Cress (The Lunar Chronicles #3) - Marissa Meyer Page 0,69

hunger, Cress pulled the bowl onto her lap. She nibbled slowly at first, trying to identify the Earthen foods. Peas she easily recognized—they had those on Luna too—but there were some other sorts of vegetables that she didn’t know, mixed with rice and covered in a thick, aromatic sauce.

She scooped out a chunk of something yellowish and firm. She bit into it, and discovered it was tender and steaming on the inside.

“Don’t they have potatoes where you come from?”

Cress jerked her head up, and saw Jina watching her curiously. She gulped. “This sauce,” she said quietly, hoping Jina wouldn’t notice her evading the question. Potatoes, of course! Luna’s potatoes were a darker color, with a flakier texture. “What is it?”

“Just a simple curry. Do you like it?”

She nodded enthusiastically. “Very much. Thank you.”

Realizing that all eyes had turned to her again, she hastily shoveled the rest of the potato into her mouth, though the spices were making her cheeks flush. As she ate, a plate of dried meats was passed to her—she did not ask from what animal—and then a bowl filled with a juicy orange fruit and sweet, green-tinted nuts that were full of so many more flavors than the protein-nuts Sybil had often brought for her.

“Are you traders?” Thorne asked, accepting the handful of shelled nuts that Cress pressed into his palm.

“We are,” said Jina. “We make this trek four times a year. I am upset by the threat of thieves. We haven’t had such trouble in ages.”

“Desperate times,” said Thorne with a shrug. “If you don’t mind my asking, why camels? It makes your way of life seem very … second era.”

“Not at all. We make our living serving many of the smaller communities in the Sahara, many of which don’t even have magnets on their own streets, much less on the trade routes between them.”

Cress noticed Thorne’s hand tightening around his bowl. The Sahara. So her stargazing had been correct. But his expression remained impassive and she forced hers to do the same.

“Why not use wheeled vehicles then?”

“We do occasionally,” said one of the men, “for special circumstances. But the desert does harsh things to machinery. They’re not as reliable as the camels.”

Jina took a few slices of the sticky sweet fruit and added it to the top of her curry. “This may not be a luxurious life, but we stay busy. Our towns rely on us.”

Cress listened attentively, but kept her attention on the food. Now that they were safe, sheltered, and fed, she was developing a new fear: that at any moment, one of these men or women might look at her and see something different, something not quite … Earthen.

Or that they would recognize Thorne, one of the most-wanted fugitives on the planet.

Whenever she dared to look up, she found their focus pinned on her and Thorne. She hunkered over her bowl of food, trying to fend off their prying eyes, and hoped that no one spoke to her. She became certain that any word she said would mark her as different, that simply by meeting their gazes she would give herself away.

“Not many tourists come through here,” said Jina’s husband, Niels. “Any foreigners are usually just here for mining, or archeology. This side of the desert’s been almost forgotten since the outbreaks started.”

“We heard the outbreaks aren’t half as bad as rumored,” said Thorne, lying with an ease that astonished Cress.

“You heard wrong. The plague outbreak is as bad as they think. Worse.”

“Which town were you traveling to?” asked Jina.

“Oh—whichever one you’re going to,” Thorne said, not missing a beat. “We don’t want to burden you. We’ll take our leave in any town with a netscreen. Er … you wouldn’t happen to have any portscreens on hand, would you?”

“We do,” said the oldest woman, perhaps in her fifties. “But net access is fickle here. We won’t have a good connection until we get to Kufra.”

“Kufra?”

“The next trading town,” said Niels. “It will take us another day to get there, but you should be able to find whatever you need.”

“We’ll rest today and tonight and set out tomorrow,” said Jina. “You need to replenish yourself, and we want to avoid the high sun.”

Thorne flashed a most grateful smile. “We can’t thank you enough.”

A bout of dizziness spun through Cress’s head, forcing her to set down the bowl.

“You don’t look well,” someone said, she wasn’t sure who.

“My wife was feeling ill earlier.”

“You should have said. She could have heat sickness.” Jina stood, setting aside