Coldmaker(15)



Our Barracksmaster passed through the doors, dragging in the rations cart. He came around with the Closed Eye, and we all kneeled for our evening portion of figs and cooled water. Then everyone stepped down from their walls, parents and children sweeping together in hugs that often looked painful, limbs careful not to squeeze too tightly. Matty hovered beside Moussa and me, always looking a bit awkward when this time came. A few years back Matty had been assigned Levi as his father, and not all fathers were like Abb. Levi was a man of scowls, who often expressed his disdain at having such a ‘pathetic excuse for a Jadan’ forced upon his lineage. Moussa exchanged a cursory wave with his assigned mother, Hanni, which was the extent of the affection I ever saw them show one another.

Abb began making his way over, a broad smile on his lips, calling to us while pointing at the bells that had now finished ringing. ‘Hey, boys. Did you have a good chime today?’

I slapped my forehead.

Abb shifted around the hugging bodies. ‘Good chime? Like good time. Get it—’And then his eyes went to Moussa’s skin, his expression slipping as the bruises registered.

‘Moussa, come with me, we’ll get the healing box,’ Abb said. ‘Now.’

Moussa didn’t react, having got lost in a feverish stare. Sarra and Joon were now embracing in a lingering hug, doing their best to squish out any air left between their bodies.

Abb put a gentle hand on Moussa’s shoulder. ‘Trust me, kiddo. When it comes to broken hearts, the one with the hammer is never the one with the mortar. Now let’s get you looked at, make sure you don’t have any cracked ribs.’

Moussa nodded, knowing better than to argue with the Barracks Healer when he looked that serious.

‘What’cha sad for, Moussa?’ Matty asked with a curious tilt of his head. ‘I never even seen you talk to Sarra.’

Moussa’s hands balled into shaky fists, shooting a look of pure disdain down at Matty. ‘I was going to!’

Matty gave a single frightened jerk and then fell into his slave stance.

‘Moussa …’ Abb warned.

‘Sorry.’ Moussa sighed. ‘Family.’

Matty slowly reached out his trembling arm, tilting his wrist back.

Moussa rolled his eyes and then touched Matty’s ‘calm spot’ with his thumb.

‘We’ve got enough Nobles yelling at us,’ Abb said with a nod. ‘You boys don’t need to add to the noise.’

I gestured to Matty’s back with a stab of my forehead.

Abb leaned over and graced Matty’s injuries with a glance. ‘You too, featherbrain. Let’s get you Patched up. Get it?’

Moussa groaned, but Matty smiled.

‘Use my salve,’ I said. ‘Save your medicines, Dad.’

Abb raised an eyebrow, but I knew he’d be proud. ‘And are you going to tinker while I work, Little Builder?’

‘I’m going out,’ I said, lowering my voice so the swarming families on either side wouldn’t hear me.

Matty looked up, worried. ‘But the Procession is soon. The taskmasters are prolly going to be all over. Stay here and help me find a place for that marble nose.’

I tapped the side of my head. ‘I’m working on my own thing. Don’t worry, I’ll be careful.’

‘What are you trying to find?’ Moussa asked in the subtle tone he used when he was curious about my tinkering.

I paused. I intended to find more sheets of waxy paper tonight, which would be a vital part of the Idea; I thought if I didn’t say it out loud, maybe I could convince myself to give it up, but I knew it wasn’t only finding materials that I craved. My mind kept returning to the image of a rigid back.

‘Something different,’ I said.

I sat cross-legged on the roof, hoping the Upright Girl might finally appear out of the darkness. Most of the night had already passed, and still she had yet to show her face or braided hair.

In truth, there had been no need to come back to the Blacksmith Quarter, to the alley where the girl had watched me deny the Shiver, and I should have been back in Abb’s room, deep in sleep. With the Procession coming up, it wasn’t safe to be outside the barracks at this time of night. The taskmasters had their own quotas, and the closer it got to the ritual, the more desperate they became to fill them.

I’d been sitting in the same spot so long that my feet had fallen asleep. The light from the stars bathed the Smith Quarter in a soft glow, and in the distance I could see the last streaks of the Crying over the Patches, now swollen with Cold. I thought about my three Wisps and how they had once fallen into those same sands. A tired Patch Jadan would have picked them up and added them to his bucket. What might that Jadan think if he knew those Wisps would end up under my blanket? What might he think if he knew my Idea?

Abb would be worried by now, but I didn’t want to leave the roof yet. I had no clue what else I could do to draw the Upright Girl out. I continued to keep my back at a scandalous angle, straight and uncomfortable, hoping that it might be the key to her trust. I could have sworn I sensed her out there, in the shadows of Paphos, watching me.

A part of me thought I might just be imagining her presence, so desperate to think she was there that I was creating faces in the shadows and conjuring dark figures at the corners of my eyes. Even the Jadans plundering the rubbish heaps had gone home now, taking advantage of the last hours of darkness to get some sleep. At this point, I thought, even the taskmasters must be in their beds.

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