as anything but a weak, scared false prophet now? And if they were banking on a miracle, how would we ever harvest enough to please the Dust Soldiers?
“People love a mystery,” she said almost apologetically. “But you did half that spell. And I’ll make sure to tell everybody what a good job you’re doing.”
“Thanks,” I said. “Really.”
“Well, I’d better get going,” she said. “Try not to worry about Asa. Everything will sort itself out. You know, you should go see him. Go and talk it out.”
“Maybe I should,” I said. My penny thrummed against my breastbone. “Maybe I will. It couldn’t make things worse, I guess. Thanks, Lucy.” I stood there for a moment, unsure of what to do. Hug her goodbye? Wave? I felt like I needed to do something. “Well…” I said finally. “See you later, I guess.”
“Wait a minute,” she said, grabbing my wrist. She pulled me back and stopped me in front of her, looked up at me in a scrutinizing sort of way that made my heart give a sudden, strange thud. Then she reached up and tucked a piece of my hair behind my ears.
“There you go, girl.” She smiled. “Pretty as a picture.”
Then, with a flounce of her bright flour-sack skirt, she turned and headed back out into the streets, leaving me fighting back a blush.
No one had ever called me pretty before.
CHAPTER 9
3 MONTHS
AND
15 DAYS
REMAIN.
Asa had been hiding for three days—far longer than it had taken to rebuild his body. He had lain there, half-corporeal on the bloodstained floor, unable to think or feel, and when he woke again, his stomach was nearly turning itself inside out with hunger. He rose gingerly and ate a pound of raw salt pork rations in one gulp. He followed this with six eggs, shells and all, and drank nearly a case of water rations before he stopped to catch his breath.
Asa went to the bathroom, washed up, and pulled on a clean set of clothes. In the mirror, he looked thin, wan, used up. He didn’t feel 100 percent better, but he ran a comb through his hair anyway and put on his spectacles with the shattered lens. Magic was no joke. It regenerated, of course, but he would have to pace himself better next time. And on top of all of it, the people of Elysium just wouldn’t leave him alone.
When he opened his door the morning after the dust storm, there had been a crowd of people on his doorstep.
“Can I help you?” Asa asked.
But they’d all begun speaking at once, shouting, clamoring as they pushed forward.
“Help us, please!” they cried. “Use your magic!”
“My daughter is Dust Sick!” one woman said, grabbing his hand and squeezing it in hers. “Can you please come and see her? Come and heal her!”
“I’m sorry, ma’am.” Asa pulled his hand from hers. “But I… My magic doesn’t work like…”
“We know what you can do!” she shouted. “You can do what even Mother Morevna can’t! You’ve been sent to help us all! To get us out of this mess!”
“I—I don’t know about that, ma’am!” he said. “I’m just a magician! I—I can do a little magic here and there, but I’m just a magician! I—”
But the crowd didn’t want to see a trick. They wanted real magic. Powerful, impossible magic. They wanted a way out of this terrible, miserable Game, once and for all.
“Help us!” shouted a man in the crowd. “Lead us out of this desert! We believe!”
“We believe!” they chanted. “We believe!”
Everyone was so close. Too close. Asa sent a pulse of magic and sent them staggering. Then he ran back inside and shuttered all the windows, locked the doors. Terrified, he crawled under the kitchen table and waited for the people to leave. For the next two days, he’d barely moved, except to slink to the kitchen to eat and make coffee. And though the crowds had dwindled to only one or two visitors per day, there had been a number of letters and notes slipped under his door, no doubt requesting some kind of supernatural aid he had no authority to give.
So when he heard someone knock on his door, Asa held his breath and waited for whoever it was to go away.
“I know you’re in there,” said a female voice. “And you and I need to talk.”
Uh-oh, Asa thought. Maybe if I slip out the window?
“It’s Sal Wilkerson,” the girl said, getting irritated. “The one who let you in! So return the favor!”
He