Coldmaker(30)

‘What makes you think I stole it?’ As she crossed her arms over her chest, I noticed a dark stain peeking out from her sleeve.

She noticed me looking and yanked up the fabric, proudly showing me a tattoo that made my jaw drop even further. I had to squint against the dim light to make sure, but there, in black ink, the Opened Eye was stained into her skin.

‘I did it myself,’ she said proudly. ‘Don’t look so surprised,’ she added, catching the look on my face. She tapped the back of her neck at her barracks markings. ‘You have one too. Mine just happens to be a tattoo I wanted.’

I gave her an annoyed look. I had the suspicion she’d get along well with Abb. I pointed my finger at the design. ‘Fine. But that one goes against everything the Crier has commanded.’

She offered another knowing smile and then pulled at the uniform on her chest. I tried not to let my eyes linger on her, holding in a breath and conjuring thoughts of tinkering instead.

She raised her eyebrows, but thankfully she dismissed it, pointing instead at my feet. ‘Can I have those?’

I blinked, tilting my head with curiosity like Matty often did.

‘Please,’ she added.

I unstrapped my feet. I could always make another pair, I wasn’t likely to get my hands on another Khatmelon.

Shilah examined the shoes for a moment and then bound her feet inside, kneading the sand like I’d done. ‘Thanks, these will help.’

Then, with a smile, she turned and began sauntering back down the dune, her back straighter than ever. ‘And I think you meant it goes against what the Nobles have commanded, not the Crier,’ she shouted over her shoulder.

‘But they’re His chosen people,’ I called.

‘Come back out here in a few nights and I’ll find you,’ she said, walking down the slope. ‘Take some time to think things over. Your first Jadan Cold only happens once.’

My legs had already sunk up to my ankles as I watched her walk south, in the direction of the River Kiln. I couldn’t understand why she’d head that way, as there was nothing there except more dunes, and boiling water that couldn’t be crossed. ‘Do you want to come back to my barracks?’ I called after her, fearing she was walking off to an uncertain death. ‘My father would take you in. We have a private room!’

‘I don’t think so.’ She turned back, her long braid whipping around. ‘Please do try not to get yourself killed. I could use someone like you, Micah.’

‘What do you mean, like me?’

Even from a distance, her smile was like another wash of Cold against my chest.

‘Someone who makes things,’ she replied. ‘An Inventor.’





Chapter Ten


Two nights later, the Khatmelon had become perfectly ripe.

High Nobles expected their Jadans to know how to tell good fruit from bad, even the rarest kinds. The Khatmelon now had a hollow sound when I struck my knuckles on the rind, and its colour was a startling green.

I could have eaten the fruit at any point and been immensely pleased – even the toughest, starchiest melon would still have been a divine change from our ration of figs – but I wanted the surprise to be that much more perfect when revealed.

My lips curled into a smile without breaking any blisters. Gramble had been taking pity on me since Thoth had begun his crusade to dry me out, filling up my water rations extra high whenever he could. My head was still constantly light, but living was now at least bearable. I made sure to clean my forehead of any sweat before reaching my corner, so Thoth had no reason to take away my rations altogether.

But that wasn’t the only reason behind my smile.

Shilah still hadn’t been caught.

Thoth and the rest of the taskmasters stalked Arch Road like sand-vipers, snapping and thrashing at the smallest mistakes; but that only made things clearer.

For the first time, I was witnessing the Nobles struggle to retain their control over us. A Jadan had done something despicable, something so unholy that the Crier should have snuffed her out on the spot, yet she had gone unpunished.

The sound of snapping fingers came from the other side of Abb’s boilweed door, and I hopped up from my blanket, stowing the Khatmelon in my pocket.

‘You don’t have to announce yourselves,’ I said to my friends as I let them in. ‘I think we’re past that.’

Moussa ran his hands over Matty’s scruffy hair. ‘Shorty insisted.’

Matty huffed. ‘I’m not that short.’

I waved them in and ushered them over to my blanket. ‘Sit, sit.’

‘Abb said you had something to show us,’ Matty said, eagerness apparent in his eyes. He had a fresh bruise on his arm. All of Paphos had been on edge since the incident at the Procession, including the Jadans.

My heart started beating with anticipation. ‘I do.’

Matty’s eyes shot to my tinker-wall, scanning the shelves and piles. After a moment, his face dropped. ‘Did’ja lose the Rope Shoes?’

‘Sometimes I think you know my stuff better than I do. Forget about the Shoes.’ I took the Opened Eye carving from the top of the wood pile, and then found a thick beam of starlight to use for illumination. ‘This is more important.’

‘Oh, I seen that,’ Matty said, eyes lighting up. ‘Prolly. Once in the Garden Quarter.’