The boy tossed a handful of food into the cage for the Loonchin.
The creature ignored the food, its attention going back to the Draft instead. It dragged its tongue across the Cold, leaving a thin scar across the brown surface, and then once again fit its forked tongue around the grass. Rubbing up and down, the lonely song continued.
‘I love animals,’ the boy said. ‘They’re my best friends.’
I looked at Leroi, my face locked in surprise. Leroi seemed just as confused, turning his palms up and shaking his head.
The boy put his tongue against the iron bar and giggled. He walked to the next enclosure, which had a group of small green slimy animals grouped in a murky puddle, their throats puffing out. The boy took a pinch of grittier food from one of the bucket slots and tossed it in, wiping his palm on his dirty shirt. The green animals hopped to the food with powerful back legs, muddy water splashing up from behind.
Sinniah slowly took a dagger off her belt, pointing it at the boy’s back.
‘No,’ I hissed to her. ‘He’s just a kid.’
‘He says he’s Khat,’ Sinniah said, blood in her eyes. ‘If this Khat—’
‘Leroi, what do you know about this?’ I asked.
Leroi started blubbering. ‘I don’t – there were never any – I didn’t know any rumours—’
The boy began skipping down the cages, tossing food past bars and over panes of glass. He seemed to have forgotten we were there. He giggled with his throws, laughing and smiling at the animals.
‘The Crier’s might upon his name,’ the boy began singing. ‘Worthy of the Cold. Dynasty forever, service for your soul!’
The boy stopped, glancing back at me. He had a confused look, as if he were seeing me for the first time.
‘I like your skin and hair,’ the boy said. ‘Can I touch you?’
I nodded, hunching down. The boy gently set down his bucket and side-stepped towards me. Reaching out his small fingers, he traced the skin on my arm and then touched my hair.
‘Oh. That’s great,’ the boy said, giggling. ‘I like it.’
‘What do you mean, you’re the Khat?’ I asked him.
‘My daddy went up in the sky last year,’ the boy said, digging his fingers into the roots of my hair. His stubby nose wrinkled in curiosity. ‘So I’m the Khat now. Nad says so.’
I turned to Leroi. His expression was distant.
‘The Khat died?’ I whispered to Leroi, mostly just moving my mouth.
Leroi’s face was still. ‘I don’t know. There was no word—’
‘Do you know where is Nad?’ the boy asked, gently, his fingers moving to the numbers tattooed on the back of my neck. ‘Hey. What kind of animal are you?’
‘We not animals,’ Sinniah hissed. ‘We Jadans, you little monst—’
I waved Sinniah away. Obviously the boy didn’t mean any harm.
The little Khat nodded. ‘Daddy used to tell me about Jadans.’
‘What did he say?’
The boy swallowed hard, shaking his head. His face flushed with fear as he looked down at his bucket, not making eye contact with anyone.
‘I’m Micah,’ I said. ‘What’s your name?’
‘Vivus,’ the boy answered, still rather tense. ‘I’m the Khat now, but I wish I had a brother, though. I asked daddy, but daddy said no.’
I looked to Leroi to make sense of this.
Leroi stroked his goatee, which had grown long and haggard. He more mumbled to himself than me. ‘I guess it’s possible. I haven’t actually seen the Khat in a long time.’
‘Okay, Vivus,’ I said. ‘If your daddy is up in the sky now, do you know who is at the City of David’s Fall? They say the Khat is there.’
The boy shook his head and then went back to pick up the food. He gestured to the next cage. ‘I have to feed them. Do you want to feed them with me?’
Sett watched the boy through incredulous eyes. The other warriors wore conflicted expressions. Fingers ran over blades. Hands squeezed handles. The only Langrian who wasn’t overtly considering killing this child and ending the line of tyrants was Ellora. She appeared worried and sombre, leaning on her elbow so it would brush Leroi.
I stepped in between the boy and the warriors.
The Khat or not, he was just a child. If I let any harm come to him, I was poison.
