Coldmarch

by Daniel A. Cohen

  Dunes, still lost in shadow, opened his arms wide and let the air caress his scars. I couldn’t make out his face, but I knew what sort of serenity waited there.

  ‘What about the fact that the Crier is a he?’ Cam asked, not meeting my eyes. ‘Like those paintings in Split’s cave. The ones that look like you.’

  I levelled the haft of the crossbow and rolled an Abb along the groove, noticing a few more places where it would have to be scraped open. Overall though, the weapon was nearly ready. I’d been putting off the testing until all the modified crossbows were done. I was old enough to know that sometimes hope worked better than the act itself, and I wanted to savour the anticipation. This might not work out like I expected. I dreaded the possibility of being left unarmed and unplanned while despair came crashing down.

  ‘All the more reason for his Coldmaking partner to be female,’ I said, making the final adjustments to the wood.

  ‘You don’t need to be worried about Shilah,’ Cam said, poking holes in the melon’s face to look like eyes. ‘I know Shilah well enough to know she can take care of herself. She’s probably already escaped from that Ka’in guy, and is making her way back through the caves.’

  ‘I hear nothing from any of the tunnels,’ Dunes said out of the darkness.

  Cam sighed. ‘Thanks, Dunes. You know what I mean, though. And I’m excited because … because this is damn exciting! Shivers and Frosts, Spout, imagine their faces when we come swarming in there all loaded to the teeth with—’

  ‘Let’s just make sure this works,’ I said, a knot in my stomach, not trying to get my hopes up too high. Cam was right, and I knew Shilah could take care of herself, but until she was by my side, and things were sorted between us, I’d feel uneasy. I was desperate to share my revelation with her, and I had a feeling she’d be proud to finally see a matching fire in my eyes.

  ‘Meshua,’ Split called, still hunched over by the machine.

  ‘Hmm?’

  ‘I think it’s getting slower. She’s getting slower.’

  ‘Slower?’ I asked, the cool wind still kissing my face as it passed through the cave.

  Split put a hand on the bronze Eye, as if checking the health of a sick child. ‘The Abbs are coming out slower than before.’

  I nearly threw the crossbow on the ground and swept my way over to the machine. I nodded to Split as he stepped aside so I could look at the catch-point. Indeed, the gold was piling on itself slower than before. Not by much, but there was a small delay in the creation. With gentle motions – so I wouldn’t send pain up my fingers – I flipped the knobs and slid the levers of the Belisk-style puzzle, lifting the lid of the machine.

  ‘It’s nothing,’ I said, after a long spell. ‘I think it just needs more salt in the Cold Charge.’

  ‘Salt like what we took from the caves?’ Cam asked, perking up. ‘We still have those pieces—’

  ‘I’ll do it later,’ I said, waving away his concern.

  Dunes flung himself out of the shadows, his blade swinging high and heavy. ‘I will obtain any salt you need, Meshua! I will march to the market right away and—’

  I held up my hands. ‘Hold on, Dunes. It’s fine, it can wait. The Coldmaker is fine. Nothing wrong at all. And besides, we need to test out these crossbows.’

  Dunes bowed, slinking back and lowering his blade. ‘By your command.’

  I wobbled back to the crossbows, having trouble finding my footing. I picked up the one I’d been working on and silently went back to tinkering.

  ‘Micah,’ Cam said, full of concern. ‘What is it?’

  ‘Fumes from the Cold Charge I think,’ I said, wiping my nose and blinking a few times. ‘It’s good to know. I have to watch out for that. Anyway, let’s see if this plan works.’

  ‘It definitely will,’ Cam said, swinging around by my side and putting an arm over my shoulder. ‘We’re going to have Shilah back in no time, and we’re going to blast fear into Noble hearts as we do it.’

  I held out the crossbow to him, my hand shaking.

  ‘You kidding me?’ Cam asked. ‘This is your idea. You go first this time.’

  I pulled an Abb out of my pocket and loaded it onto the crossbow before I realized I hadn’t cocked the actual bow back yet. Then I stared at my useless hand. ‘Oh, wait.’

  Cam gave my shoulder a reassuring squeeze, and took the crossbow, his face going red as he strained to get the bow taut, handing it back. ‘Don’t be nervous.’

