I landed the Matty two streets away from the secret entrance, just in case the Asham were watching. I couldn’t give away the location to the Coldmarch cavern just yet. The Asham needed to see the falling Cold to know the absolute, irrefutable truth of the new world.
I capped the Desert and the Matty landed gently enough. I threw off my mask, and did something that I’d been waiting a long time to do.
I had made a promise, and it was time to honour it.
I opened the lips of the Coldmaker bag, undid the bronze Belisk puzzle box lid, and stared into the empty chamber of salted water. I thought back to the Little Khat’s animals and once again I was filled with new questions.
I wasn’t afraid of them, however. Questions were the beating heart of inventing.
Maybe the beating heart of everything.
I took one of the new Khol from my stash and put it in Coldmaker. It fit perfectly. I closed the lid with a deep sigh of relief. Then I turned the machine on.
I put my ear up to the machine to listen to the effect. I’d missed that hum.
Inside of the bronze was something I might never understand, but it was something I could use; something that I would always hold sacred and dear.
I was going to make as many Coldmakers as I could.
I would teach the new world about the discovery, and what it had meant for the end of the Drought. Hopefully one day, many years from now, a free Jadan would tinker with my design and figure out more answers, the deep and profound mysteries of Cold that I would never be able to uncover. The future was full of so many wondrous things, so many adventures and discoveries.
I could barely wait.
A golden bead formed at the catch point of the machine. After it grew to a respectable size, I turned the Coldmaker off and pulled the abb loose, putting it in my pocket.
Gale watched me from her perch. I smiled, blowing a steady breath over her red wings. She roused, opening her feathers, and I think she smiled too. I lifted her up and settled her in the boilweed nest. I wanted to take her with me, but if I ran into any enemies or surprises, I might not have been able to protect her.
‘Keep quiet,’ I said, giving her feathers a pat.
She cooed and nuzzled my hand with her bill.
I covered the nest lightly with silk, and then stepped out of the cart. I slung the Coldmaker bag over one shoulder, and a canvas bag holding a single Khol over the other.
I removed my sandals and took great pleasure in finding that the sand and rocks were quite cool now. The golden hue had travelled throughout Jadans’ Rise, lightly tinging even the bottom plateau. Though the colour was barely visible, it proved the Khol had more power than the Desert.
I ran down the streets towards the secret entrance to the Coldmarch tunnels, wanting to shout out and announce my arrival. But I had to keep composed.
Until the Crying tonight, I was just a regular Jadan in the eyes of the Asham. There could have been Khatfists and taskmasters waiting and watching through any one of the shop windows. I doubted they would have remained in a burning city, but I couldn’t take any chances. Not this close to the end.
I slipped through the secret door and into the Coldmarch tunnels. There was no sign of life, but the tunnel was long and the flock was most likely scared. They wouldn’t know that the Second Fall was over before it started, and they’d be doing everything they could not to make a sound.
I shot down the dark passageway without worry. My feet knew the way.
I took the second bend and found the staircase, carefully stepping down. When I got to the bottom, a flickering light called to me in the distance. It was coming from the main Coldmarch chamber.
The flock was still alive.
They must have been terrified.
I hurled myself at a reckless speed, the edges of the Coldmaker digging into my hip as I ran. My feet slapped against the cool stone. I finally crossed the threshold.
And was welcomed by a face full of blades.
Dozens of swords and spears were raised, ready to skewer me. My enemies were backlit by Sinai, and I could only see the sharp metal raised in my way. I stumbled back into the tunnel, panic in my heart.
And then I realized the shape of the weapons.
Hooked blades.
‘MESHUA!’ a most welcome voice called. ‘IT WAS HIM! I TOLD YOU! I TOLD YOU HE WAS BACK!’
Dunes dropped his blade and barrelled into the tunnel, wrapping me in his large arms. He was so strong that I couldn’t breathe, but I pressed my head into his chest and sighed with relief even without air.
I was home.
Whispers of Meshua rose from back in the chamber, spreading out and hesitantly growing. A happy bray that could only have been from Picka cut through the hush, her feet clomping against the ground.
Dunes finally let me go, checking me all over for wounds. He prodded my muscles and checked in my hair until he was satisfied that I was whole.
‘We all thought you were dead,’ he said, words spilling out. ‘And the land was burning, but then when the cave began to cool down, I knew, I just knew it was somehow because of you, and – are you hurt? What can I bring you for your return? I will get you anything in the World Cried!’
I laughed, feeling overwhelmed by seeing him again. ‘I know you would, Dunes. I’m glad to be back. But right now all I want is—’
Shilah and Cam burst around Dunes, nearly running straight into me. Cam’s jaw was so slack I imagined it might hang loose forever. Shilah didn’t look surprised, but rather radiated happiness.
