‘Do my back too,’ she said without any hint of embarrassment, lifting her dress and revealing her muscled stomach.
Cam looked away, occupying himself by sifting through the rest of Mama Jana’s shelves, his voice more pinched than when our lives had been in danger. ‘Surely there must be a few Wisps lying around.’
‘We don’t need Wisps,’ Shilah said with a hint of a smile, looking at my hands and then at my face. ‘We have Ice now.’
Cam gave a nod of consent, keeping his eyes on the inside of the drawers. ‘You’re right, but it probably wouldn’t hurt to have some with us. So we don’t raise suspicion all the time.’
His words trailed to a murmur as he pulled out a stack of books. A little blue tome in the middle caught my attention, looking about as old as the Khatdom itself. The writing on the spine was white and languid, and also somehow … familiar? I couldn’t quite make out the design in the dim light. I also quickly lost interest, as Shilah had just taken my hands and moved it to her naked lower back.
‘Here,’ she said. ‘Where the sweat gathers.’
I reapplied the perfume and began spreading it across her skin, trying not to linger at the dimples studding her backside. I allowed my fingers to move slowly, nearly forgetting about the hungry creatures clamouring for our blood. Shilah leaned into my touch and time slowed to a crawl – which was most welcome, as every breath had the possibility of being my last.
‘And my hair, too,’ she said.
I dabbed the rosemusk into her locks, making sure to massage her scalp. Her head rolled along with my touch. All of a sudden her eyes flicked over, boring into mine with strong passion.
‘We can change things,’ she whispered. ‘We have to change things. Look at how far we’ve come.’
I nodded. ‘But the hounds—’
She took my hand in hers, gripping tightly. ‘Are nothing. We made the Coldmaker. We’re going to get through this together.’
I saw that my fingers had dried faster than I would have liked, and so Shilah spun me around and emptied the bottle, holding me still with one hand and spreading the perfume evenly with the other. Wherever her fingers traced I felt life blossom, and I was suddenly aware that the room had filled with the potency of a hundred gardens.
Shilah’s hand lingered on my forearm as she put the empty bottle down, her voice going back to normal volume. ‘Now let’s just hope all the perfume doesn’t attract suspicion from outside, then—’
‘Not you!’ a voice groaned from the back of the shop. ‘Curse this whole Sun-damned land, not you, Spout.’
All three of us spun around to watch the figure sweeping her way out of the dark. It couldn’t have been Mama Jana, however, as the shopkeeper I knew was always meticulously maintained, not a grey hair out of place. The approaching figure was dressed as poorly as the dead-cart Jadans, with dirt smeared all over her face and more rips in her clothes than Cam. Her hair was the same shade of grey as the real Mama Jana, but it was frayed like a broomstick. Heavy shadows tugged at her eyes. She wandered through a beam of light seeping in from the space beneath the closed window, revealing the face of the kind Noblewoman I once knew. I couldn’t fathom what sort of darkness must have devoured her and left this hag in its wake.
‘Not you,’ Mama Jana said again, dropping the knife in her hand. ‘You were supposed to be safe.’
‘I’m sorry,’ I said, tucking my chin to my chest in shame.
Cam looked shocked. ‘Mama Jana! Were you sleeping somewhere back there?’
Mama Jana walked right up to Cam and poked him in the chest, her fingernails broken and chipped. For the first time since I’d known her, the nails weren’t painted any particular colour, which was even further cause for worry.
‘You were supposed to take the boy back to the Manor, Camlish,’ she snarled. ‘You were going to keep him safe.’
‘I did,’ Cam said, backing away, keeping his eyes off the fig basket. He nearly stumbled over a wooden chest trying to find reprieve from her gaze. ‘I tried. But you don’t understand—’
The next horn blast from outside was muffled, but distinct.
Closer.
‘What happened, Camlish?’ Mama Jana asked, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. ‘Why the hounds, and why are you wearing a girl’s Paphesian flutter-dress?’
Cam glanced down at his shirt with a hearty frown. ‘Is that what this is? They just looked like regular robes to me …’
‘We need your help,’ Shilah said, stepping in between them, standing tall.
Mama Jana gave Shilah a fleeting look and then did a double-take. Her eyes widened, the streaks of dirt making her aged face look demonic. ‘Aren’t you Veronica’s daugh—’
‘We’re in danger,’ Shilah said. ‘Can you hide us? Please. I heard you used to be a Marcheye. That’s why I brought us here.’
I cocked my head. A Marcheye?
‘Your mother told you about that?’ Mama Jana asked, mouth gaping. ‘But you’re too young for the ceremonies. And besides, it was shut down ten years ago.’
Shilah stood rod straight, her eyes flitting around the room, almost as if ignoring the Noblewoman standing in front of her.
‘And you said nothing to anyone?’ Mama Jana asked, lump visibly forming in her fleshy throat. ‘You didn’t try the March, did you?’
‘Nothing,’ Shilah said, puffing further with pride. ‘No.’
‘Mama Jana,’ I said, giving the shopkeeper a respectful bow. She seemed smaller and more hunched than I remembered. ‘I’m sorry that we came here and burdened you. But we have good reason. We—’
And then a pang in my chest, seizing my words.
‘What is it, child?’ Mama Jana asked, looking me over with concern.
I shook my head, unable to speak over the rebounding emptiness.
Shilah gave me a concerned glance and then picked up where I had left off. ‘We discovered something that’s going to change the whole World Cried.’
‘Please help us,’ Cam added, bowing, which was something the High Nobles never did for the lowborn Nobles. ‘It will pay you back for the figs a hundredfold.’
‘Oh, I don’t give a beetleskin about the figs, Camlish!’ Mama Jana was nearly snarling. ‘You were supposed to keep him safe!’
I was about to grab the Coldmaker out of my bag and show Mama Jana, but she waved me still and quiet.
‘No more talking,’ she said, navigating the dark shop as easily as a whip snapping through open air. ‘No more talking until we get down to the chamber. The hounds can hear almost as well as they can smell.’
Mama Jana’s shop only had the one level. I’d been there dozens of times and never noticed any stairs or hidden doors. There was no chamber.
Mama Jana grabbed one of her fancy canvas bags and began stuffing our soiled clothes away, staining the inside with our sweat and dirt and sand. ‘It was a smart idea to change clothes and scents, Spout. I’d expect nothing less from you, but it’s not enough. You need to be away from here.’
I went to open my mouth, but her glare could have cooked clay to brick.
‘No talking,’ she spat, her eyes flicking over to the drawer where I’d discovered the rosemusk and clay urns. ‘I mean it.’
She grabbed our clothes bag that must have stunk