‘Lechem et Shemess chetman herad – Naass grosh lo chiss,’ Split read, his accent throaty and unsure. He scratched at the thread-like hair clinging to his bald head. Eventually he shrugged and translated. ‘And the Sun took his next payment, and that’s how snake lost his feet forever.’
A collective whimper spread throughout the young Jadan audience. One child at the end of the front row began to full-out cry.
Split was quick to flip around the pages to show the illustration. The snake was headed for a hole in the sands, fleeing from the evil Sun. The drawing in the ancient book was rather faded, but it was clear that the snake was happy.
This book was part of a huge array we’d uncovered in the Sanctuary library. The children liked the ones with the crude illustrations best, and those became the ones Split used for his story time.
‘It’s okay!’ Split said in desperate tones. ‘Look, see. It turned out for the best, because the snake could get around quicker and dig faster without feet! The Sun could never find him down under the sands, and so in the end, the snake won the bet!’ Split pointed to the creature’s mouth, which may or may not have been smiling. The picture was too faded to tell. ‘You see how happy he is?’
Most of the kids relaxed, and some even giggled, although the one in the front row kept crying. I placed the boy around five or six. I didn’t think he was sobbing because of the story.
I looked for any signs of broken bones or angry wounds that we might have missed, but he seemed in decent health. As healthy as could be expected at least – considering the circumstances of where we’d found his particular group of children.
Picka began braying behind Split, nudging the Pedlar with her snout. The children loved the dwarf camel, and Split made sure to bring her to every story time.
‘Shhh,’ Split said, looking around the room with desperate eyes. ‘I’m telling you, snake was better off, kids. He was faster now without those bulky legs. It’s okay. It’s okay!’
‘Quit it,’ one of the girls in the second row said to the crying boy, smacking him in the back of the head. ‘Don’t waste water, Niles.’
It was difficult to keep track of all the children’s names, as there were now hundreds of Jadans taking refuge in the Sanctuary. About fifty Jadan kids were in the room listening to Split’s story.
This group was one of six which we’d found locked in the schools, after the Nobles had begun abandoning the city. The Priests had left them with no Cold, food, or water, barring them into the hot stone buildings in the middle of the day.
Their torture was a message for Shilah and I.
It was their first retaliation.
There would be many more.
The Jadan children had all been next to dead when we found them. They weren’t screaming or moaning, and their silence only spoke to how close to the black they were. I’d picked the lock and found them patiently in their seats, blood on their faces and Closed Eye pendants sewn into their clothes.
It had been the same at each of the six schools.
Shilah careened through the rows, stopping at Niles. Niles continued to weep with abandon.
‘What is it, Niles?’ Shilah asked, her tone soothing. ‘What’s wrong?’
Niles shied away from her touch, his hands going into fists and rocking back and forth. He began whispering under his breath.
‘It’s okay, Niles!’ Split said gently, snapping his fingers and then stroking Picka’s snout. ‘You want to touch her? She’s really soft and doesn’t bite.’
Picka fluttered her black lips at the sound of her name, showing large teeth. It was a friendly expression, but Niles probably hadn’t had much experience with beasts yet. It only caused another wave of tears.
The girl behind Niles lifted her fist to hit him again – the Khat’s Priests encouraged violence against other Jadan children – but Shilah caught the strike before it landed.
‘No, Juniss!’ Shilah commanded. ‘None of that.’
The girl, Juniss, looked confused, staring as if boilweed smoke was coming out of Shilah’s ears.
‘Whass wrong?’ Juniss asked her.
‘You don’t hit your brothers,’ Shilah said. ‘The Nobles did enough of that.’
Niles’ whispering was getting more frantic. The tears made the dark skin on his face glisten like pebbles on the banks of the Singe. Shilah went to put a hand on his shoulder, but he smacked her touch away. His small body continued to rock.
Shilah stood up in frustration, grinding her teeth.
Picka’s braying got shriller.
Cam filtered through the ranks of children next. Niles took one look at Cam’s golden hair and immediately the young boy’s expression softened into obedience.
‘What’s wrong?’ Cam asked, kneeling down.
‘We – sniff – we’s sposed to say our promises. We didn’t say our promises today. The Crier’s gunna b-be angry with us, and the Sun’s gunna take our f– feet too.’
A few of the other children nodded their agreements, suddenly remembering the predicament they were in. Their faces bunched, turning at the ceiling in fear.
It was so incredibly awful that I almost laughed. A surge of fresh rage careened through my chest.