An exhausted air hung about their bodies, dark circles lining their eyes. Shilah’s braid was loose and uneven. Cam’s hair was barely yellow anymore, matted with sweat. They stood so close that their arms were touching, and they were covered in dirt. They also had similar cuts and bruises along their arms and legs.
Cam launched forward and grabbed me in a hug. He started laughing, too close to a mad giggle. His whole body was shaking; whether from relief or fatigue I couldn’t tell. I gladly held my friend as he trembled and sobbed. The hilt of his sword scraped against the Coldmaker in my bag, but I imagined it wasn’t doing much harm.
‘Shivers. And. Frosts,’ Cam said when he finally calmed down. ‘You’re alive.’
‘I’m alive.’
Cam stood in front of me, frozen. He didn’t speak for a long moment, appraising me as if there was a chance I was a spirit.
Shilah kissed Cam on the cheek and then pushed him off to the side.
She took me in her arms and rested her hand against the back of my neck. Her hug wasn’t frantic, like Dunes and Cam, but rather she drew me in slowly and with purpose. Her body radiated heat. I had so many questions for her, so many things to share; for now I let myself relax in her embrace.
She rubbed the back of my neck. Not sensuous, but in a familial way. I’d never felt more comfort; not even when Abb used to hold me when I was a boy and sick.
‘I missed you too,’ I whispered into her neck.
‘It’s been really hard without you,’ she said. ‘I’ve been praying for this every second since you disappeared.’
‘So you pray now?’ I asked, smiling.
‘In you, World Partner,’ Shilah said, pressing her hand against my cheek. ‘I have faith.’
She stepped aside. In turn the Flock hugged me, kissed me, and chewed me out – although the rebuking was mostly by Split, who kept growling: ‘Don’t you ever leave like that again! Picka was so upset!’
Jia had candied figs ready.
Kasroot shook my hand, leaving a residue of groan soap. It was the first time we’d ever actually touched.
Cleave knelt before me, silent.
Het’s hands wouldn’t stop making words for a full minute straight.
Leah wrapped me up tighter than anyone, her curvy body clinging to me like she’d been dipped in glue. I had to work very hard to extricate myself from her, and she hung at my back during the rest of the greetings.
Ellia and Ellcia hugged me together after that, hissing ‘love you, priss’, into my ear.
Picka stood up on her hind legs, braying wildly. She tried to lick my face and succeeded.
Samsah pounded a fist against his chest, emotion in his eyes.
Everyone was here.
The rest of the Flock watched and whispered as I was showered with love. Everyone looked rather battered. There were too many scrapes, bloody lips and burn scars. There were weapons strewn about everyone.
‘So what’s happening here?’ I asked Shilah as Jia shoved another round of figs into my palm. ‘Were you planning on fighting your way out?’
‘Fight not Fall,’ Shilah said, turning to look back at the Flock. She drew her fingers down her right cheek. ‘FIGHT NOT FALL!’
The words passed through the rest of the Flock, chanted back and forth. Weapons raised and hands curled into firsts. Their sentiment echoed deeply off the stone walls and deep pool.
‘FIGHT NOT FALL.’
I gave Shilah an impressed look. ‘You’ve been busy.’
Shilah shook her head. ‘You first, Meshua. How’d you stop the burning? We looked everywhere for the Desert. But Sun-damned Ka’in and his masked bastards got one past us, and then it was too late.’
Dunes lowered his head in shame. ‘I’m sorry, Meshua. We looked everywhere, but the enemy did something different this time and—’
I smirked. ‘I didn’t find the Desert.’
Shilah put a hand on my shoulder. ‘Seriously. Where’d you find it? How’d you find it?’
I shook my head. ‘I didn’t find the Desert.’
Cam and Shilah exchanged a look, as if trying to decide who was going to ask where I’d left my sanity.
‘Meshua,’ Leah said from behind me in sultry tones, ‘if you show me the place you found the Desert, I will gladly write you a song and commemorate it.’
‘I’m telling you the truth. I didn’t find the Desert.’ I laughed. ‘That’s not how the burning stopped. I found something else.’
‘What?’ Cam asked, feeding off my grin, sprouting his own and nudging Shilah with an elbow. ‘Langria?’
‘Yes,’ I said.
Cam laughed, and then did a double-take. ‘Wait, for real?’
I nodded, opening the canvas bag I brought and taking out the Khol.
Cam and Shilah both gasped, and Cam thrust his hand into the air and shouted a victorious: ‘Yes! Tears above, YES! Does that mean you got the Coldmaker working again?’
I nodded, slapping a hand against the other bag.
Cam looked like he was about to freeze over with excitement. ‘We’ll have crossbows again. Abb crossbows.’
Shilah stepped forward and reached for the Khol.
‘Where’d you find it?’ she whispered, aghast.
‘The First Khat’s Pyramid,’ I said matter-of-factly. ‘Along with all sorts of animals that were supposed to be extinct.’