  I swallowed hard, putting the Abb in place and lifting the sights so they lined up with the melon guard. I had no idea how something so round and small would fly, and I hoped my aim would be true.

  Dunes swung directly in my line of fire, broad and looming and in serious danger of getting hit.

  ‘Tears above!’ Cam exclaimed. ‘What are you doing, man?’

  Dunes kneeled down, spinning so his back was to us, keeping his chest wide and exposed as he stretched his arms as wide as they would go. ‘Fire over me. In case the Cold wave comes back, I will be known as the shield that protected Meshua and his second-closest companion.’

  Cam gave a conceding nod. ‘Thanks, Dunes.’

  I heard Split grumble something from the shoreline of the sacred pool, but I couldn’t make it out clearly. Picka made a similar noise, looking longingly at her Pedlar.

  ‘Ready for this?’ I asked, desperately trying to sound positive. I was sure even Picka could tell I was faking it.

  Obstacles, I reminded myself. It’s just another obstacle.

  ‘Hey, Split?’ I asked.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Any pointers? I think you’re the only one of us who’s used one of these.’

  ‘Sure,’ Split said. ‘Same as peddling. Start with your prices too high. You can always negotiate down, but you can’t go up.’

  ‘I meant about shooting a crossbow,’ I said.

  He gestured for me to raise the tip of the weapon.

  I nodded, aiming above the melon to compensate for any arch. I should have thought to do that myself without being told to.

  Just another obstacle, I thought, trying to regain focus.

  Cam took a step back, rubbing his hands together. ‘Make them shake, Meshua.’

  I pressed the trigger, and the weapon bucked with power. The Abb careered off the wooden shaft too fast for me to see, far faster than an arrow. Dunes didn’t spasm to the side in a cloud of brutal Cold, so I knew at least the golden bead made it past his kneeling form.

  The melon was unharmed.

  There was a crackling explosion along the back of the cave, however, near the Adaam Grass. Then a blast of Cold slammed through the entire cave. The shrines tipped. The sacred pool shuddered. Even the last of Split’s wispy hair blew back and revealed burns and baldness. Cam and I exchanged a look as the Cold brushed our faces. At the same time, we began running to see what kind of damage the Abb had done. I grabbed a lantern on the way, and Cam doubled back to grab his own, the candle inside flickering as he ran. Dunes remained kneeling, drawing two fingers down his cheeks and muttering something under his breath.

  Picka was braying wildly, rolling on her back.

  Cam and I stormed deeper into the cave. A cloud of Cold swirled and found shape in front of us, thick and fierce, and Cam and I halted at the edge to wait for it to dissipate. We held up our hands and tried to feel where it was bearable. About five paces from the wall the air was now painfully Cold, and I stuck my head further into the cloud and gasped. The air nearly froze my lungs. I could just make out a heavy sheet of Ice spreading across the entire section of stone wall at the back, like our Ice bridge turned up on its side.

  I kept my limp hand behind me to stave off further injury.

  If an Abb held all of this power, how had I escaped with only a few dead fingers?

  At my feet, all the blades of Adaam Grass had tilted towards the Cold, their light growing brighter with every passing second, more vibrant and defined. The candles became unnecessary. The entire back portion
of the cave was cast in soft green, leaving the various rock shapes and patterns outlined with unusual depth.

  Cam burst into celebratory whoops, pointing through the cloud to the spot where the Abb had struck. He gave a little yelp, yanking his finger back and putting it in his mouth.

  I tried to quell the whimpering boy in me and let the Inventor take the lead. Just another obstacle, I reminded myself. Don’t think about it.

  I needed to know everything about our capabilities for when we stormed the Sanctuary, especially now that I knew our weapons would be limited. I couldn’t let myself miss a single detail. The Ice on the wall was at least as thick as my finger. It had expanded along the stone about about ten paces wide, with various shapes at the edges, the right side looking particularly—

  ‘Spout!’ Cam shouted, pointing again through the cloud, but this time with his elbow. ‘Look!’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Do you need my presence, Meshua?’ Dunes called.

  ‘No,’ I said. ‘I’m fine.’

  ‘Look what you hit!’ Cam exclaimed.

