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

as any that the tainted people aren’t a threat,” she says, surprising me.

“Our covenant has remained strong for almost eight hundred years. The

roses take care of us. Surely, if the tainted were something to be afraid of,

the roses would use magic to correct their mutation.”

“Makes sense,” I say, strangely proud of her. And hopeful in a way I

haven’t been before. Maybe something is changing inside Isra.

“I agree,” she says. I can just make out her smile in the near dark. “I’ll

have to remember that when I talk to Junjie about doing away with the

Banished camp.”

I slow again. “You’re going to do it?”

“I am. As soon as I can. After we plant the bulbs tomorrow, I’ll go

straight to his chambers,” she says, squeezing my arm. “But tonight I want

to see you.”

“All right.” I smile down at her, my empty stomach clenching, more

nervous than I thought I would be at the thought. I wonder what she’ll see

when she looks at me tonight? A smile or bared teeth? A man or a

monster? “But I want to give the plants my blood. You’re already weak.”

“No, you can’t,” she says, sounding faintly horrified by the thought.

“It has to be … The roses feed only on …”

“On what?”

“On women,” she says, but there’s something crooked in her voice, a

sharp edge that jabs at the hope inside me. “It’s all right. A little blood

won’t do me any harm.”

“What about a lot of blood?” I ask, putting my finger on what’s

bothering me most about the roses. “You said the roses needed a larger

offering every thirty years. How large?”

She falters again. This time, I don’t pull her along. I stop, and turn to

her, making sure she’s steady on her feet before capturing her face in my

hands. I don’t want her to hide. I need the truth, and there’s just enough

light left for me to see her eyes. She can never lie with her eyes. They will

answer my question, even if her lips will not.

“How large, Isra?” I whisper. “Do you mean … a death?”

Her lips part, and a tiny choking sound escapes her throat. Her eyes

tighten and begin to shimmer the way they do before the Smooth Skin

tears come. “No, not a death,” she lies.

“You swear it?”

“I swear, not one of my people has ever died to feed the roses.” This

time, her eyes tell me she’s speaking the truth. Either she’s getting better

at lying or there’s something that I don’t understand.

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” I mumble beneath my breath.

“What?” she asks.

“Your ways are strange to me.” I sigh, feeling every mile we’ve

walked in the past two days. “Some stranger than others.”

“They’re strange to me, too.” She leans her cheek into my hand, and

for a moment she looks so young, so lost.

“It’s all right.” I wrap my arms around her and pull her close,

dropping my lips to the top of her head, kissing her wild hair.

“Is it terrible that I don’t want to go back?” she asks.

“No,” I say, wishing she’d look up.

“Yes, it is. If you knew …”

“If I knew what?”

She shakes her head and pulls away, until only her fingers touch my

arm. “Nothing. Let’s go. At least there’s food there. I’m starving. I’m sure

you’re hungry, too. We can put off the roses until another night if you’d

like. Needle set you free once. I’m sure she could manage it again.”

“We could eat first and then go,” I say, more curious about the roses

than ever before. “Could your maid—”

“She could,” Isra says. “Or I could crawl up and get us something

from the tower. We keep apples and nuts and other things in the pantry in

the sitting room for something light between meals. It wouldn’t take long

for me to fetch some, especially if you tell me when it’s safe to climb. I

usually have to listen for the guard, but—”

“Why can’t you go in the door?”

“I’m sure Bo has put guards outside,” she says, her tone souring. “He

promised he’d assure my privacy, but I know the way he and his father

work. They watch me. They’ll want to know if I leave my rooms. That’s why

I didn’t take the door on the way out.”

“Then how did you—”

“I jumped,” she says. “From the balcony.”

“Jumped?” The thought makes my stomach flip. I’m a warrior. I’m

not afraid of much. But I’ve seen the height of that tower. “All the way from

the top?”

“Tiered roofs are good for more than decoration. It’s only a ten-foot

drop each time.” She shrugs, but I can hear the pride in her voice. “I’ve

been getting out that way since I was eleven. Getting up takes longer, but

there are lots of stones sticking out from the outer wall. It’s easy to climb in

bare feet.”

“You climb the outside of the tower?”

She nods.

“That’s …” Mad. Outrageous. Courageous. “Impressive,” I finally say.

“Thank you,” Isra says, grinning.

“Crazy. But impressive.” She giggles, and I smile in spite of myself.

“You really do play with fire.”

“I do.” She clears her throat, and her fingers pluck nervously at my

shirt. “So … food and then roses?”

“Yes. I’d like for you to see me. Give you something to dream about

tonight.”

I meant it to be a joke, but there’s nothing funny about the way she

says, “Oh, I’ve already dreamed about you. This morning, in fact.”

My mouth goes dry. “Really?”

“Yes. It was a nice dream,” she says. “A very nice dream.”

“Isra …,” I warn, not sure which one of us I’m warning, or what will

happen if the warning is ignored.

“Gem …” She mimics my tone so perfectly, I can’t help but smile. And

grunt.

She laughs as she steps closer, wrapping her arm around my waist.

After the slightest hesitation, I put my arm around her shoulders and we

walk—hips bumping, her cheek pressed to my chest—and for now we are

just a boy and a girl, walking the desert under a sky full of stars.

FIFTEEN

ISRA

CLIMBING is harder than it’s ever been before.

My arms tremble and my fingers cramp. My breath comes fast and

my toes slip more times than I’d like—especially knowing Gem’s watching

from below, close to where we’ve hidden the bulbs beneath a shallow layer

of dirt in the fallow cabbage field.

I wanted to impress him, but by the time I pull myself up and over

the edge of the third roof, I’m wishing I’d found some way to distract the

guards and gone through the wretched door.

I’m starving and exhausted, and not certain I’m going to make it to

the top. It makes me think about my mother, about what it must have been

like to jump from the balcony and keep falling and falling. It would be just

my luck to tumble off the tower and break my neck right when I feel ready

to take on the world.

My world, anyway. Yuan seems smaller after my days in the desert.

More manageable, somehow. Even thoughts of the power struggles and

hard talks and difficult decisions in my future don’t daunt me. I feel strong.

In mind. In spirit.

The flesh, however …

By the time I drag myself over the balcony ledge, I’m covered in a

cold sweat and shaking from head to toe. I collapse on the stone floor in a

grateful heap, breathing hard, my heart beating in my stomach, my head

throbbing so fiercely, colors bloom in my darkness. My bones vibrate like

bells after they’re rung too hard, but I’m alive. I made it.

“Thank the ancestors,” I sigh, then giggle softly to myself.

I don’t know why I find it funny to say things Gem says, but I do. I