‘Spout,’ Shilah said slowly.
I bit my bottom lip, holding back a smirk. ‘I have a lot to tell you.’
‘Abb crossbows,’ Cam said, putting a hand on Shilah’s lower back. ‘I’m good with those suckers. And we can get the Wraiths working again. We might actually stand a chance in battle.’
‘There doesn’t have to be a battle,’ I said, tears stinging the corners of my eyes. ‘It’s over.’
Split grabbed my cheeks and bore deep into my eyes, checking for signs of slag or Dream. Picka’s eyes narrowed as well, and she gave a little huff.
‘What’s over, son?’ Split asked.
‘The Drought,’ I said, holding the Khol out for Dunes. ‘Take it. It’s real.’
Dunes shook his head, looking nervous.
‘Please,’ I said. ‘Take it through the cave. Let everyone touch it. Let everyone see it. They deserve to know just what the Khat’s been hiding all this time.’
Dunes bowed. ‘By your command.’
I passed the Khol over. ‘Also, the Khat’s dead.’
Dunes nodded without hesitation. ‘Yes, absolutely, Meshua. If you want the Khat dead, I will storm into his ceremonial tent like a Firegog and—’
‘No,’ I said, shaking my head. ‘The Khat is already dead.’
‘Micah,’ Cam said, swallowing hard, ‘what invention did I buy from the Ancient shop that one time? When we first met.’
‘A music box,’ I said, raising an eyebrow.
Cam nodded. ‘Mhhm. And how many humps were in the valley on the original Coldmarch.’
‘Three.’
Cam nodded again. ‘Mhmm. And have you gone insane?’
‘No,’ I said, grabbing his arm. ‘It’s over. The Drought is over. We were so close all this time. I finally stumbled on the answer in Langria.’
Shilah walked forward with her arms open, ready for another hug.
And then she bopped me on the head.
‘You went to Langria without me?’ She pointed to Cam, indignant. ‘Without us?’
I gave her a sheepish smile. ‘It was an accident.’
‘An accident?’ Her face was nearly shaking with anger, but there was humour cracking the tension. She was trying hard to hold back a laugh.
‘Sorry,’ I said with a shrug. ‘Trust me when I say Langria is not what you think. It’s far from paradise.’
‘That’s what I told you,’ Split said.
‘And you never told me Lizah was from Langria,’ I said to Split, raising my eyebrow.
Split choked, his eyes bulging out of his sockets.
‘Micah,’ Shilah said, holding my cheeks to get me to look her in the eyes, ‘how is the Drought over?’
‘They’re seeds. The Khol – Frosts, I mean, but the Langrians call them Khol. They’re seeds to grow Cry Patches, if they’re planted and a Jadan cries on them. And right now I have five planted inside and around the city. Come nighttime, Cold is going to fall here. For us. And the Nobles – the Langrians call them Asham – will have to admit that we are worthy and that the world has changed.’
Shilah stared at me for a long moment. Her back went straighter than ever.
And then she bopped me on the head again.
‘You planted Cry Patches without me! I’ve been here with Cam trying to keep hundreds of Jadans off the edge of the cliff, fighting Ka’in and the Nobles from sneaking in and stealing our people, scrambling to find all the Desert they put in the ground, and you went off and saved the world without me!’
I paused, unsure what to say.
And she laughed, winking and launching into another hug. This time she kissed me on the cheek as she held me close, her braid laying across my shoulder. ‘You really are Meshua.’
‘We both are,’ I said. ‘You kept the flock safe. You kept Cam safe.’
‘And, I mean,’ Cam said, ‘Shilah and I did get a few good moments while you were gone. Don’t let her tell you we had no fun at all.’
Shilah’s cheeks flushed with colour and she bopped him on the head next. ‘He doesn’t need to hear that!’
Cam laughed, teasingly rubbing the spot on his head. ‘Ow. I thought Spout said there wasn’t going to be a battle.’
Shilah turned to me, grabbing my hands in hers. ‘Tell me everything, right now. What was that about animals?’
‘Actually, everyone should hear this,’ I said.
Shilah took my arm and threaded it through hers, marching through our people, leading me to the dancing platform beside the pool. The huge Flock looked on with wonder and awe. I didn’t know all of their names, and there were new faces that I didn’t recognize – probably from the Beggars – but I knew that after this night they would each carry with them a powerful story the rest of their lives.
They would tell their children, and their children’s children, about the night the Great Drought ended. Of the two Meshuas. These words I was about to impart would be spoken of, and transcribed into scrolls, and passed down through generations. I almost asked Shilah to give the speech for me, as I was a tinkerer, not a speaker, and didn’t know how to make words sound important.
But I realized I didn’t need to make any grand speech.
I just had to tell them the truth.
