‘You think?’
Moussa’s face soured. He smelled of a long shift, and his breathing was still a bit wheezy and shallow. Abb had said his rib would heal within a few weeks. ‘They always are.’
From my other side, Matty said: ‘I want to meet the Shiver Girl. She’s invincible.’
‘Invincible, huh?’
‘And did’ja know she can fly?’
I paused, holding back my smile. ‘How do you know?’
Matty gave me a look questioning if I was being serious. ‘Because the Vicaress didn’t catch her.’
‘But what if the Vicaress did catch her, but the Boilweed Girl is just invincible,’ I replied.
Matty thought about it, his face scrunching with the effort. ‘That’s prolly it. I’m jealous you got to see her.’
Moussa’s eyes went dark. ‘Here’s the thing, Matty. You’re too young to understand how bad this is. She’s a plague.’
‘Ten’s not that little.’ Matty smiled, bright and big. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the metal and yarn feather, waving it in front of my eyes. I wasn’t sure how the thing hadn’t been confiscated yet, since he always kept it on him during his errands. ‘Especially if you don’t know long you’re going to live.’
I was stunned, my stomach flipping into a horrified knot. I looked over at Moussa for help, but he looked just as taken aback.
‘Matty,’ I said. My chest squeezed, but he had a point. I couldn’t help but think of the one-eyed boy I’d delivered to the alley; he’d looked even younger than Matty.
Matty kept waving the feather, possibly oblivious to how sad his statement came across. His smile didn’t falter as he watched the yarn dance.
Moussa tried to step in. ‘You can’t look at it like—’
‘I don’t mean it in a bad way,’ Matty said. ‘It’s like, some things prolly don’t last as long as they should.’ The feather caught the first of the starlight through the roof. ‘It makes ’em special,’ he continued. ‘And then you can hope they come back.’
I felt my throat swell shut, struggling to keep the tears out of my eyes.
‘For now, let’s just assume we’re all going to work the Patches together,’ I said. ‘And then the Pyramid, and we’ll all die as old men with grey hair.’ I tried on a smile, but it didn’t fit. ‘Maybe we’ll even finish your board game.’
‘Grey hair like Zeti Gum?’ Matty thrust the feather across the room like a sword.
Old Man Gum was standing with the Builders, but he was facing the wrong way, and seemed to be attempting to carve something into the barracks wall with his fingernail.
‘Greyer,’ Moussa said, the humour returning to his voice. ‘I guarantee the hair on our toes is going to be grey.’
‘Whatsit feel like, Spout?’ Matty asked, talking above the rising whispers of our kin. ‘Getting touched by Big Cold.’
I sank against the wall, thinking. ‘I can’t really explain it.’
Matty gave me a pleading look. ‘Can you try?’
I swivelled my head to Moussa, who gave a curious shrug.
I closed my eyes and sighed. I’d never forget the feeling, but it was difficult putting it into words. ‘It was like the Crier himself was lifting me into the night sky. And Great Gale putting her lips right on me.’
Moussa arched an eyebrow. ‘Like you know what a kiss feels like.’
I gave Moussa a playful nudge, making sure not to hit his ribs.
‘I’m going to kiss the Boilweed Girl,’ Matty said.
‘You mean the Upright Girl …?’ I asked, letting the words sink in.
‘Upright how?’ Moussa asked.
I held up my palm and made it straight like a knife, the same way as before.
Moussa paused, his face sinking with a frown. ‘Wait, you don’t think …’
I nodded. ‘I definitely think. She stood the same way. And where do you think she got that Shiver from?’
Matty’s eyes widened, his voice rising. ‘But’chu touched it? Does that mean the Vicaress is going to come after you too? You’re smart and everything, Spout, but you’re prolly not invincible like her.’
‘No.’ I shook my head. ‘But the Upright Girl came to my corner the other day and watched me from the alley. I think she has something to tell me. That may have even been why she chose the Market Quarter.’
Moussa’s face went so dark it practically melted into shadow. ‘That’s a really terrible idea. The Vicaress has got the same holy blood as the Khat. And she’s going to find your Upright Girl soon, and when she does, you won’t want to be anywhere near her.’
‘This girl is different,’ I said, feeling foolish for defending someone I knew nothing about. ‘I can feel it.’
‘Micah, she’s the enemy,’ Moussa said with a snarl. The bars went back up behind his eyes. ‘She’s going to bring bad times for all of us, all for some stupid waste of Cold.’
Before I could speak, Old Man Gum pounded a fist against the wall, right before the chimes went off above our heads. All the conversation ceased immediately, every Jadan falling into perfectly subservient poses: shoulders in, chin down, slight bends at the hip.
Gramble came into the barracks with his rations cart, a look of deep disturbance on his face. I hoped it was just from our talking and nothing more.
‘Barracks forty-five,’ Gramble called out, in a tone of voice that was very much unlike him. ‘There has been a certain disturbance today during the Procession. I am aware that a few of you disobey the rules and sneak out of here at night.’ I tried not to look too guilty. Gramble then waved about a piece of parchment that had a freshly cracked wax seal. ‘This ends tonight. Writ from the Khat himself has it that any Jadan caught out at night will be executed on the spot, and their Barracksmaster will go without pay for a month.’ His eyes were boring into mine now. ‘This sneaking about ends tonight. All of you.’
Gramble went around with his Closed Eye and gave out the evening rations. When it was my turn to declare myself ‘Unworthy’ I did so in a shaky voice, unable to look my Barracksmaster in the face.
‘I told you,’ Moussa said as we broke free from the wall, a grim veil over his eyes. ‘Bad times are ahead.’
Metal footsteps clanked in rhythm to the ‘Khat’s Anthem’.
Holy Eyes have long forsaken
Those of Jadankind
But the Khat is made of mercy
For those blind to the Cry
The heavy steps sounded from the distance, their clunking so sharp I knew the shoes must have steel soles. I steadied my voice, doing my best not to draw attention to myself. Unless Jadanmaster Geb had decided to go with an armour theme for his outfit today, then this was someone else stomping down Arch Road.
He keeps us from the darkness
He gives us hope and grace
Long live the Khat and all his sons