  I squinted, trying to focus on the centre where the Ice was thickest. That would have been the impact spot. Beneath the Ice, distorted, the shape hinted at the ‘unusable’ sign, like the one the Jadan at Gilly’s had branded on his neck. Or the ones that Jadanmasters drew on Street Jadan foreheads when they were being punished. Once I’d had the symbol etched into my tongue, which was rather unpleasant.

  Normally it was a triangle with a verticle line through the middle, but this was different. This line didn’t extend past the edges of the Pyramid; instead it zig-zagged through diagonally, and after a moment I realized it was bisected by multiple lines.

  ‘It’s the Khat’s Pyramid!’ Cam shouted.

  ‘No, it’s not,’ I said carefully, the shape barely even visible through the Ice and cloud.

  ‘It is!’ Cam shouted, taking a deep, blissful breath through his nose, almost smug. ‘You shot the Khat’s Pyramid, and it’s cracking down the centre. It’s another sign. Ha!’

  I had to examine it more closely, but it did look somewhat like the Khat’s Pyramid. There were small lines forming on the slabs of stone, but the structure had a large crack through the centre. The refracting Ice gave it the appearance of crumbling apart at the seams.

  ‘That’s just a coincidence,’ I said, pointing around to all the other drawings on the wall. There were Opened Eyes, and maps, and faces and names and prayers. ‘It could have hit anything.’

  Cam took the crossbow out of my hands and kissed it. ‘But it didn’t hit anything. And I don’t see any other Pyramids anywhere.’ He kissed the weapon again. ‘Damn, I wish my father could see this thing.’

  ‘You do?’

  Cam held it up to the wall, lining the sights with the crumbling Pyramid. ‘From the wrong end.’

  ‘Meshua!’ Split called.

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘Do you want me to make more of the Abbs?’ he asked, and I could hear the excitement in his voice.

  ‘Not yet,’ I said, trying not to choke on my words.

  ‘Let’s practise,’ Cam said, his smile ear to ear. ‘And then go get Shilah.’

  I hesitated. ‘Fine, but not too many times, okay?’

  Cam looked up from the sights, giving me a curious look. ‘I thought you wanted all of us to get good before we went to—’

  ‘I just don’t want the cave to get too Cold.’ I pointed down. ‘And I don’t want the Adaam Grass to die. And besides, I want to get going as soon as possible.’

  Cam shrugged, his face uncharacteristically serious. ‘Not going to argue with you there. I’m worried about her too.’

  We tried out a few more targets, learning how the Cold reacted to different surfaces, and got a rough estimate of the trajectory of the Abbs. We became proficient, and after a few attempts each we could all get close to the intended mark. If the Abbs exploded near a target, they still almost always sheeted the whole thing in a solid tomb of Ice. Any direct hits would not only incapacitate our enemies, but do much worse. The guards might end up looking as blackened and dead as my fingers.

  Each eruption was magnificent, and proved how much of a blessing the crossbows would be in the upcoming fight. But each eruption also made me wince, my new secret growing heavier with each wasted miracle.

  Because even as I was learning about the Abbs, taking in everything with my eyes and ears and nose and heart, I was elsewhere. I kept looking over at the Coldmaker after each shot of the crossbow, trying not to sink.

  There was a reason the Coldmaker was slower in making the Abbs than before. Something I didn’t realize until I looked inside the bronze box.

  My one and only Frost was shrinking.

  The Coldmaker was going to die.

  PART THREE

  Chapter Twenty

  ‘They just had to use torches to keep them lit at night,’ I said, trying to keep the tears from spilling into my eyes. ‘They just always have to twist the Sun-damned blade.’

  The Sanctuary was one of the biggest buildings I’d seen outside the Khat’s Pyramid. The cathedral of clay and stone could have housed at least five of my barracks inside its grounds, a large dome and pillars sitting as a crown. There were no other buildings in its shadow, leaving an open moat of sand and dirt around the perimeter, which meant fewer places to hide on an approach.

  And fewer ways to escape.