And so I stepped up on the platform and told them everything. About Langria. About Khol. About Adaam and the first Cry Patch. About the Khat being dead, and the Little Khat being kept as a secret. About the animals. About Sett and the warriors flying off to the other cities with the Khol.
About how come night, Cold would once again be Cried for Jadankind.
I kept it simple and straightforward.
They hugged each other and dropped to their knees in sheer relief, tears flowing freely. I had Dunes pass around the Khol for every Jadan to cry on. They held it against their chests so they could feel the Meesh-Dahm pulsing for themselves, and although it was over far too fast, I’d never forget their expressions.
Freedom had always been a stranger, a face shrouded in distance. A song covered up by the sound of hungry stomachs.
We were all meeting freedom for the first time, as one.
Shilah broke from my arm, giving Cam a passionate kiss. She ran her hands wildly through his golden hair.
I was happy for them.
I was happy for everyone.
After things settled a bit, I took Shilah, Cam and Dunes with me back to the Matty to gather supplies. We agreed not to talk in case there were Asham still waiting in the city. We got to the craft, and Shilah took one look at Gale the ibis and actually shrieked in delight. I had to wrap my hand around her mouth to keep her quiet.
‘You found a bird without me too?’ she whispered when I freed her.
‘She’s an ibis,’ I said. ‘And her name is Gale.’
Shilah lifted her hand to bop me again, but then stopped at my cheek. She gently rubbed circles into my skin and then gave me a gentle pinch.
‘If only I didn’t love you so much, partner,’ she said.
I winked at Cam.
Cam smiled, reaching out for Gale. The ibis gently nipped at his knuckles but then climbed onto his wrist, tucking her neck into her feathers.
‘She likes me!’ Cam shouted, pointing frantically. ‘She doesn’t see me as a Noble! She—’
Shilah and I both shushed him at the same time.
We returned to the Coldmarch chambers with Gale and the Khol, and then broke out the last of the food. Dunes found a few barrels of ale, and we feasted for the rest of the night. The figs were so bountiful they seemed to regrow on their stems. The ale flowed so freely that the barrel seemed bottomless. We piled the Khol on the stage next to the Sacred Pool, holding hands and spinning around them. Shilah refrained from dancing, as she was too busy fawning over Gale the ibis. The bird took a liking to her, as well as to Picka, nestling up on the camel’s hump. Cam and I sang beautiful songs with older members of our Flock. Split finally showed us the traditional Crying Dance. Leah pulled out her harp and graced us with entrancing melodies for hours, plucking until her fingers nearly bled. Storytellers got up on stage after the music, regaling tales of small rebellions past, ones that I hadn’t even known about. Samsah told a particularly good story about a Builder named Hassin, who’d baked Ancient Jadan curses into the middle of Pyramid slabs.
All the while the Coldmaker hummed on the stage, making abb after abb. I’d put Split in charge of distributing the abbs, and he merrily dished out the golden beads to all the children in the Flock. So many children. They were the best dancers in the room.
But even with all the celebrations, all the family by my side, all the hope, I still felt an odd pang. I was here in the room, but I was also elsewhere. Maybe back at my barracks. Maybe Langria. I couldn’t tell for sure.
The world was saved, but my work wasn’t done.
When Dunes came back to the cave and announced that night had arrived, I felt a bit of relief.
‘Come on,’ I told everyone, grabbing the Coldmaker and putting it back in its bag. ‘It’s time to watch.’
We all held hands as we left the cave. Long links of Jadans traversed the tunnel, holding on to each other, moving as one.
Outside, the Sun was gone.
The stars were beginning to arrive, pricking away the darkness. We spilled out of the alleyways and into the streets, showing our numbers in all their glory. We marched up the plateaus, the long line keeping as tight as possible.
Gale nestled on my shoulder, every once in a while giving my hair an affectionate nip. Shilah kept trying to get the bird to climb over to her shoulder, but Gale stayed with me. It would be a lie to say I wasn’t flattered.
I touched the painted feather on the side as we passed the Matty. So did everyone behind me, silently and reverently. It was beautiful.
When we got high enough on the plateaus where the Asham could see us, they began to jeer so loudly that I could feel their hate all the way from the other side of the walls. There were horn blasts and explosive cheers and the armies began to sweep their way to the Southern side of the city, moving in dark clouds. They must have thought the Second Fall was about to happen. They were about to be sorely disappointed.
Shilah, Cam and I continued to hold hands up front, leading the charge.
Leah hovered right behind us, looking like she wanted to grab my hand too, to join in, but she kept her distance. I was grateful for her understanding.
I couldn’t help but notice from this height that the eyes made of golden light were no longer stark upon the sands. They’d faded, leaving behind only the faintest tinge of colour. I wasn’t worried. In fact, I was happy that the evidence was gone; it would only make the Crying that much more of a shock to the Asham.
We continued to climb the plateaus.
