Coldmaker(32)

The doors swung open and every body went stiff.

It wasn’t news that our Barracksmaster was bringing.

Inside swept a figure wrapped in tight black silk, a fiery blade in her hand. The circle of flames lit up blue and merciless eyes. In the half-light I could make out petrified faces, and our shadows trembled on the walls.

I felt Matty’s fingers tremble, pressing harder against my skin.

Gramble did a long count, his voice breaking as he spoke. ‘Twenty-one Patch, forty-eight Street, thirty-nine Builder, and thirty-six Domestic. They’re all here, Highness.’ Times were rare, if ever, when I’d seen Gramble afraid, but from the look on his face, he might have been thrust in one of the Jadan lines himself.

A sourness began rising in my throat, replacing the sweet taste of melon. The Vicaress prowling the street was one thing, but to find her here in the barracks was unheard of.

‘Barracks forty-five,’ she said, her voice a storm and whisper at the same time, ‘one of your own has betrayed you, and the Crier is displeased. He is looking for her, through me.’

Gramble kept his eyes averted from the flames. I thought for a moment he was staring at me, but I couldn’t tell from my position in the Street line.

‘With the help of dark forces, this girl has eluded the Crier’s vision,’ the Vicaress intoned, her voice calm and collected. ‘I am to be His ears.’

Gramble’s voice rose. ‘Everyone remain calm. The Vicaress is here to look for the betrayer. Follow her orders and everyone will be fine.’

The Vicaress turned slowly towards our Barracksmaster, her lips thin. ‘The Crier does not require you to talk.’

He nodded, bowing his head down low.

‘You are all aware of the blasphemy that happened during the Procession, so I shall make this simple,’ the Vicaress said. ‘Our Lord and Creator had been blinded in this, so He needs to hear the demon’s voice. Women in this barracks. When I point the holy blade at you, you will say “worthy” and nothing else. You shall say it loud and clear, and I will consider any faltering a sign that you have something to hide. This needs to be nothing other than simple. Most of you obey the Gospels, and have no reason to draw upon His wrath.’

Matty tugged at my shirt, and I reached back, steadying my fingers over the birthmark on his wrist. Moussa’s back heaved up and down in front of me. I wanted to tell them both that we would be fine, that the Vicaress wasn’t here because of the melon, that she was only looking for Shilah. This was just a coincidence. All we had to do was obey, and the Vicaress would move on to barracks forty-six without incident.

The Vicaress finally broke her stance, moving smoothly past the line of Patch Jadans, but she stopped towards the end, a curious look on her face when she came alongside Liran. She bent down and prodded his thigh with the handle of the blade, twitching her lips as if she was dissatisfied. Liran managed to stay still under her scrutiny, which was more than I could have done.

Standing up straight, the Vicaress intoned over to Gramble: ‘I’ve just got word. The Crier wishes this Jadan to have two extra figs per ration. Your Patch Jadans should be thick enough to withstand the demanding work.’

Gramble gave a relieved nod. ‘Absolutely, Highness.’

Her shiny lips thinned. ‘I thought I told you, you need not speak. One more outburst and I’ll consider it a sign that you’re trying to hide something.’

Gramble’s face turned to stone.

The Vicaress moved over to the Builders. Only four women were physically adequate to remain in that line – those women who couldn’t cut it as Builders after ageing out of the Street Jadans got sent to the Glasslands – and the Vicaress stopped at Zipporah. Zip had arms that could keep up with any of the men, but she was easily flustered. As soon as the flames came within spitting distance, one side of her face began twitching.

The Vicaress pointed her blade down at Zip’s chest.

Zip hiccuped and then shouted: ‘Unworthy!’

The blade sizzled as it slipped into Zip’s shoulder, nearly causing her to topple over in pain.

‘Worthy,’ the Vicaress said calmly, shaking the blade an inch deeper. ‘The Crier needs you to say “worthy”. Let’s try again.’

Tears welled in Zip’s eyes.

The Vicaress licked her lips, smearing the black gloss. ‘The Crier doesn’t approve of Jadan tears. They are waste. Hold them back and speak.’

‘Worthy,’ Zip shouted, her voice shattering at the end.

The Vicaress closed her eyes and nodded. ‘That wasn’t so hard.’ She moved on to the other women Builders, everyone else thankfully getting the word right. Since none of them had Shilah’s voice, they were safe.

The Vicaress headed for the Domestics. She moved with a confident gait, her eyes blazing with purpose. The fiery dagger was kept high, the flame’s light licking the line of women.

Suddenly, Old Man Gum hopped out of his line and jumped in front of the Vicaress, pointing a gnarled finger at her. ‘The Khat tried to send Him away! They put it in the ground!’

The Vicaress fumbled her grip, the flames around her blade dancing wildly. Her eyes opened wider, which was the most I’d ever seen her lose her composure, even more so than at the Procession. Without warning, she kicked out with her heel and cracked Gum’s leg sideways. Gum crashed to the ground, his head slamming against the hard-packed dirt, and didn’t let out so much as a yelp. Once on his side, she pressed the flat of her blade against the protruding bone of his knee, sealing all the loose flesh.