Shilah knelt, but this time didn’t try and make any contact. ‘You don’t have to say the Khat’s promises anymore. You’re safe now. You’re with your family.’
Niles wouldn’t look her in the eyes. ‘But t-the promises keeps us safe. If we don’t say them we d-don’t get our Cold. The Crier will be angry.’
It wasn’t that I’d forgotten about the promises – saying something twice a day for years practically imprints it on the tongue – it had just been such a long time since my life with the Priests. But now, having been reminded, I could feel the candlewax burning onto the backs of my hands. The Priests had done that every time they thought my promises didn’t sound sincere. They used blood-red wax so we’d get used to the colour.
‘They were lies,’ Shilah said, making a halting gesture towards Picka, which actually got the camel to quiet down. ‘Everything they taught you. Everything they made you—’
Niles began bawling again. This time two other children joined in. Juniss looked like she was about to hurl her sandals at the weeping children.
Shilah stood up, a look of deep bewilderment crossing her face. She looked to me for help. I shrugged. All of a sudden battle plans and Cold-charged inventions seemed much easier than dealing with children.
Cam reached out and put a hand on Niles’ cheek. The kid went rigid, bowing into a slave position. It nearly broke my heart.
‘I have a new promise,’ Cam said, wiping away the tear. ‘Right from the Crier Himself! You believe me, right?’
The whole group of children went quiet, the whimpering and worry all but disappearing. Their attention was rapt.
They had no choice but to believe Cam, as listening to Nobles was promise number three.
I curled my hands into fists, the bronze fingers wrenching out a nasty squeak. I’d been working tirelessly through the nights, and I’d forgotten to oil the joints.
Cam gestured for Split to give him the old book and he flipped to a random page, pointing with a finger at new picture. His face lit up.
‘Aha,’ Cam said, clearing his throat. ‘Schelmes herrer ada adamnaths shilustus. Promise granat schloss. Yep, here’s the answer to your question, children. Right from the Crier Himself.’
My head tilted with curiosity.
Split read the children stories in Ancient Jadan in case we were ever able to bring it back, but unless Cam had been getting lessons, he didn’t know how to read the lost language. I had a strong feeling he was making the words up.
The children’s mouths were agape with wonder. Shilah’s was as well.
‘It says “I promise to love my new Jadan family,”’ Cam said, tapping the page, his cheeks going red. His eyes were buried in the text.
‘I promise to love my new Jadan family,’ the kids repeated.
It was an eerie sort of chant, monotonous and severe.
Cam looked over to Shilah. He thrust out his bottom lip and gave her an agreeable nod. Her face was caught in a complex flurry of emotions.
All of a sudden I felt the urge to study the wall, a knot in my stomach.
‘Hchhemesh lethat Meshua,’ Cam read. ‘I promise to listen to Meshuas.’
The kids didn’t hesitate. Their chant was even more monotone this time. ‘I promise to listen to Meshuas.’
Split’s mouth curled into a wry grin as he scratched Picka behind the ears. ‘Yes of course,’ he said in a leading way. ‘That promise. Good memory, Camlish.’
Shilah leaned over and whispered into Cam’s ear. Cam bristled.
‘Rhth nuath schelsmon loh esh,’ Cam read. ‘I promise that I’m worthy.’
The kids became confused, tripping over themselves to get the words out. It was a contradiction to everything they’d been taught. Watching them try to make sense of such a thing was like watching a scorpion trying to sting itself.
Cam tapped the page. ‘It’s right here. “I promise that I’m worthy.” It’s from the Crier, so you kids might as well promise it.’
‘Worthy?’ Juniss asked. ‘But we’re not worthy. The Priests told us we’re not.’
Cam gave an innocent shrug. ‘I guess you are now. The Crier must have left these new promises for you to find here in the Sanctuary. It’s like a game. And I bet you there’s a bunch more of the promises to find. Right Split?’
Split nodded. ‘Absolutely. And more stories too. Do you kids want to hear about the beetle and the honey jar again?’
The kids giggled and clamored their ‘yesses’ and settled back in like everything was normal. Cam handed the book back to Split and then came to stand at my side.
‘How’d I do?’ he asked out of the corner of his mouth.
Cam was still taller than me, but I was closing the gap. I slapped him on the back. ‘I promise to never doubt you again.’