‘The City of the Jadans’ Rise,’ I said to Shilah. ‘Perfect.’
She squeezed my hand in agreement.
‘I still like Camland,’ Cam said with a shrug. ‘But I guess it’s not as punchy.’
Shilah pulled Cam close and poked him in the ribs. She left her hand on his chest, letting it linger.
The stone beneath us was cool and lovely, and before I knew it we’d climbed all the way to the top plateau. The Nobles far beneath us yelled and and shouted and cursed, continuing their celebration.
We just smiled.
They’d see the truth soon enough.
Eventually the entire Flock gathered where I’d planted the Cold, and everyone took turns pressing their hands against the holy spot, feeling the residual Meesh-Dahm.
The cheering of ‘Jump!’ and ‘Fall!’ and ‘Unworthy!’ could be heard in the distance, but the wind picked up, and the Asham were quickly drowned out. I looked up and gave the stars a sly wink.
And then we waited.
No speeches.
No battle.
No Cold.
The night was young.
The Nobles far below must have been confused, wondering how we could be enduring such heat. They snarled and lit fires, but we were untouchable so far above them.
We waited on. The night grew darker.
‘Listen,’ Split said, sidling up next to me, looking up at the stars. ‘It’s been eight hundred years, Micah. If for some reason this doesn’t work—’
‘It will,’ Shilah said by my side.
Split gave an agreeable cough. ‘I’m hoping as much as you, but just in case—’
‘It will,’ Cam said on my other side. ‘Work, I mean. It will work.’
Split bowed and then backed away, giving Picka a pat on her snout.
We waited.
Gale’s eyes grew tired, and she nestled close against my neck, cooing softly. I wished for her to be able to open her wings. I wished for her to fly up into the sky and caw out to the Crier. To tell Him that we were waiting.
The Five came up to me next.
Dunes knelt down at my feet. ‘We are prepared to do anything you need. Just tell us anything you need to help the Crier see us, and we will get it for you.’
I scoped the stars through the Farsight, trying to spot any new Cold. There was no movement. Only flickering light so far away.
I didn’t say anything.
‘It’s okay, Dunes,’ Shilah said, sensing my hesitation. ‘Everything is already in place. Just keep a watch over the perimeter. Ka’in and the Nobles’ – she looked at me – ‘the Asham, will probably be coming soon.’
Dunes bowed and the Five backed away.
Shilah turned to Cam. ‘I won’t call you Asham, though. Ever. I’ll call you something new.’
Cam lit up. ‘Handsome? Brave? Necessary for your continued happiness?’
Shilah smirked, taking his hand. ‘Keep dreaming.’
‘I will,’ Cam said with a smirk, gesturing down to their entwined fingers. ‘I must be.’
We waited.
The Flock grew visibly nervous. Sounds filtered from the walls below; of gates being opened; of steel boots crunching against stone.
The Asham armies were coming.
I went over to the spot where I’d planted the Khol. It was true that I didn’t know for sure if the Idea was going to work, my only proof being from an old Langrian story that might have been lost in translation; but still I didn’t feel any doubt. I’d been with the Khol during its win against the Desert. That experience spoke of something too big to simply stop there. My heart knew the Cold would come.
But my heart, just like all hearts, had been known to lie.
My heart had promised me that Abb would be by my side should a night like this ever come. My heart had told me that Shilah and I were going to be together; not Shilah and Cam. My heart had told me that a young, bright-eyed Jadan whose only crime was being on the small side, would get to live and grow into his smile. My heart had told me that the Crier was real, that He was watching, that He—
I sat down next to the spot where I’d buried the Khol. The Asham were coming. Without a miracle, we were to be slaughtered. This would be our end.
And worse, the Langrian warriors were flying around the Khatdom, burying Khol and proclaiming the world fixed, while nothing had actually changed. My people would start to believe, and then they would come crashing down once again. The mighty blow worse than if I’d done nothing at all.
The Khat, even in death, had won.
The Second Fall was to belong to the whole of Jadankind.
Running my hands over the land, I asked my fingers to stop trembling. They refused to listen. I found a small hole to still them in.
‘Please,’ I whispered. ‘Please.’
I looked up at the sky.
Nothing.
I closed my eyes and let out a defeated sigh.
There was nothing divine about the reaction. The Khol and Desert were simply at odds as materials, and they had nothing to do with Cold from the sky. The effect stopped at city.
I swallowed hard, dread stiffening my throat.
I’d never felt so small.
I went to pull my hand back from the hole.
But there was something small and solid there. Curious, I pinched my fingers together and pulled out a Wisp.
It was dull, brown and ordinary; just like any other Wisp in the World Cried.
Only I hadn’t put it there.
I stood up, the excitement rushing back.
I held the Wisp up towards my father.
‘This from you?’ I asked, madness making me shake. ‘IS THIS FROM YOU?’
