Coldmaker(70)

‘I’m in trouble,’ I said softly. ‘The Vicaress is looking for me.’

‘Why? Oh, Spout. You look like death.’ Cam swallowed hard. ‘What happened? Do you need water? Medicine?’

‘Can you get me inside?’ I asked, my vision narrowing at the sides.

Cam backed away and nodded seriously to the guards. ‘Very well. I guess that is an important message.’ He grabbed my collar and pulled me through the gates. ‘Come with me.’

Short Guard started to protest. ‘Sir, what are you doing?’

‘I’m going to write him an answer to take back, obviously.’

Crooked Nose nervously cleared his throat. ‘Young Master Tavor, sir. Your father said—’

Cam got right up in the guard’s face – even though he only reached his chest. ‘I’m the Tavor here. I’ll do whatever I please. What right do you have to stop me?’

The guard nodded. ‘Very well. My apologies, Master Camlish.’

‘Don’t worry about this little slave,’ Cam scoffed. ‘I’ll send him out of the west gates later. And no word of this to my father, or I’ll have you both sent to the Quarry.’

Cam dragged me along the path of stones leading from the iron gates. A dozen paces away stood a long clay wall, too tall to see over. He shouldered open a door in the centre, hurling us through.

My jaw dropped as we landed in a different world.

A river of grass flowed outwards, the deep green colour pure in the starlight. Not a drop of sand dusted the blades, underneath was only dark brown soil. Long spikes of grass stretched towards the sky like tiny pikes. I looked in both directions, and found that the garden seemed to surround the entire Manor. The whole place bustled with life, making Little Langria look like a single potted plant. To my left, vines crept across trellises, bearing bright berries. Thick trunks were feathered with leaves, fruit tucked in every crevice. And there were wiry bushes dripping with yellow pods. Tubs of Cold waited nearby, more than I’d ever seen in one place, with little ducts at their bases that could wind water through the dark soil.

A dozen Domestic Jadans tended the garden. They wore uniforms unique to the Tavor Manor, tools in hand to work the soil. They were wonderfully pretty, their hair long and combed, but their expressions were sunken and hollow. I knew with faces like that, they probably had to suffer far worse errands than purchasing hand fans and delivering parchment. For Nobles, beauty was a gift, but for Jadan girls, it was just another kind of chain.

‘Sorry about the way I talked to the guards,’ Cam said. ‘I hope I didn’t offend you with any of that.’

I didn’t respond, my throat tightening.

The girls were spreading Cold water along the grass, their faces haunted and expressions blank. A few had trouble walking, even though their legs had no visible wounds, and they looked over at us with silent desperation.

Cam followed my eyes, his face going pale at my expression. ‘I don’t touch them, I swear. I would never hurt them. Ever.’

‘It’s okay,’ I managed to cough out, my head too light for comfort. I could feel the Vicaress’s blade digging around in my chest once again, and I didn’t realize it until now, but I was in quite bad shape. ‘Inside, please. Hide.’

Cam nodded, putting a hand on my shoulder to keep me steady. ‘Come on. I have the perfect place. Just for now.’

He ushered me out of the garden and towards a set of small doors off to the side. We entered the Manor into what must have been just a hallway, but looked to me like a Palace. The air was devastatingly Cold, and the floor was tiled in beautiful black and white marble. Iron candelabras lit the place with musky-smelling candles, and ornate tapestries draped down the walls; lining the walls were cabinets full of shiny trinkets on display. The Tavor crest showed up everywhere, from diamond-encrusted plaques to embroidered tapestries, to wooden instruments hung up with the crest branded along their bodies.

But what really sent me over the edge were the pedestals.

Through the hallway, prominently displayed on wooden podiums, were Chills nearly as big as my head. I rarely saw Cold that size, as it was too valuable, and never entrusted to Street Jadans. And each Chill had a coloured Closed Eye painted on it.

This Cold, each one capable of cooling a huge pool of water for days at a time, was out on display. Not used to keep the Tavors alive, or to buy things they might need, or even to grow bigger gardens.

It was an outrage.

When Cam spoke again, all I could hear was the blood rushing in my ears.

‘Spout,’ he said. ‘Come on. We need to get you off your feet.’

I tried to answer, but the pain and emotion were too much for me, and I toppled over, everything going black.

‘Spout.’

I jerked awake, trying to remember where I was. I sucked in a desperate breath, but the air was too cool for the barracks, and the walls too close to my sides. Pain registered in every one of my bones and joints. A blind panic rose in me but Cam’s face appeared in front of mine, and he snapped his fingers to keep me focused.

‘Spout,’ Cam said. ‘It’s okay. Here. Drink.’

Something was pushed onto my chest, and my fingers scrambled up the pouch, my throat so dry that I couldn’t speak. I tilted the water into my mouth, but found it was thick and syrupy. Even drinking was an effort.