‘Absolutely, I want to feed them with you,’ I said. ‘But Vivus, I need to ask you something. I’m looking for a Frost. Do you know if there are any Frosts down here with the animals?’
The boy wouldn’t meet my eyes as he spoke.
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I have a Frost. I am the Khat, you know.’
He made it sound like he just had a single Frost, but at least it held a ring of hope.
‘It’s for the animals, though,’ the little Khat said.
‘Where is it?’ I asked.
The boy laughed, rubbing his stomach.
‘I don’t understand,’ I said.
He grabbed my hand and began pulling me down the rows of cages. The warriors parted, their hands behind their backs. I could only imagine the plans they were conceiving.
‘Blessed be their master’ – the little Khat had begun singing – ‘who keeps them from the sands. His holiness the Khat.’
I recognized what he was singing as the Khat’s Anthem. I’d been made to sing that song every day of my life as a Street Jadan. Being led through a chamber full of extinct animals with the very Asham the song was about was a little too much for me to take.
The world had surprised me yet again. How little truth I actually knew.
I spotted at least a dozen other species in the cages we passed. Young animals huddled beneath their parents, appraising us with big, fearful eyes.
The little Khat kept up his pace. His palm was sweaty against mine. Over my shoulder I saw the warriors following us closely. They kept in battle formation.
Many of the animals hooted and chittered and howled as we passed.
Soon we came to a section of the room proving to be the loudest of them all. The corner was stocked with dozens of cages, all of them with a spindly metal mesh for covering. The spaces between the bars were so tight that thoughts would probably have to fold themselves in half to pass through. But noise seemed to be having little trouble escaping; if only the same could be said for the creatures inside.
Chattering and chirps filtered through the cages, only getting louder at our approach. These were truly desperate sounds. Not like the other animals, who seemed merely unhappy to be in the cages, the animals in this section of the chamber knew they didn’t belong down here. Their screams proved the stranglehold wickedness maintained over a merciless world.
Birds.
Dozens of them flitting from one side of their cage to the other.
They looked just like Matty’s sculpture had predicted. They had tiny beaks, thin legs and small eyes like beads on fancy bracelets.
And feathers. So many feathers.
Angry reds, deep blues and yellows so bright they hurt my eyes. The birds tried to stretch their wings as they hopped from perch to perch inside the cages, grinding their beautiful feathers against the bars. The bottoms of the cages were lined with shredded fluff, white dung and broken dreams. These magnificent creatures had been stripped of their gift. These were chains I knew quite well.
The little Khat led me right up to the stacks, holding my hand. I nearly fainted once again. It was too much.
My hand went to my chest. My heart was an echo of the despair, too sensitive to their pain. Too sensitive to the loss of their potential. Perhaps there really was a bird hiding in my Meesh-Dahm, pecking at my ribs and yelling for me to do something.
The little Khat picked up a different food container sitting in front of the cages. This one had tiny seeds and grains. He took a handful from the mix and scattered the food into the cages. The birds ignored it, still uselessly trying to squeeze through the metal. They knew it was impossible, yet still they tried, snapping at each other, pushing each other down, turning the anger inward.
One bird remained at the bottom of its cage. Above, the other birds scrambled and fluttered, but this bird was calm and still. Its wings were tucked around its body, smooth and without fraying. Feathers the colour of alder made it appear darker than the other birds. It had a long curved beak, which it rested against its body.
The bird stared right at me.
Something moved in my Meesh-Dahm.
‘Why is that one at the bottom, Vivus?’ I asked, rubbing my fist over my heart.
The little Khat threw another handful of seed into the cages, ignoring me. The food got stuck in feathers and he giggled as he watched the birds peck it off their bodies. He went to throw another batch, but I gently placed my bronze fingers on his wrist.
‘Vivus,’ I said, ‘why is that one at the bottom?’
Again he wouldn’t meet my eyes. ‘What one?’
‘The red one.’
‘That’s a ibis. She’s broke.’
‘Broke?’
