The Other Side of the Sky - Amie Kaufman Page 0,90
Congress of Elders supported me. That is why his niece Hiret sent her husband and his brother to escort me on the journey that led me to you.”
North is quick to understand. “The people at the camp,” he whispers.
I nod again, this time because I dare not speak for fear of weeping.
North straightens, moving forward so that he can turn, putting himself between me and the lighted window. “Let’s just take one of these boats, Nimh—you’re a goddess, and you’re fleeing for your life.”
I shake my head. “We must ask. A riverstrider’s barge will not work without its keystone.” I give him a little smile, though, for what he’s trying to do. “We would be better off rowing ourselves in a fishing boat.”
I steel myself, wishing I could summon something more gracious than dread. “Wait here.”
North gives a stubborn shake of his head. “I’m going with you.”
I open my mouth to protest, but when I catch sight of his face and the look of resolve there, I feel more relieved than annoyed by his refusal to do as I ask.
A knock at the door of the houseboat gets no response. I push the door open cautiously. I call a soft greeting, unable to risk anything louder. I exchange glances with North, and he puts a finger to his lips, creeping carefully toward the narrow, ladder-like staircase leading up to the second floor. There, faint light shines in the hall.
I let him go first, for in these cramped quarters, it’d be impossible to avoid being touched by an attacker, or even just a surprised apprentice or riverstrider coming out of a room. I pause at the top of the ladder as North vanishes around the corner. He’s gone only a few seconds, but by the time he stumbles back out, my heart is pounding.
His face has gone ashen, his expression one of mixed fear and revulsion, and he whispers, “There’s someone here, but … he’s, um … There’s something wrong with his face… .”
My chest gives a little squeeze and a lurch. “Quenti,” I murmur, and gesture for North to move so I can go into the little room.
He lies where I saw him last, the colorful quilts covering his form contrasting with the pallor of his skin. My breath stops all over again when I see him. I can’t tell if he is better for my attempts at healing, although I think maybe his breathing is a little easier, and there are fewer lines of pain creasing his wounded flesh.
Then, to my surprise, the puffy eyelids squeeze once, then open.
“Quenti?” I whisper, lurching forward a few steps until I can lean my staff at the foot of the bed and kneel beside him.
His gaze is vague, and takes some time wandering before focusing with difficulty on my face. “Nimh?” His lips start to curve, but the movement tugs at a wounded place, and he stops with a catch of his breath. Instead, he lifts a hand, disentangling it clumsily from the quilt. “Come here, girl.”
His outstretched hand blurs in my vision. “I cannot,” I whisper. “Quenti, I am the living divine now—don’t you remember?”
“Foolishness,” Quenti mutters, still trying to reach for my hand. “Jezara is young and strong still… . Why won’t you greet me, child?”
My breath catches in a sob, but suddenly North is there, kneeling beside me and offering his hand to the old man instead. When I look at him, blinking to clear my eyes, I see no trace of the sickened recoil I saw in the hallway. When Quenti’s gnarled fingers close around his, he doesn’t shrink away.
My heart gives an almost painful thud, and I must have made some noise, for North looks back at me, brows lifted. Seeing some sign of my emotion, he gives me the tiniest of sad smiles, and tilts his head slightly. Go on.
I swallow the knot in my throat, folding away the tangle of gratitude and grief. Fall apart later. “Quenti—we need a keystone to one of the barges.”
“Mmm,” murmurs the old man. “My ankles are swollen today. Hiret should be here somewhere… . She’s grieving still, poor girl. Misses her mother… .”
His mist-touched mind believes he is years in the past, but he still knows Hiret is drowning in grief.
I shake my head, curling my fingers into the edge of the quilt. “She is not here, Quenti, and we cannot wait for her to return. Do you know where I can find a keystone?”