Coldmaker(63)

The chariot, along with its pageantry, was gone almost as quickly as it had appeared, turning the corner and disappearing onto Maan Road, the ram’s horn blaring loud and leading it into the next Quarter. I noticed that some of the Priests beside me had bent all the way over so they might kiss the road that the Khat had crossed.

‘Rise, slaves!’ Thoth called out, as if he’d been waiting for his cue.

All the Jadans snapped up, while the Nobility followed at their own leisure. Some of my kin were shaking, their knees wobbly from having witnessed the ‘divine’ in the flesh. I wished I could show them what I had seen, and tell them what I had been told over the past few days. Would their knees tremble then?

A black-clad figure now stood in the spot where the chariot had appeared, and for the first time, the Vicaress was not holding her fiery blade.

Instead, her hands clutched a large black bag, velvety and bulging at the seams.

Behind her was an extraordinarily large rations cart being pushed by two lackeys in white, a tub of boiling water sitting between baskets upon baskets of figs.

The Vicaress spoke, and the lackeys repeated what she said loudly enough for the whole street to hear.

‘The Crier assured me He is pleased!’ the Vicaress said, her voice echoing around her. ‘You, Jadan people, have taken your Cleansing without incident. And the Sun has been banished from your hearts. The Crier wishes to reward you for your service. First with a sighting of your divine ruler, and second with a gift of rations. Do not be afraid! Bask in the fact that you made it through, here to serve the Creator once again. You shall feast on figs and choose a Wisp from the holy bag to drink in your water. Together, we shall celebrate the Crier’s delight.’

The Jadans around me first stood still in disbelief, but as the lackeys began to hand out fistfuls of figs, their faces slowly filled with excitement. The Vicaress herself held the bag open, giving each of the Jadans a seductive smile as she encouraged them to reach inside and select a piece of Cold for their water.

I watched what she was doing with a detached sense of awe. The Vicaress knew she’d overstepped her bounds, going against the Gospels, so she got the Khat involved and implemented this scheme. Abb’s secret meeting about fighting back was probably not the only one in Paphos, and the Nobles knew they’d have to do something. This bribery was nothing but an attempt to quell any future resistance, and the worst part was, it would probably work. More than anything, more than all the figs or Cold in the Khatdom, the Jadan people wanted to feel that the Crier hadn’t forgotten about them. An eternity serving Noblekind in the afterlife was far better than spending an eternity in the black.

The Vicaress slid in front of me, and I held my breath, trying not to inhale her intoxicating perfume.

She opened the bag, offering me a smile that could make the Pyramid crumble down to its foundation. ‘Pick one, boy.’

My hands were shaking, but I’d been a slave long enough to know what my facial expression should be. For now, I reached in and pulled out a perfectly nice Wisp, round and shiny. A Priest handed me the communal water goblet, so I dropped the Cold in and drank it all down in one delicious gulp. Figs were shoved into my hands, and the Vicaress moved to the next corner.

I almost wished the smoke above the Cry Temple was black again.

Not because I wanted any more pain for my people, but because I knew after this little peace offering, the Opened Eye would no longer show up on any walls for quite some time. Abb was right, the Nobles would do what it took to keep their power, and this little token of appreciation was a better motivator than any lashing. It was what the Jadan people had always been desperate for.

The Nobles were lying to our faces, and we’d been taking it for hundreds of years, and I knew right then that I couldn’t possibly leave to try to find Langria while all my family was stuck here, suffering and—

The Vicaress gasped, which triggered a rustling from the nearby taskmasters.

‘This Jadan has chosen a black Wisp from the bag!’ the Vicaress said, hand over her chest. ‘He has not been Cleansed! The Sun is still in his heart! He must have drawn one of the Firemaker’s Brands!’

All eyes were drawn to the scene, and we watched the cornered Jadan tremble in front of her, a black Wisp in his hands. The piece of Cold looked as if it had been dipped in paint, and left to dry, covering it in an unnatural sheen. The Jadan looked at the thing with a face full of confusion, his hands shaking.

‘Taskmaster!’ the Vicaress snapped, pointing at the nearest one. ‘Take this Jadan into the Central Cry Temple. He still has secrets.’

The taskmaster sprang to his feet and grabbed the Jadan by his arm, wrenching him down Arch Road. The black Wisp toppled to the ground, and was picked up by the Vicaress, who brandished it so all might see, before stowing it in her pocket.

‘Fear not!’ the Vicaress said, spreading her arms to us. ‘If the Sun is not in you, you have nothing to worry about!’

The rest of the Jadans on Arch Road reached into the bag much more slowly when it was their turn, but when their hands came out of the bag holding a regular Wisp, their smiles were only bigger.

I knew what they’d be feeling. That the Crier truly cared for them, keeping their hand away from any black Wisps, and giving them cool water and figs. The eating and drinking would usher in one of the happiest feelings imaginable.

For just a moment, they were once again worthy.