  The Sanctuary sat at the entrance to the southern cliff face, the site of the infamous Fall. The building was walled up like the city itself, with sleepy towers strategically perched around the perimeter. Dim lights flickered inside the lookouts, but illuminated no faces. Even though I hadn’t spotted any yet, I could only imagine the number of guards, taskmasters, and High Nobility between us and Shilah. Finding her in such a massive maze of rooms, gardens, chambers, and towers might take all night.

  None of that factored into my thinking at the moment.

  I’d become paralysed with rage and indignation after seeing what they had suspended over the front gates. My feet wouldn’t move. My eyes wouldn’t surrender. I couldn’t focus. The Sanctuary had struck me a heavy blow, tossing me into violent currents of anger.

  All this, with something as simple as windows.

  ‘Come, Meshua,’ Dunes said, looking across the expanse, most of his bulk hidden behind the empty outpost where we were all hiding. He had his crossbow slung over his back, his blade at the ready instead. ‘Ignore it and let us find a way in.’

  I held my ground, gnashing my teeth so hard I could feel my jaw spasm. Fire ran through the veins in my left arm. I wanted to burn the whole place to the ground. A part of me was grateful to see such a terrible display of windows before attempting such a heedless rescue, as it intensified the blood-lust tingling in my hands.

  These glaring windows, captured in beautiful detail and adorned with flame, summed up just about everything that was twisted about the World Cried.

  ‘You want a sign,’ I said to Cam, my voice gritty. ‘There’s your sign.’

  ‘What?’ Cam asked, neck craning back with a snap so that he could stare up at the stars. Khatberry juice darkened his fair skin to red so he could blend in better with the night, but despite how much I tried, I couldn’t disguise all the colour in his hair. His movements were haloed with secret streaks of gold. ‘Are they shooting?’

  ‘No,’ I said. ‘The torches. Lighting it up so we can see it all.’

  I didn’t understand why the windows irked me so deeply, considering I’d seen far worse atrocities done to the Jadan people in real life; but I didn’t think it was so much the fact of the deeds themselves, but rather that everything had been glorified with such fine detail, exalted with such artistic skill.

  These Nobles were not only proud of their brutal history.

  They were boastful.

  ‘We must keep moving, Meshua,’ Dunes urged, motioning with his massive blade. ‘We should not attack from the front. I believe we’ll have an easier time p
enetrating at one of the side entrances.’

  I lifted my crossbow and aimed it at the windows.

  The front section of the building was one giant tribute to the Fall, played out in a stained-glass mosaic. The city and cliff were represented by thousands of colourful shards, fitted together to form vivid pictures. Near the top were scenes of Jadans burning alive, both on their knees in prayer and rolling on the ground to try to quench the flames. Dozens of poor souls were shown spilling off the cliff. Lots of red glass had been utilized near the bottom of the windows. There were babies pictured too, mothers having put them in baskets before tossing them off the cliffs. The wicker was being eaten by fire. And looming above everything was an intricately done Closed Eye, refusing to acknowledge the pain happening to his children below.

  The torches ensured the entire heart-wrenching scene could be enjoyed day and night.

  ‘They can’t just be satisfied with their control,’ I said between closed teeth, itching to load my crossbow so I might destroy the terrible display. I couldn’t waste Abbs. ‘They have to make sure everyone else is crushed. It’s wrong.’

  ‘Are you really surprised?’ Split asked.

  The Pedlar’s ashen skin and relatively smooth head had been much easier to smear with the dark Khatberry juice than Cam’s. Split dug his little finger into his ear, rubbing away some of the disguise, and I hoped he wasn’t going to be a liability. I was tempted to give him a bit of the leftover Dream, just to steady his withdrawal.

  This idea came mostly from compassion, as I was having withdrawal of my own.

  For the first time since starting the March, I was separated from both the Coldmaker and my World Partner. Picka was guarding the machine back in the cave, and so I felt naked and broken and exposed. Vile things had already slithered into the gaps.

  ‘He is Meshua,’ Dunes announced in serious tones.

  ‘I wasn’t arguing that,’ Split chided, his eyes narrowing.

  ‘No, I’m not surprised,’ I said, my eyes refusing to move from a poor Jadan whose eyes had been done in black glass. Fire peeled back the skin on his legs revealing a delicately coloured bone. The artist had found accurate shades, careful in the selection. ‘I’m furious.’