I nodded to the hallway, beckoning for Shilah to join, and the three of us left Split to his lessons, closing the door just as the Pedlar was describing the beetle’s insatiable sweet tooth. The Jadans of the past had given wild personalities to the animals of the world. I enjoyed listening to Split tell the stories just as much as the children, but we had more pressing work at hand.
‘So I checked with Dunes this morning,’ I said leading them through towards the balcony. ‘He said there weren’t any Frosts in the Suth Manor either—’
‘What was that, Cam?’ Shilah asked, cutting me off.
Cam didn’t slow his pace. ‘What was what?’
‘New promises?’ Shilah asked, toying with her braid. ‘That was ingenious. I went blank and you figured out how to calm them down. And your Ancient Jadan has become very authentic-sounding.’
She winked and Cam blushed, giving her a flimsy shrug.
‘I have to pull my weight somehow,’ Cam said
‘This from the same Camlish who accidentally set fire to that stack of boilweed in the kitchens three days ago?’
Cam chuckled. ‘When are you going to let that go? I told you. That wasn’t my fault. I thought I heard Cleave behind me.’
‘You always think Cleave is behind you,’ Shilah said, shaking her head, her smile wild.
Cam threw his hands up. ‘Can you blame me? He walks like a shadow.’
‘He’s harmless. To us at least.’ Shilah nudged Cam with an elbow. ‘Unlike that whiptail scarab that definitely fell on your nose in the courtyard.’
‘It was real,’ Cam said. ‘It was on me!’
‘It was a freckle,’ Shilah said, laughter pinching her lips.
‘I think I know my own freckles.’ Cam pointed down along his elbow. ‘This one is Bart. And this is Mordechah. And these twin Freckles are Ellia and Ellcia. Just don’t tell the sisters I named freckles after them.’
I hadn’t heard about the boilweed fire or the freckle spider. I’d been confined to the tinkershop all week, working on the new Idea to try and crack Flight. Without a Frost, the skies were our only chance of survival.
‘So I was saying,’ I cut in. ‘Dunes said the Five scoured the Suth Manor and still found no Frosts. If any Frosts were in the city, then the High Nobles are taking them as they leave.’
‘But we’re finding all sorts of other Cold, right?’ Cam asked. ‘Even Chills?’
‘Yes,’ I said begrudgingly.
‘And all of our new Flock are bringing the Cold here?’
‘Yes,’ I said.
‘And the Five uncovered a practical mountain of Cold when they raided the Tavor Manor?’
I nodded.
‘That all sounds good to me,’ Cam said. ‘Especially since the Tavor Cold technically belonged to my father, and taking it away from him feels wonderful.’
‘Yes,’ I said, practically a whisper now.
‘Micah, what is it?’ Shilah asked.
We passed a trio of older Domestics hobbling down the stairs slowly, all who stopped to bow. Their red-rimmed eyes began to water and their hands went over their hearts. One of them looked like she might stop breathing, overtaken by awe.
‘Meshua,’ the oldest-looking one said, her hair grayer than even Old Man Gum – the mad loon who babbled back in my childhood barracks, always about how ‘they put it in the ground’ – and her face as wrinkled as a Sobek lizard.
‘We are saved because of you,’ she continued. ‘Bless the Crier for the gift of his two beautiful children.’
Cam backed out of the way, flattening against the wall. A tender look softened his face.
‘Hello,’ I said with a meek wave, still rather uncomfortable with such reverence. ‘Thank you.’
Shilah put a hand under the oldest woman’s chin and raised the wrinkled face up to her own. They exchanged a powerful glance, full of something I didn’t quite understand. Something feminine and strong and possibly even magical.
‘It’s the other way around,’ Shilah exclaimed, grabbing her hand and squeezing. ‘You have lived long and bravely, and showed us our people can survive anything. You give us hope, Mothers.’
The oldest woman began shaking with emotion. She kissed Shilah’s hand, gave me a low bow, with her poor back cracking in a dozen places, and their group tottered along.
‘What’s wrong,’ I said, taking the stairs two at a time, ‘is how terrible those children have been treated.’
‘I know,’ Shilah said. ‘We just need to think, and come up with things like Cam’s promises. We’ll get them to come around.’
Cam looked like he was going to spill over with happiness.
Shilah squeezed his lower back. ‘You did good, Freckles.’
‘Even if we find all the Cold in the City of David’s Fall,’ I blurted. ‘It won’t be nearly enough.’
‘It will keep everyone here alive,’ Shilah said. ‘And that’s something.’
