting breath washing away the heat from the sands.

It was time. The Crier had let me get this far, so I might as well go a bit further.

My fingers went to the crushing chamber, touching the tiny Wisp. I told myself over and over that Abb had survived touching a Frost. And the Upright Girl had destroyed a Shiver. If they were alive, then crushing something as small as a Wisp shouldn’t earn the Crier’s wrath.

I hoped.

My heart began to pound. I reached under my shirt and plucked hesitantly at the waxy fabric.

I knew I was just stalling.

I looked up to Sister Gale, Her stars winking impatiently at me. She knew I was just stalling, too.

Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes tightly, said my apologies to the Crier, and then twisted the Wisp until I heard a small crack. The Cold gave way, and the crushing chamber went cold against my chest.