The wind kept tugging.
Slowly, I rose—just to see what would happen. It led me across the room, and I paused in the doorway. This was probably a bad idea, following a force I didn’t understand. Probably I should ignore the strange tugging wind. Following it would be impulsive and irrational.
But illogical or not, I felt like I could sense the wind’s yearning. And I was too curious to ignore it. After all, how many people had ever been pulled by the wind before? How could I resist?
Paz cheeped, uncertain. I stroked his head. “It’s okay,” I murmured. “We’re not going to do anything dangerous. We’re justgoing to…walk.” I could stop anytime I liked if it felt like things were getting risky.
Pulling on my blazer, I left the Keep. The wind tugged at my braids, pushed against my calves, steered me by my back. I hadn’t felt such a strong wind yet. Maybe this was the Clo, the first of the Trio Winds, which came in early winter. They were supposed to be so strong and fierce they could brush the whole world clean.
I had no problem letting it lead me across campus and over the land bridge. I hesitated when it led me out of the Scholars’ Quarter into the larger city beyond. The rain had grown from droplets to a steady drizzle, and part of me wanted to go home, to be safe and dry.
But then I would always wonder.
I walked for over two hours, even as the rain increased, even as I started to shiver in the cold and the wet. Water dripped over my eyes and mouth. Paz made nervous sounds, and I moved him to the inside pocket of my blazer, murmuring comforting words. I could have given up—I wasn’t trapped in the wind’s thrall—but every time I considered stopping, I also thought about how rare this was and how it might never happen again. I was driven by the same kernel of curiosity that made me want to decipher the scrolls: a desperate curiosity, a longing for knowledge. I wanted to know what the wind whispered. I didn’t want to turn my back and spend the rest of my life wondering.
The wind and rain stopped.
I was in a city park I’d never visited. Larger than most, so big you could almost believe you weren’t in a city—a deception helped by the valley in the center and the sides rimming it that almost hid the rest of Talum. On the crest of a hill in the distancestood a tiny gazebo; to my left, the rocky hillside opened to reveal a cave. I entered, breathing in the cool scent of running water and growing green things, complementary to the rain dripping off me. A waterfall trickled down the glazed black rock, collecting in a shallow pool that must have then drained into the earth. The water ran over a carving of three gazelles running. This was, I realized, the Naphtali Quarter, my mother’s people. I’d never visited before. Above the gazelles the three Great Beasts had been carved in sharp relief—the massive land beast, the Behemoth; the sea monster, the Leviathan; and the ruler of the air, the Ziz.
And there, in the shadows tucked away in the craggy rock face, a deeper shadow caught my attention. I stepped toward it, my breath quickening. There was an intensity to the blackness unlike any I’d seen before.
Paz started cheeping, but I kept moving forward, fascinated by the opening leading deeper inside the cave.
“What are you doing?”
I spun. Daziel stood in the cave’s entrance, his face pale. I’d never seen him look worried before. Paz chirped in delight and jumped over to Daziel’s arm.
“Betrayer,” I murmured, then to Daziel, “I’m listening to the wind. I think it wanted to show me—”
When I turned, the opening was gone. I blinked. “There was a crack. Right there.”
Daziel crouched where I gestured, pressing his hand to the wall. Paz scampered up his shoulder, diffusely lighting the area with a warm orangish glow.
Daziel turned back to me, gaze focused. “Why did you listen to the wind?”
I spread my hands, surprised by his intensity. “Who could ignore it?”
He didn’t smile at my teasing tone. “This whole city was built by people who try to ignore it. You don’t live with the wind; you live against it. You build stone walls to keep it out, you talk about shields—”
“That’s not fair,” I interrupted, stung by his admonishing tone. I hated being scolded—andDazielwas supposed to be the one baffled by norms and customs. Him lecturing me unbalanced our dynamic. “Talumizans are proud of the winds. The Maestril, the spring wind, is part of the ecosystem. It blows away the grit other winds blow in and dries out the earth for the harvest.”
“But why did you follow this one?”
I didn’t understand why he was harrying me over this. “Don’t you think if most people felt the wind tugging them, they’d want to know why?”
“People with sense would think strange magic best ignored.”
I couldn’t argue there, so I looked back where the crack had been. “What do you think it was? The opening.”
“I don’t know.”
“I’ve heard the whole island is riddled with caves,” I said. “The winds and river made them thousands of years ago, they say—there’s networks everywhere.”
“Then I’d assume it led into the caves,” Daziel said. “Do you think, perhaps, you’d be willing to give up following the winds and head home for tonight?”
I still had no idea what had drawn me here, what—if anything—the wind wanted. Maybe it was all in my head. “I wish I knew what it was. Or at least knew it wassomething.”
“I suspect it’d be like picking at a scab. Best not to. And maybe don’t wander off after the wind without letting me know in the future.”