‘For now,’ I said. ‘And I appreciate you keeping everyone’s spirits up. But you know as well as I do what’s coming.’
‘It won’t be like last time.’
‘Why wouldn’t it be?’ I fired back.
‘Because,’ Shilah said, ‘it’s different. We know more now.’
‘Things are only different because of the Coldmaker,’ I said, checking for Leah. She usually followed me whenever I was outside of the tinkershop, and I wasn’t in the mood to deal with her. ‘And the Coldmaker doesn’t work anymore. It’s broken, dammit. It made its final abb last night. The Frost is gone.’
Shilah stopped in her tracks, only showing surprise for a moment. Then she shook her head. ‘The Coldmaker is not broken, it’s just incomplete. And the machine isn’t even the most important thing. What’s more important is the feeling that our people have now. Remember, Jadans outnumber Nobles in the Khatdom three to one and—’
‘But the amount of weapons they have outnumber us a hundred to one,’ I said. ‘And their training for battle and ruthlessness outnumbers us a thousand to one. I’m not the only Inventor in the Khatdom, either. The Pyramid will have things – send things – that we won’t understand. The Khat is going to strike hard and we’re not going to be prepared.’
We rushed into the high hallway and made our way towards the balcony.
‘Micah, slow down,’ Shilah said. ‘Let’s talk about this.’
I kept walking, shouldering through the doors and out into the morning air. The Sun’s light slapped me in the face like sizzling coals. I sucked in a gasp. The heat was greater this high up, on the top plateau of the city, making the air thick and hard to swallow.
I walked to the edge of the balcony. I could see the scorch marks from the ropes across the stone.
‘Look,’ Cam said, pointing outwards to the eastern gates of the city, far below the plateaus, on dune level. ‘More Nobles leaving.’
The fleeing caravan was smaller than usual. I doubted there were many Nobles still even left in the city. They’d been evacuating since we had taken the Sanctuary, more of them fleeing every day.
As we stepped into clear view on the balcony, a smattering of cheers and prayers were sent our way. Word of our appearance caught on amongst the tents and blankets, and soon enough the moat below was flooded in holy gestures and falling tears.
There were more newcomers than yesterday. The Jadans around the city were taking shelter around the Sanctuary, all so they could be close to ‘Meshua’.
Shilah and I had sent word that we had enough Cold and food for everyone in the city. Our stores were plentiful, our water wells deep, and the fig trees in the courtyard stout and healthy. Samsah and some of the Builders were doling out rations by the gates, but with so many Jadans in the City of David’s Fall we couldn’t last indefinitely under siege. Especially if the Khat still had access to Desert.
I waved two knuckles at the caravan carts.
Cam did the same.
‘How’s it coming along, by the way, Micah?’ Cam asked gently. ‘Flight.’
Shilah shot him a warning look.
‘What?’ Cam asked under his breath. ‘I was just asking.’
‘Nothing new yet,’ I said, my mind immediately turning over my possible solutions. None of them seemed promising. ‘But I’ll let you know.’
‘Can we help at all?’ Cam asked.
I shook my head. ‘It’s something I have to figure out on my own.’
Shilah bopped me on the head.
‘No you don’t,’ Shilah said. ‘You’re just being stubborn.’
I sighed. ‘Fine. Please help. I do need it. I’m running out of ideas.’
Shilah examined her fist. ‘Hmm. Maybe Juniss was on to something.’
Just then the Five shot out from behind the nearest Cry Temple and careened across the moat, marching in between all the new kneelers. The cheering immediately died down at the sight of the hulking figures.
Each one of the Five carried a large bag that would be filled with Cold. Jia had a second sack tied around his waist, jiggling along with his stomach. I was quite confident it was another large batch of candied figs.
The Five stopped at the bottom of the balcony and lined up. Dunes kept his eyes on the ground, which let me know the answer before I even asked the question.
‘Didn’t find any Frosts?’ I asked, heart already sinking.
‘No,’ Dunes said, his chin still tucked against his chest. ‘The Erridian Manor was bare. But we found plenty of Cold. And something … else.’
That piqued my attention.
‘What is it, Dunes?’ Shilah asked.
Dunes glanced over his shoulder. The hundreds of Jadans in the expanse were paying close attention. All eyes were on the Five. A blare of heat seared down from the sky, as if the Sun were watching closely as well.
‘I’d rather show you in private,’ Dunes called up. His voice was just loud enough to reach my ears.
I nodded, gesturing back to the hallway inside.