The little Khat held out his arms, flapping them. But he left a crook in his elbow, letting that arm struggle. Then he threw in more seed, gently striking the birds.
I locked eyes again with the ibis. I couldn’t tell at first, but now I could see that its left wing didn’t look right. For some reason, it struck me as one of the saddest things I’d ever seen. Not only was she in a cage, but she wouldn’t be able to fly, even if she were free.
The ibis stared at me calmly. Its chest rose and fell with small breaths.
‘Meshua,’ Sett called from behind. ‘Is beautiful bird, but …’
I swallowed, tearing myself away from the cage. Then I put my hand on the little Khat’s shoulder. ‘Vivus, what about the Frost?’
The little Khat sighed and grabbed my hand again. He led me on through the chamber, the warriors keeping close behind. They kept getting distracted by all the cages, and so their movements were not nearly as smooth.
Eventually the little Khat led me around a bend and the room opened up.
‘This is the animal well,’ he said proudly.
At the end of the path was an impressive well. Instead of of normal red brick, this was built with solid gold. The sleek sheen caught the light of a half-dozen Sinais placed around the well’s perimeter, glowing impressively bright.
A Closed Eye rested on a pike next to the well. It too was made of gold.
The warriors began to close in on the little Khat from all sides. Sinniah had her spear pointed at the base of his spine. I waved them off. Sinniah’s eyes narrowed, dark thoughts clear in her expression.
The little Khat tugged me closer to the water. A golden stool waited next to the well, and the boy kicked off his muddy sandals before stepping up.
‘Look,’ he said, pointing down over the rim.
I stepped closer and peered inside. The water was dark, but at the very bottom I could just make out a soft golden glow. I thought at first it might be the reflection from the well itself, but after my eyes adjusted I could see the distinct three-line symbol of a Khol, although it was quite faint and distant.
Hope and despair grabbed me at the same time.
One Frost. Only one, but it was better than nothing.
‘Down there,’ the little Khat whispered conspiratorially, covering his mouth.
‘What’s it doing down there?’ I asked.
The little Khat reached up to the Closed Eye on the pike and flipped open the lid. Inside was a golden bowl in place of the pupil. The bowl came away with a long golden chain. The little Khat lowered it down into the water. The chain moved slowly, obviously balanced with weights beneath.
The warriors began to advance again, but I halted them with a scathing look.
The little Khat drew up the bucket full of water, giggling at the whirring sound the chain made. He put the golden bowl on the rim and scooped up some water in his palm.
‘For you to drink,’ he said sweetly. ‘Micah.’
His palms were dirty. Still I didn’t hesitate, bringing my lips down and tasting the water.
Cold.
Not the Coldest thing I’d ever felt – not like water with abbs and Ice inside – but a different sort of Cold. A deeper, purer sensation. My lips and tongue tingled, but not from the temperature, and not from going numb. It was the opposite in fact. They tingled with life; with memory; with potential.
I nearly fainted.
I wasn’t prepared.
Something inside of me was being shaken loose, roused from a nightmare. A soft joke from my father. A touch of comfort felt in an otherwise lonely room.
The little Khat emptied the rest of the bowl into my face, tossing it with glee.
My whole upper body exploded with life.
The boy laughed. ‘It’s good, right!’
I gasped, speechless as the water dripped under my shirt. It felt like old scars were being smoothed back to skin. I looked under the cloth to see if that was the case, but the scars were still there. The sensation was all in my mind.
‘I don’t—’ I choked. ‘How?’
The little Khat grabbed my hand again. He looked up at me with big, soulful eyes. ‘I like you. Will you be my friend?’
‘Yes,’ I said, still shaken. My teeth began to chatter. ‘Do you want to meet everyone else? They can be your friends too, if you want.’
The boy looked afraid at first, but eventually nodded.
I called out to the warriors. Thankfully they dropped their weapons before I had to ask. They came up and introduced themselves. The boy didn’t reach out to touch any of them, but he seemed open to their presence now that they were unarmed. Sinniah was not pleased, but Sett kept a hand on her lower back, which seemed to do the trick. The little Khat nodded and smiled at his feet, blushing as he repeated each of their names.
