Of Beast and Beauty - Jay Stacey (читать хорошую книгу txt) 📗

that nature doesn’t intend to keep.

“It won’t be cold forever.”

“It will. My nose will never be warm again.”

“Good thing blue suits you,” he says, making my lips twitch. “Have

you spoken to Junjie?”

“I speak to him every day. Several times a day. Whether I like it or

not.”

“You know what I mean.”

I sigh. “I do.” I sit back on my heels and tilt my face up, soaking in

what warmth I can from the weak winter light penetrating the dome. Our

great shield is made of ancient glass, designed by our ancestors to block the

damaging rays of the sun, specially treated to keep the city from growing

too hot during the summer or too cold during the winter. Still, the air is

chilly in the winter months.

According to Gem, it’s even colder in the desert. If it weren’t for the

risk of Monstrous attack, it would be possible for a citizen of Yuan to

venture outside the city for a short time without fearing sun damage.

But there is the risk of attack. Gem’s tribe is only one of many. The

other tribes—those farther to the east and the south—have left our city in

peace until now, but they wouldn’t hesitate to kill a Smooth Skin found

wandering their lands. I can’t ask the soldiers to put their lives in danger,

and Junjie will never allow Gem through the gate alone. His people have

withdrawn deep into the wilds. They’ve left our city alone, as they

promised, and Gem is the reason. Junjie won’t risk having our good-luck

charm running off into the desert, never to return.

I would agree with him, but I know Gem’s legs aren’t healing as well

as we’d hoped. He can’t stand for more than a few hours at a time—hence

the slow pace of our ground breaking. He would never make it to his

people’s winter camp on foot, but he could make it to the mountains where

the bulbs we need grow, and back to the Hill Gate. And he would come

back. He doesn’t want to die of starvation in the desert. He’s as committed

to living as the people of Yuan.

So committed, he nearly has me convinced that he doesn’t hate me

anymore.

Nearly.

I haven’t hated him for a long time. I like how steady he is with his

work, how he hums beneath his breath when he hoes, the stories he tells,

the jokes he makes about Yuan and our abundance of cabbage, even the

way he teases me about my big hands and clumsy feet. I like him. Sadly,

aside from Needle, my monster prisoner is the best friend I’ve ever had.

“Isra? The bulbs?”

“Tell me a story,” I say. “Something scary where terrible things

happen to bad creatures.”

“If I can’t leave the city, I can’t get the bulbs or seeds we’ll need,”

Gem says, refusing to play along the way he usually does.

“I know. I’ve known that since we started.” I scratch at my wrist,

wincing as paper-thin pieces of myself fall away. My skin is worse than ever.

The winter never agrees with it, but this winter has been especially brutal.

Needle washes the skin everywhere but my face and neck twice a day in

milk and honey, but still, I’m falling to pieces. “Well …” I force myself to

stop scratching with a sigh. “You’ll just have to leave the city, I suppose.”

“When?” There’s hunger in his voice. Is it hunger for escape or simply

for a few hours of freedom? I don’t know, and I don’t want to know. In the

past two months, my time with Gem has become the bright spot in my day.

If he were to leave …

“Remember your promise,” I say softly. “You’re to stay here.

Forever.”

“There’s no such thing as forever,” he says. “And I promised nothing.

No one speaks for me. Not even my father.”

“Psh.” I pick the rocks from my pocket, chucking them out into the

grass at the edge of the field one by one. I’ll have to pick them up again

later, but I don’t care. It will give me more time to figure out what to do

about the seeds. “Parents make promises for their children all the time. I

was promised to this city before I was even conceived.”

“And it’s clear how pleased you are by it,” he says.

“Don’t let Junjie hear you say that.”

“Why not? Why not tell him yourself, and let them find another

queen?”

My arm falters, and the rock in my hand falls. “That’s not the way it

works,” I say, running my fingers along the ground until I find the stone

again. “You know that by now.”

He grunts. “Well, then … why not leave? The desert wind isn’t

something any living thing should do without,” he says, dangling the words

like bait on the end of a line.

“A blind girl. In the desert. Alone. That sounds like a wonderful plan,

Gem, but I have responsibilities here,” I say, wishing I’d never let him know

how much I crave the feel of the wind on my face. I throw my rock. Hard,

using the full strength in my long arm. “Besides, I need this garden. A

mutant queen isn’t good for the city.”

He’s quiet for a long, strained moment that makes my skin start to

itch all over again.

“Yes?” I ask, recognizing his “about to say something Isra won’t like”

silence. “What is it?”

“It’s … I’m not sure the garden will give you what you’re looking for.”

I cross my legs, letting my heavy pockets flop at my sides as I tilt my

chin up, fixing him with my full attention. “But the herbs and bulbs we’ll

plant will reverse or inhibit mutation,” I remind him. “You’ve said so

yourself. What about the Monstrous babies born with scales covering their

eyes? And the boys whose teeth would grow too large to fit their mouths

without the herbs your healers administer when they’re children?”

“The healing pouches have helped my people,” he says, groaning as

he settles on the ground across from me. His legs seem to hurt the most

when he’s standing up or sitting down. “But you are what you are. There’s

no changing that.”

“Maybe not, but there’s a chance to stop it before it gets any worse.”

I drop my voice to a whisper, suddenly very conscious of the soldiers across

the field. “I’m … growing.”

“And?” Gem asks in a way that makes it clear he thinks I’m being

ridiculous.

“I’m already the tallest person in the city, and I’m still growing,” I say,

wishing I had a rock left to chuck at him. “My new mourning dresses are

bursting at the seams. I thought Needle had made a mistake in her sewing,

but her measurements were correct when she took them four months ago.

She didn’t think to re-measure. I’m sure she assumed it was impossible for

me to get any bigger.”

“My people grow until eighteen or older. Isn’t it the same for Smooth

Skins?”

“No, it’s not,” I say, though I’m not completely sure, not having been

around any growing girls besides Needle and not remembering when my

maid stopped stretching. “At least not the way I am. But it’s not only me I’m

worried about. It’s come to my attention that there are others who need

this garden even more than I do.”

Others who will be grateful for the work I’m doing here, and who will

help me prove that I am a true queen, more than a sacrifice or an

entertaining source of gossip.

“What others?”

“The other tainted, the ones with more severe mutations. The rest of

the city won’t tolerate them,” I say, anxiety rising in my chest. “Bo says

their situation is worse than I knew.”

Baba told me about the Banished, but he never told me how cruelly

they were treated. Bo was surprised that I didn’t know the rules for the

outcasts. I lied and told him that Baba rarely discussed city matters with

me, but I’m sure Bo guessed the real reason the king kept the worst aspects