Even the Darkest Stars (Even the Darkest Stars #1)

“River!” I cried, grabbing his arm. But it was too late—all traces of the mysterious markings had been obliterated.

“You worry too much,” he said. “You’ll never make a good explorer if you’re always troubling yourself over things that don’t matter. Though I have to admit, I’m flattered by your concern. What would you have done if I had been eaten by a wild animal?”

I glared at him. I was still holding his arm, and released it hurriedly. “After I finished celebrating, you mean?”

He began to laugh. I left him to it and went to collect my breakfast. I hunched over my bowl, muttering to myself. Tem appeared moments later, and gave me a strange look.

“What’s wrong now?”

“Oh, just River,” I said, taking a vicious chomp out of a piece of dried yak meat. “I think he’s trying to drive me as mad as he is.”

Tem, for some reason, looked irritated at this. “Right. I’m sure that’s what he’s doing.”

I finished my breakfast and stared mournfully into the empty bowl. “I can’t believe I thought these rations would be enough.”

Tem, who had barely taken a bite of his sampa cake, handed it to me. “Here.”

I pushed it away. “You need to keep up your strength.” Tem still looked tired from yesterday’s hike. I hoped and prayed that his body would adjust to the demands of the journey.

He shook his head, coughing. “I don’t like how Dargye makes it. Too salty.”

“I think at this point I would eat dirt if it wouldn’t make me sick.”

We were packed and ready to depart within the hour. I gave the yak one final inspection, checking that her straps were secure but not too tight, and that her hooves were in good condition. If the beast were to sustain an injury, it would be disastrous. I rubbed the base of her horns, and she grunted with pleasure.

“Did you see anything strange last night?” I murmured, stroking her hair, which had a silky texture and smelled like summer grass. She gazed at me with her large, mournful brown eyes, as if she knew the answer to my question, and it was very dark indeed. The shadows were deep around us, and would remain so until midday, in this land of sharp valleys and snowy peaks that scraped the sky. Shaking off my apprehension, I gave the yak’s lead a tug and we set out, the others falling into step behind us.

“Dare you to jump in,” Tem said after dinner the next night, our third since leaving Azmiri. We sat side by side, dipping our feet in the pool of glacial meltwater beside the rocky meadow that would be our campsite. We had made good time again, reaching our destination several hours before sunset. We could have pushed on toward tomorrow’s campsite, but I knew the opportunity for rest was more important. Not that I needed it—apart from a blister or two, I could have kept going all night—but the others did, particularly Tem.

I watched as he leaned forward to splash water across his bare chest. The droplets glinted against his skin, slipping between the planes of muscle and bone. I remembered who I was looking at, and glanced away, feeling vaguely guilty. It wasn’t that Tem lacked strength—he could lift a year-old calf without breaking a sweat, and I suspected that his already-muscular build would one day rival Dargye’s—but he wasn’t built for endurance. When we were ten, I convinced him to hike to Nila Lake, a glittering blue pool fed by the Karranak glacier. It was a six-hour, uphill journey, and halfway there Tem had one of his breathing attacks, so bad his lips turned gray. There had always been something wrong with his lungs, even when he was a baby. He took medicine now that Chirri prepared for him, and submitted himself weekly to her healing chants. It seemed to keep the attacks at bay, but he still tired more easily than other boys his age.

“Come on,” Tem said. “I bet you can’t touch the bottom.”

I shrugged, watching the water swirl and ripple around my feet, the chill soothing the blister forming on my left heel.

Tem bumped his shoulder against mine. “You’ve been distracted all day. What’s wrong? Is it Lusha?”

I gazed over the mountains, the here-and-there patches of melting snow, the meadow grass speckled with clover and blue poppies. “I thought we’d catch them by now.”

“They’re moving fast,” Tem said. “It makes sense. Mara wants to stay ahead of River and reach Raksha first.”

I glowered at those words. Lusha would not reach Raksha first. Every hour that passed made me more determined to catch up to them. I still didn’t know what I would do when we did—either hug her or shout at her, or grab her by the shoulders and shake her until her teeth rattled and she agreed to turn around.

I supposed I could do all three.

I dragged a stick across the damp soil. “I feel like I’m missing something.”

Tem nodded slowly. “I feel the same. It’s hard to believe Lusha would do something like this for gold, no matter how much Mara offered.”

I thought about the charts I had found in the observatory, Lusha’s mysterious notes. I’m trying to work something out.

“Mara wants River’s position,” I said. “Maybe he offered her something more than gold.”

“Like what?”

I shook my head, frustrated. “I don’t know.”

“So what do you want to do?”

Laughter floated toward us from the campfire, where the others were gathered. I gazed at them, and an idea occurred to me.

“I want to learn more about this mysterious talisman,” I said.

I rose, and Tem followed. But before he could take a step, he suddenly doubled over, coughing.

I touched his arm. “Are you all right?”

He nodded, clearing his throat. “Fine.”

“You don’t sound fine. Have you been taking Chirri’s medicine?”

“Yes.” He brushed me away. “Don’t worry, Kamzin, it’s nothing I haven’t dealt with before. What’s your plan?”

I frowned, unconvinced, but the look on Tem’s face told me that further argument would get us nowhere. I squinted at the sheer wall of rock that towered over the meadow. It was glacial stone, layered and crumbly. Rhododendrons poked up here and there from narrow shelves. A smile spread across my face.

“Kamzin?” Tem said warily.

I pulled my boots back on, ignoring the bits of grass stuck to my wet feet. Then I marched back to the fire.

He was sitting with his back to the flames, drinking butter tea and talking—of course talking—to Norbu in a low voice. His hair was damp from washing, and fell loosely against his forehead. He glanced up and smiled as he saw me approaching—a sudden, unguarded smile that struck me unexpectedly like a physical thing, making my steps falter.

“Kamzin,” River said, “would you like to join us?”

“No thanks,” I said. “Actually, I’m feeling restless. I thought that, since we’re nearing the Nightwood, I’d survey the area before dark. You can’t be too careful.”

“If you like,” he said. “But you shouldn’t go alone. I’ll come with you.”

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