“Because she’s beautiful. Don’t you think she’s beautiful, Lukien?”
“White-Eye is very beautiful,” I agreed. “But so are you, Cricket.”
“C’mon.” She rode on without looking at me. “I’m plain. Like this place where I was born.” She sighed and took in our brown surroundings. “I’ve seen how men look at White-Eye, Lukien. Even you.”
I shook my head. “Not me. Never.”
“Yes, you. You just don’t realize it. Don’t feel bad about it.”
“I have a woman, Cricket. I don’t need another.”
“Who, Cassandra?” She turned toward me. “Lukien, she’s dead.”
“She’s alive. Just not where we can see her. But I talked to her. I told you-in the Story Garden. She’s waiting for me there.”
“She’s gonna have a long wait as long as you carry that sword.”
“You’re changing the subject. You are beautiful, Cricket. You’re becoming a lovely young woman.”
“No.”
Now I was puzzled. One thing I know about women-they like being complimented. And it doesn’t matter their age. Once they’re old enough to look in a mirror, flattery gets them smiling. Except Cricket wasn’t smiling at all. She’d gone from happy to gloomy in just a few seconds.
“I’m confused,” I confessed. “You’re jealous of White-Eye because she’s pretty, but you don’t want me to think you’re pretty too. Why not?”
“You’re just lying to me, Lukien.” She pulled the cape I’d made her close around her shoulders. “I’m plain and that’s how I want to be. I’m not like White-Eye. Is White-Eye out here in the middle of nowhere?”
“She’s in Jador. I’m still not getting it, Cricket.”
“That’s right, she’s safe in her palace. Let her be beautiful there. She doesn’t have to worry.”
“Worry about what?”
“Anything. She doesn’t have to worry about anything, Lukien. She knows who she is, where she belongs, who her mother was. .” Cricket stopped herself. “What’s that?”
“What?”
“That.” She pointed on ahead of us. “A meadow?”
I’d been so flustered I hadn’t even noticed. But there it was, blocking our way, spread out between the hills and dotted with a hundred colors: a meadow of wildflowers. Lit by the sun, I could see the bees darting through the blooms. The breeze carried the perfume.
“Now that’s beautiful,” I said. “See? You weren’t born in such an ugly place after all.”
Cricket’s bad mood broke like a fever. “Can we ride through it?” she asked excitedly.
“No choice. We can rest there. The horses need a break, and you must be hungry.”
“You too, right?”
I hardly ever got hungry any more, but I nodded. The truth is the sword gave me almost all the strength I needed. I let Cricket lead us deep into the flowers, marveling at the colors of heather and daisies. The blooms shot knee-high to our horses, rippling like water as we made a wake through them. We were in an ocean, with great, nodding sunflowers and tiny buttercups alive with lady bugs. The sweet smell reminded me of Jadori honey. Cricket laughed, driving her pony farther through the blooms, until she pronounced the perfect spot.
“Here,” she declared, and dismounted. Flowers tickled her legs and her skin reflected the yellow sun. I looked at her and thought, yes, this girl is beautiful.
We took the blankets from our horses, laying them along the ground to make a camp for ourselves. I showed Cricket how to water a horse out of a canteen, and once our mounts were taken care of we broke out the provisions Marilius had given us. As Cricket wedged her bread and meat together, I stretched out to stare at the blue sky. Before long, Cricket nestled down beside me.
“No clouds,” she remarked, disappointed. “I like seeing the shapes.”
The sky was almost too bright. I closed my eye and watched the shapes appearing on my eyelid instead. I heard Cricket sigh, and I wondered again why she had argued about being pretty. Surely she knew what she looked liked. Surely she’d noticed boys watching her.
“Oh. .”
“What?” she nudged.
I understood, but couldn’t say so. I wanted to tell her I’d protect her, that she didn’t have to worry about another letch like Wrestler. But the truth was I couldn’t do that forever. She was my mission-for now-but one day she’d be a woman in a man’s world. So I lied.
“Nothing. I was thinking about Malator.”
“What about him?”
“Just talking to him.”
“In your head, you mean.” Cricket made a grumbling noise. “That bothers me sometimes.”
I turned my head to look at her. “It bothers you when I talk to Malator?”
“Sometimes,” said Cricket. She kept staring into the blue sky, like she was afraid of my reaction. “You talk to him but I can’t hear it. Just feel left out sometimes. I wish I could see him too.”
“I know, but it’s impossible, Cricket. An Akari can only appear to his host. No one can talk to Malator but me.”
That’s not true.
Malator’s voice startled me. “Huh?”
Cricket grimaced. “You’re talking to him now, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, he. . huh?”
You said: I can’t appear to anyone but you, Lukien. That’s not true.
“What’s not true?” I sat up, seeing Malator in my mind.
I never said I can’t appear to anyone else, said Malator. I said no one else can see me.
“What? What’s the difference?”
My choice, obviously.
“Lukien, could you two talk quietly?” asked Cricket. “I’m trying to rest. Do that thing in your head, okay?”
I was rattled. None of the Inhumans-not even Minikin-had ever shown me their Akari. I got to my feet as though facing Malator.
“Are you telling me you can make yourself visible? Cricket can see you?”
Malator smiled. That’s right.
“You mean in her head, right?” I pressed. “Not really see you. Not the way real people see each other.”
I don’t just live inside that sword you wear, Lukien. I’m a being! I’m alive. And I told you-I’m more powerful than you think. If Cricket wants to see me, she can.
I stepped back, looked down at Cricket, and caught her confused gaze. “What is it?” she asked.
“Do you want to see Malator?” I held out my hand for her.
“Really?” She let me pull her to her feet.
I shrugged. “I don’t know. He says you can see him!” Stunned, I crossed my arms. “All right, Malator. Show me.”
The air before me shimmered. Like a ghost-like always-he appeared. Only this time, when I glanced at Cricket, her mouth dropped open. Malator winked to mock me, then floated to stand before Cricket, his Akari cape catching an unseen breeze. His handsome face, unmarked by all the battles he’d fought, shined like a copper penny. He put out a hand in greeting, stretching his smoky fingers toward her.
“I am Malator,” he said in a perfectly clear voice. “And I am pleased to meet you, Cricket.”
Cricket held her breath as she put out her own hand. I watched, surprised that Malator could seem so substantial, as their fingers met. Cricket’s eyebrow’s shot up.
“Oh! Cold.”
Like the grave, I wanted to say. Malator had never revealed himself to anyone else, and I was already jealous of Cricket’s admiration. Her eyes twinkled, encouraging him. Malator bent and kissed her hand.
“You’re Lukien’s brave squire,” he said. “I’m honored to know you.”
Cricket’s hand fell away slowly. “Thank you. You’re not the way I thought you’d be. You’re so young looking. I thought you were a soldier.”
“Soldier, sorcerer, lover, and voyager,” said Malator. “I am an Akari, after all. You should know more about us after living with Inhumans so long. Lukien should tell you.”
“I do tell her,” I said. “And look who’s keeping secrets! You never told me you could appear to others! Since when?”
“Lukien, I’m not just any Akari,” said Malator. “When will you understand that? I’m not here just to keep you alive-I’m here to make you into something special. Like me!”