Dunes broke rank and rushed around the building.
‘And the tunnels?’ I called out to the remaining Four. ‘How are they coming?’
Het drew a ward over his chest, but he wouldn’t meet my eyes. ‘Dozens of Builders working diligently at your command.’
‘Good,’ I said. ‘Make sure they all get plenty of Cold water.’
‘Consider it done,’ Kasroot called up, looking at his hands as if they’d been dragged through a rubbish heap.
‘Micah, Shilah, Camlish!’ Jia called up, wiggling the bag on his hip. ‘I brought you Khatmelons. Ripe and juicy! Plumper than the Khat, and all the tenderness that’s missing from his heart.’
He spoke in gracious tones, as jovial as always, but there was something different about Jia. A third thing, besides the Cold and figs, weighed him down. It showed in his eyes and his posture and his voice. It pulled heavy, and for a moment, he looked just as tired and scared as all the other Jadans in the moat.
‘Thanks, Jia,’ I said, cocking my head slightly. ‘Why don’t you share them with the rest of the family out there?’
Jia looked around, his cheeks beginning to sag. Soon enough his expression matched his demeanour. He opened the Khatmelon bag and waved it around, but no one dared step closer to him. If anything, they retreated.
‘My people,’ I called out. ‘Remember the Five are not Hookmen anymore! They’re just as Jadan as the rest of us.’
Heads nodded with assent. No one looked particularly assured.
‘Yes of course, Meshua!’
‘Thank you, Meshua!’
‘Bless you, young tears!’
I gave a wave dismissing the Five, and then went back inside to meet Dunes.
‘What do you think he found?’ Cam asked. ‘It didn’t look like he was carrying anything other than his Cold bag.’
‘Maybe he found out some sort of secret,’ Shilah said. ‘About Langria.’
Cam gave her an astonished look.
‘What?’ she asked.
‘Nothing,’ Cam said. ‘It’s just that you don’t talk much about Langria anymore. Not as much as you used to.’
‘I think for me, Langria was always the only path to freedom. I didn’t know that we might find another way out of the Drought, with flight.’
‘If I can figure it out,’ I said.
Shilah nodded. ‘We. If we can. You’re not alone.’
‘Did you see their expressions?’ I asked. ‘They looked terrified. I have a bad feeling.’
‘We can’t let everything rattle us,’ Shilah said. ‘But I saw it too.’
Soon enough Dunes was padding up the stairs inside the Sanctuary, his footfalls all but soundless. He stopped in front of me and lowered with respect.
‘You know you don’t have to bow,’ I said, my throat clenching up. I couldn’t take the suspense. ‘We’re equals.’
‘A bow is not always subservient,’ Dunes said. He was oddly cold in his movements. It was like a light had gone out inside of him, so dim it was almost extinguished.
I could tell he didn’t want to share what he found, and I didn’t want him to either. The air between us grew tense and paralysing. The empty walls, dust lining the spaces where Jadan portraits once hung, pressed inward. I felt the rug under my feet start to tilt, the floor unbalanced, and while I could still hear the chants of ‘Meshua’ outside, they had never sounded less true.
‘So what did you find?’ Shilah asked finally.
‘Cheese?’ Cam added. ‘Cheese that didn’t get mushy from heat on your way here?’
‘Be serious, Cam,’ I said.
Dunes took a piece of folded parchment from his pocket, holding it out. His hands trembled. The self-inflicted cuts on his wrist had healed nicely, so the shaking wasn’t from that.
‘It’s exactly as you feared,’ Dunes said. ‘The Nobles are not fleeing the city because they’re scared. They’re fleeing because of these letters. I’m surprised it took us this long to find one, but I imagine the enemy doesn’t want us to know their reasons.’
For once I hadn’t wanted to be right. The parchment was thick and official-looking, with the Khat’s seal on the front. Shilah unfolded it slowly.
‘What’s it say?’ Cam asked.
‘For all of my chosen,’ Shilah read slowly. She seemed ill at ease as well, and I wondered if we were going to collapse together. ‘Abandon the city at once, for the Crier has spoken. He shall punish the Jadan filth in the way of their wretched ancestors.’ She paused, her face hardening at the edges. ‘The second Fall is coming.’
She looked me in the eyes, something sharing between us. Something that no one else could feel. We were the two that had chosen this fate for our people, and any retribution would belong to us. We could no longer pretend this wasn’t life or death.
The Khat wasn’t just coming with an army.
He was coming to burn us all alive.