Leroi was last to come up. The boy relaxed, staring at his fair skin.
‘Vivus,’ I said, ‘can my friends try the water?’
The boy began picking his nose; then he nodded.
One by one, the Langrians touched a finger into the bowl and then brought it to their lips. Their faces lit. They weren’t alone in the feeling.
‘I don’t understand,’ I whispered to Leroi. ‘I didn’t think Frosts dissolve in water.’
Leroi tapped his lip, which was dry and close to bleeding. ‘Maybe they do very slowly. Or maybe they can give the water Cold just by their nature.’
‘Meesh-Dahm,’ Sett said with confidence.
My mind was swimming, scrutinizing the inner-workings of the Coldmaker. How much did I really know about Cold at all?
There would be time to explore the questions later. Right now the only thing that mattered was getting that single Khol into the ground. Planting it in Jadans’ Rise and creating a new Cry Patch. I didn’t see any more Khol anyway – fake or otherwise – but at least we had a start.
‘Vivus,’ I asked. ‘We need to borrow the Frost.’
Vivus shook his head. ‘Oh, no. It’s for the animals. You can’t have it. Daddy said that it keeps the animals alive. They need it.’
‘Meesh-Dahm,’ Sett whispered, looking around at the cages.
I paused, trying to think of what to do. We could just take the Khol, as there was really not much the little Khat could do to stop us. And a single new Cry Patch might be enough to at least stop the Second Fall.
I could jump into the well, swim to the bottom and save my people.
I steeled myself.
I would never let any harm come to the boy, but I couldn’t spare his feelings. This was war.
The little Khat slipped back into his sandals, looking like he might run.
‘There could be alarm,’ Sinniah said, raising her spear. ‘We can’t let—’
I had to make a decision quickly. Every moment’s delay was a chance for an Asham Priest to stumble across Bear, or the dead guards, or Nad. We had to get the Khol and get the Mattys back into the sky.
‘I—’
The little Khat slid the stool up the Closed Eye pike. He carefully took his sandals off again and stepped on top. Putting the bowl in place beneath the lid, he closed the lid and then began to twist the whole eye. The boy’s soft hands struggled, but soon the pole rotated. Gears and pulleys made themselves known with sounds beneath the stone.
‘Is alarm,’ Rivvy gasped, looking around.
Zeekah covered her ears.
‘No,’ I said, my heart thundering. ‘I don’t think so.’
The little Khat finished twisting the eye, locking it in place.
The floor began to open.
Around the cages and down the rows of cages, discs of stone rolled to the side. Waves of impossible Cold flooded the chamber.
The animal sound got louder. The warriors jerked their attention to the spots in the floor opening up, their hands instinctively grasping for weapons.
The little Khat tugged my hand.
‘But you can have any of those,’ he said. ‘They’re mine.’
I looked around the chamber, too astonished to speak.
The secret holes were all lined in steel and rimmed in thin layers of Ice. Mist drifted out of their shadows.
Because of Khol.
Hundreds of them.
They were packed together tightly in each space. There were more Khol than I could fathom. Enough Khol to put the world back to how it was before the Drought a dozen times over. The golden Cold pulsed with relief, as if glad to be released from their cells.
My jaw dropped.
My heart leapt.
Now I understood why the chamber was so cool. Now I understood how the animals were still alive.
‘These are mine,’ the little Khat said again, thumbing his chest. ‘Because I’m the Khat. But you’re my friends, so they’re yours too, because I say so.’
I smiled, putting my hand on the little Khat’s shoulder.
The boy finally met my eyes. They were a startling blue.
‘Family,’ he whispered.
I went to the nearest secret hole, getting on my knees and touching the topmost Khol.
‘Is real?’ Sett asked.
My hand shook. I brought my fingers to my lips and tasted salvation.
I turned to the warriors.
‘Grab as many as you can.’