Nothing.
Gale cooed softly.
A pause.
The air went still; like the plateau itself was holding its breath.
And the sky began to weep.
It was only a few falling Wisps at first. They streaked the air, catching glimpses of the starlight, and landed with little puffs in the sands near the hole.
The Flock erupted with cheers, everyone pointing at the falling Cold.
Some dropped to their knees. Some began to dance.
I made the Crying gesture down my cheek. So did Shilah. So did Cam.
‘Thank you,’ I whispered, touching the spot where the Wisp had come. ‘Thank you for everything.’
Shilah and Cam embraced, holding each other tightly.
More Wisps began to fall around us. Muted thumps came from around the Sanctuary moat as Wisps plummeted into tents. I scanned the surrounding plains. Soon enough there were little streaks in every direction. All around the City of Jadans’ Rise, Cold had once begun to fall.
‘Everyone!’ I shouted, taking Gale off my shoulder and holding her against my stomach, hunching over so she wouldn’t get struck. ‘Inside the Sanctuary!’
Confusion rang through the crowds, but Dunes and Jia were already rushing towards the Sanctuary doors to get them open. We filed in quickly, racing through the halls and gathering near the top balcony.
Shilah, Cam and I stepped out to the balcony, to the site of such terrible things in the past. The Flock came out behind us, packing tight under the overhang which covered our viewing platform. They kept switching out the rows so everyone could witness the Crying, and I heard many feet scamper off down the halls to find their own windows.
The awe was indescribable.
Wisps touched down everywhere: in the sands, on the roof above us, and even a few at the stone lip of the balcony, bursting into wonderful little puffs of Cold.
Each Wisp was a dagger in the Sun.
Each was a breath of freedom wind.
The Great Drought was over.
The Asham army didn’t take long to arrive.
Their force was smaller than I expected, perhaps only five hundred strong. They came with shields and swords and helmets, flanking the Sanctuary. Ka’in and the Vicaress led the charge.
A large portion of the ranks appeared frightened and confused, which would work in our favour. They kept glancing towards the Crying sky in awe: a feeling I was hoping would turn to peace. The world deserved peace. It was time for us all, Jadan and Asham alike, to rest and heal. Unlike with Inventing, a warrior’s work can sometimes be finished.
I hoped that the Asham would see the first new Cry Patches in eight centuries and naturally put down their weapons.
Ka’in had war in his eyes.
Shilah and I expected this possibility, that Ka’in wouldn’t be swayed. In the face of uncomfortable truth, some still chose the familiar lie.
Ka’in was a victim in all of this, and I would try to save him if I could.
The celebrating in the Sanctuary behind me had become solemn and silent at the sight of the army marching towards us. Everyone looked to Shilah and I with worry. The Asham just barely outnumbered us, but they were trained, and had superior weapons and armour. If they wanted to, they could storm the building and end us with minimal effort. Even with the Five on our side, we’d never win a true battle.
The Vicaress limped at Ka’in’s side as they closed in. The climb up to the plateau must have been difficult for her, as she looked pained in all sorts of ways. The fire still blazed heavy around her dagger, alighting her eyes, but instead of the drab brown they normally were, tonight they burned with an intensity. She couldn’t stop staring at Ka’in.
I couldn’t tell if it was love or hate. Funny how much they can look alike.
Wisps kept falling on the Asham. The night was now thick with falling Cold, and tomorrow morning there would be thousands upon thousands of Wisps out in the plateau sands to collect. The Wisps kept arriving in large numbers, puffing up where the land was soft and breaking where the land was rocks. Many of the Wisps landed on Asham helmets and shields, bursting into tiny puffs of Cold on the spot. The effect caused a few smiles and many confused frowns.
Shilah took my hand in hers. She and I stood at the front of the balcony, waiting for the Asham approach.
We’d abandoned our plans for battle. At this point, the most powerful force we possessed was from above.
‘Ka’in,’ I shouted as he stepped away from the ranks and approached the balcony. ‘Welcome to the City of Jadans’ Rise. Put down your weapons and let us celebrate this miracle together. We have a lot to discuss.’
Shilah gave my hand a proud squeeze.
Ka’in’s smile was wicked and full of self-righteousness. He wore no mask this time, his features a mess of purple burns scars. The cuts and marred skin were glossier than normal; almost as if he’d applied a balm to make the features look even more grotesque.
Ka’in spat at our direction and then ground the spit into the dirt with his foot. He picked up a freshly fallen Wisp and then turned around to his armies, ignoring my remarks.
‘My loves!’ Ka’in shouted. ‘My fair family! My fellow chosen more than a few! Tears, tears, tears everywhere! Tonight is the night we are proud to call ourselves Nobles. Because the Crier is here with us, and he is speaking to our blessed people through miracles! He is proving that once again, we are the chosen!’
