“The boy—the one who accompanied you through the forest-sea, and who has been given lodging here in the temple—who is he?”
I reach for my spearstaff, using that extra time to gather my thoughts. “A friend, I think. At the very least, he could have left me there alone, but chose to brave the dangers of being caught at my side by the Deathless.”
The golden-robed priest regards me evenly. “I see. And how long do you intend for him to reside here?”
Did Daoman take the scroll with the lost stanza?I cannot know by looking at him. I cannot tell if he knows I came back not with some talisman or jewel—that the Last Star was not some astronomical sign but rather the fall of a human boy. Has he made that vital connection, realizing that all I brought back with me was … North? Can he have guessed at his identity in our prophecies, the way I did?
I am sure of what I found, I said to him a few minutes ago. I should have stayed silent. I cannot know what the words meant to him.
I sigh, letting a bit of weary irritation flicker in the sound. “I cannot think about that now. Tomorrow, Daoman—tomorrow I will think how to reward him for his service. For now, I have other things on my mind.”
Daoman inclines his head, gesturing for the rather less ornate door that leads not into the audience chamber, but back into the private parts of the temple, through my own corridors. “Rest well, child,” he murmurs.
I can feel his eyes on me, a heavy weight in between my shoulder blades, until the door swings closed again. In the privacy of my own corridor—there are walkways through the temple that only I am allowed to use—I allow myself to give a little shiver.
Scooping up the bindle cat and slinging him over my shoulder, letting his reverberant purr ground me, I make my way down toward the healers’ wing of the temple.
My mind wanders on the journey.
I cannot say for certain why I didn’t tell Daoman about North. I don’t want to believe that my high priest, the man who raised me, could have stolen the scroll, but either way he ought to know what I know about North.
A cloudlander … the first we’ve seen in centuries.
The high priest would consider him a valuable object for study, even if he proves to have nothing to do with my prophecy.
Daoman would never let North leave.
But isn’t that exactly whyyoubrought him here? To make sure he’s close at hand if you need him? Didn’t you yourself think that you couldn’t let him leave?
The bindle cat gives a faint yowl of protest, his claws digging gently into my shoulder blades. I’d been squeezing him—I let my arms relax with an effort. The bindle cat jumps lightly to the marble floor and gives himself a quick little groom, eyeing me crankily. I stoop, apologizing in a low voice, and he waits only a breath or two before butting his head against my chin.
I do desperately want to see Elkisa, and I quicken my steps at the thought. But as soon as I’ve seen her for myself, reminded myself she’s alive and she’s real and she’s here, I know who I must see.
Say nothing, North. Wait for me.
TWELVE
NORTH
I’ve been cooling my heels for about an hour in this waiting room. I’ve already walked a dozen circuits of it, counted the ceiling tiles, composed frustrated speeches to Nimh in my head. It’s not hard, given thatthere’s a life-size statue of her standing right there in the corner.
She stands between two gorgeous tapestries, wearing her circlet crown on her head and a serene expression, her hands lifted toward me as if she’s offering me one of the blessings her people called out for as we walked toward the temple.
The statue is beautiful, of course, but it’s also very … Official Portrait. This is the formal version of Nimh, The Goddess. The stonework could never capture her expressive mouth, the twist of her lips when she’s thinking, the way she tilts her head when she’s trying to figure something out.
Still, I feel like asking the statue if it would like to fill in a few of the gaps in my information, because the list of stuff its flesh-and-blood counterpart didn’t tell me is beginning to seem pretty staggering.
This has gonesofar beyond the edge, I want to tell it, feeling my jaw tighten.
I mean,Idon’t even get statues at home, and I’m a prince. Just saying.
The statue sums up my problem, though, mute as it is. Nimh kept a lot from me, and what I don’t know is why. I thought we were trusting each other—after what we just went through. I thought she wanted to help me.
Butdoesshe want to help me? Even more important,canshe help me? If she’s the closest they’ve got to a mechanic and she doesn’t know what an engine is, then she’s not the answer I’m looking for.
Which means I need to find another way out of this mess. I’ve been here less than a day, and I’ve already nearly died three or four times. I have to find a way home, and as soon as I can.
The archives she mentioned feel like my best bet, but do I have any hope of searching a place like this for what I need? Saelis would know where to look. I’d give about anything to have him with me right now.
