Spin the Dawn - Elizabeth Lim Page 0,71

were so loose they sagged from my hips. If I was hungry, Edan had to be hungrier. He always ate less than I did, saying, in his proud way, that enchanters didn’t starve.

I wasn’t sure I believed him anymore.

Edan whistled, maintaining a mask of cheerfulness as he led us toward mountains too far for me to see. I worried that even if he was in danger, he’d never tell me. He was arrogant like that. Too proud to admit any weakness.

Tonight, I resolved—tonight I would stay awake and find out what he was hiding from me.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

My head jerked up. Milk’s reins were in my hands, and I was in the saddle again, my legs folded just in front of her hump. I didn’t remember falling asleep.

Rubbing my eyes, I turned to Edan, then to the sky. It was just past dawn, and he was human.

I gritted my teeth. Edan had thwarted my plans somehow. There was no way I would have fallen asleep—not unless he’d…

I crossed my arms indignantly. “Did you enchant me?”

“Why, good morning to you, too.”

“Did you enchant me into falling asleep?” I demanded again.

Edan raised a hand, motioning for me to be quiet. He pulled Snowfoot to a stop, and after a rebellious second I did the same with Milk. I shielded my eyes, wishing the wind would stop blasting my hair over my face.

Edan pointed ahead.

Beyond the haze of the desert, I thought I could make out the promise of trees. Trees, flowers, colors I hadn’t seen in days. I looked down. The sand beneath Milk’s hooves had become grittier, almost dirtlike. Around us, brown and yellow bushes rustled. We were close to the end of the desert.

But that wasn’t what had caught Edan’s attention. The smoke of a campfire. Horses. Camels. Men.

“Bandits?” I whispered.

Edan waited a beat before answering. “No.”

Without another word, my companion dismounted his camel and waved at the group ahead.

The strangers had their weapons up in an instant and sprang toward us, but Edan took off his hood and made a courteous bow. “I’m Delann,” he said. Once I’d caught up with him, he touched my shoulder. “This is my cousin, Keton.”

The lie was so smooth I hardly flinched when he introduced me.

I bowed, my movements far stiffer than Edan’s. Hurriedly I removed my hat to cover my chest. I’d stopped binding it weeks ago. “Hello.”

“Orksan,” replied the leader. His skin was bronze, and he wore his dark brown hair braided with beads red as wolfberries. A style popular among Balardans.

I smiled nervously, then bit my lower lip to stop. This was not the time to look like a dolt.

“What brings you two to the Halakmarat?” asked Orksan. He hadn’t lowered his guard. His hand was on the hilt of a sword, and I wished Edan or I carried a weapon. Where was the dagger he’d brought? I didn’t see it on his belt.

“We’re leaving it, actually,” Edan replied.

Orksan eyed our trunks, amplifying my apprehension. “Going into Niyan to trade?”

“Nothing left to trade,” said Edan. “Once we leave the Halakmarat, we’re traveling the Spice Road.”

“What brings you onto the Road? You don’t look like mercenaries. Or merchants.”

“My cousin is a tailor,” Edan said, rather proudly. “The best in the land.”

Orksan cast me a cursory glance. He didn’t look impressed. My pants were torn, and my tunic’s color had faded from a rich green to a dull olive. I shifted self-consciously.

“And yourself?” Orksan asked.

“My father was a merchant on the Road. Married my mother and had me.” Edan faked a charming grin. “I’m no good with coin, I’m afraid, so I’m an explorer. We’re traveling to find my cousin some dyes, then we’ll go to A’landi to open him a shop.”

Without warning, Edan reached for the satchel slung over my shoulder. Orksan and his men raised their weapons, but Edan’s fingers were swift. He withdrew a sleeve I’d been working on for Lady Sarnai.

“See,” he said, displaying the sleeve as if it were a prized jewel. “This is my cousin’s work.”

The sleeve was unfinished, but I’d embroidered gold flowers along the seams, and I’d sewn dozens of tiny pearls along the cuff. Anyone could see that the work was exquisite.

Orksan looked at me with new respect. “Can you mend?”

I opened my mouth, but Edan spoke over me: “In his sleep.”

Orksan’s distrust faded a notch. By now he must have observed that we were unarmed. “My wife is a remarkable cook, but she can’t sew a stitch.” He drew back

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