Ka’in put the Wisp in his mouth, which I knew would burn rather painfully. He swished the brown bead around, holding it in his cheeks for a spell before spitting the remainder back out into his palm. He opened his mouth and wiggled his tongue, which was visibly swollen.
The Vicaress looked at Ka’in as if he’d gone mad. Still, she didn’t speak up.
Ka’in spat a few times, licking his lips.
‘The Crier has watched his chosen Nobles gather here, so far from our homes, so far from our normal lives!’ he continued shouting, although the words were a bit loose. ‘And he has begun to Cry for us. He sees us gather at the Second Fall, without our comforts, our delicious gardens, our slaves, and sees us suffering. Well, we have suffered long enough! We are beautiful and this night is beautiful, and now we are one!’
Shilah and I exchanged a hopeless glance.
Split came up beside us and growled out, ‘Liar! This Cold is not for you!’
Ka’in waved a delicate hand. ‘Thus spoke the traitor.’ He turned to the Vicaress. ‘Darling, is there really anything worse in the whole World Cried than a traitor? At least the Jadan scum are just nasty scum.’ His face grew angry. ‘SCUM!’
A few of the Noble soldiers snarled and waved their swords, but many of them still looked up at the sky with unease. They were close to believing; so close. If only I said the right thing. A real leader would know what to say.
The Vicaress said nothing. She looked into the flames of her dagger, as if searching for answers.
Ka’in put a hand over his heart. Then he ripped his shirt and rubbed the purple and red scarring on his chest. ‘But to betray one’s own kin! The Crier holds special duties for traitor Nobles in the black. Especially for you, Camlish Tavor.’
Cam stepped up to the balcony, opening his arms wide. ‘Don’t listen to word he says, people. My name is indeed Camlish Tavor, and as a High Noble I can tell you with absolute honesty that the Drought is over. That the Jadans are more than worthy. That there is no reason to fight. The Crier has been on the Jadans’ side all this time. Micah and Shilah here have discovered the real miracle. That if Jadans cry on a Frost and it is put in the ground, then a new Cry Patch will—’
Cam abruptly stopped talking. Something flashed through the air. His head gave a violent jerk backwards.
‘No!’ Shilah rushed towards him. ‘Cam!’
Cam took his hand away from his face. There was blood on his palm. He looked down at his feet, clenching his fist.
‘That asshat threw a rock at me,’ Cam said, spitting blood from his lip.
Ka’in curtsied.
Shilah stood up straight as I’d ever seen. She reached into her braid to go for her dagger.
I stopped her, shaking my head.
‘We can do this without violence,’ I said, gesturing to the Crying sky.
Ka’in pursed his lips and blew a kiss at Cam. Then he turned back to the armies, Wisps striking their helmets and swords.
‘My beautiful beauties!’ Ka’in said. ‘What a delicious sin. Sounds good, but don’t eat it! Anyway, here we Nobles stand in celebration. The Crier has watched us struggle for so long now. Struggle to be away from our families and lives. These slaves had obviously made a deal with the Sun to keep the city from burning. The Sun has been helping them all this time, but now the Crier is helping us! He cries this Cold for Noblekind, to help us in our fight! To show us that he cares for us! Now in return, the Khat asks that we exterminate—’
‘The Khat is dead!’ I shouted.
A rush of whispers travelled through the ranks.
‘It’s true!’ Shilah said. ‘The Khat was never here at the city. He died nearly a year ago, and his only son has been locked in the basement of the Pyramid. Ask Ka’in!’
Ka’in’s eyes narrowed.
The Vicaress swallowed hard, her blade lowering just a tad.
The whispers picked up behind them.
The Khat’s dead?
Could it be true?
I haven’t seen his holiness in a while.
It has to be a lie.
Cam stepped up again, but I gave him a gentle gesture to hold back. Instead, I motioned to Split, for him to bring me Gale. The ibis was nuzzled on Picka’s hump, sleeping soundly. Split picked her up, and the bird struggled, but she calmed when she was in my hands.
More whispers from the crowd:
What is that?
What is that the slave is holding?
The Wisps began to pick up. They fell everywhere, continuing to crash on helmets, swords and pikes, almost as if the night sky itself was trying to tell the Asham to put down their weapons and come inside the Sanctuary. To join us.
‘Noblekind!’ I shouted out. My voice strained to the point of breaking. I held Gale above my head for all to see. ‘Please, I beg you to listen to reason. You came here for the Second Fall, which will not happen. Ka’in promised you a burning city, but here is a city coming back to life. Here is a city of healing. Here is a city for the animals to return to. My name is Micah Ben-Abb, and I am a Jadan from Paphos. Together with my friends, we have discovered what caused the Drought in the first place, and how it was ended. And we can prove both. Right now there are new Cold Patches Crying for Jadans all across the World Cried. In Paphos, Marlea and even Langria. Put down your weapons and let us talk. You see, there is something called Desert, that can blind the Crier and make it so he doesn’t know where to cry. The First Khat travelled the world—’
Ka’in took out a dagger and hurled it at my chest.
It headed straight up with incredible speed.
Cam jumped in front of me.
I gasped and cried out.
The dagger hit the stone at Cam’s feet.
Cam watched the weapon skitter harmlessly through his legs, everyone jumping out of the way behind him. Shilah looked like she was about to faint.
I placed a hand on Cam’s shoulder, my heart thundering.
The Five burst out of the crowd behind us and stood right at our sides, huddling tight and looking ready to jump in front of anything else for us.
Cam turned to me, his hand over his heart. ‘I really thought that was it.’
‘That’s the second time you’ve jumped in the way of danger for me,’ I said.
‘For you, World Partner,’ Cam said, slapping my cheek playfully, ‘anything.’
‘Hey, that’s our thing!’ Shilah said, crossing her arms. ‘Get your own thing.’
Cam shrugged giving me a questioning look. ‘My … Cold Buddy?’
I chuckled. ‘Absolutely.’
‘Bah!’ Ka’in said, turning back to the Nobles. ‘Do not listen to their scum lies, Noblekind!’ He picked up another Wisp that fell by his feet. ‘Lies and tears. Lies for fears. This Cold cannot be explained. This is not some natural thing! Desert, or whatever the ugly boy called it, is not real, but this Wisp is a sign from the Crier, for us. This was never supposed to be a Second Fall, it was supposed to be a slaughter! We are worthy, they are not. It has always been that way. And it always will! Maybe the Khat has always been dead, because I am the Khat now! And I tell you that I can hear the Crier speaking to me! He has chosen me and is speaking right now! His voice is so deep and powerful, and he is telling us to get our weapons ready and sharpened, for we shall storm the Sanctuary and kill any Jadan—’
A collective gasp rose from the army.
‘K-Ka’in!’ the Vicaress shouted beside him, pointing up. ‘Lo-lo—’
‘Quiet!’ Ka’in snarled. ‘You bumbling—’
And then his head caved in.
A burst of wind and Cold shot out from Ka’in’s body, knocking the Vicaress back a step and extinguishing her blade.
Ka’in crumbled to the ground, lifeless.
The cloud of Cold raced across the front lines of the soldiers, biting their hands and faces, making them drop their weapons.
It had happened so fast. But we’d all seen what killed him.
A Shiver.
A beautiful Shiver.
The first piece of Cold bigger than a Wisp to fall in this new Patch, and it had streaked the air with speed and starlight. It landed right on Ka’in’s head with enough force to break both itself and his skull.
Shilah and I looked at each other aghast.
Ka’in’s head had a large gash at the impact point, viscous red seeping into the sands beside him. Panic flooded the ranks of Asham at his back, wincing away from the sky with fear. They raised their shields and huddled close together, looking to the Vicaress for answers, calling out with alarm.
The Vicaress looked up at the balcony.
Come on, I prayed. Come on.
She looked at her blade.
She looked back at the armies.
She looked at the ibis.
And then she kneeled.
She thrust the dagger into the sand beside her, and lowered her head.
The rest of the Asham hesitated, but then eventually followed her lead. They all dropped to their knees and laid down their arms. Wisps continued to fall in greater quantities, landing on exposed backs, causing small grunts of panic and pain.
The Jadans behind me cheered like never before, but I waved them quiet.
‘Noble Family!’ I shouted out into the sands. ‘Rise. You don’t need to kneel!’
The Vicaress reached out and touched Ka’in’s leg. She was weeping.
‘Rise!’ I said. ‘We are all one people! We are all ONE PEOPLE! Come inside with us! Take shelter with us!’
They looked worried, as if I were inviting them into a trap.
I bowed.
Shilah bowed next.
Then Cam.
And the Five.
And then everyone behind me.
The Vicaress hesitated.
Finally, she rose and began to limp forward.
The Asham armies quickly followed her, hurrying out of the falling Cold. They threw down their weapons into a large pile on the rocks.
I took Shilah’s hand and Cam’s hand and together we turned towards hallway.
The Flock parted ways so we might pass, continuing to bow, but this time it was to us. Dunes had his forehead pressed against the stone. Split and Picka were hugging each other tight in celebration, the little camel licking the bald spot on the top of the Pedlar’s head. Leah and the sisters were crying with joy.
Cleave touched my shoulder.
I turned towards the giant man.
A single tear crossed his stony face. He got down on one knee.
‘Meshua,’ he said.
It was the first time I’d heard him speak.
His voice was weak, gritty and full of tenderness.
I drew two fingers down my cheek and he mimicked the gesture.
And then Shilah, Cam and I made our way through the hallway. We walked down the stairs, our hands together.
To greet the new members of our family.