“Don’t-” Deilin said, but the old woman ignored her.
Isyllt pushed Vienh aside, forced her way into the cabin.
“Company’s coming,” Adam called from the hall.
The lantern kept her from reaching her knife, so Isyllt swung it instead. Distracted by her magic, Kaeru didn’t dodge fast enough; the lamp struck her jaw with a wet crack and slipped from Isyllt’s hand to shatter on the floor. Tendrils of burning oil licked across the wood.
The old woman fell, clutching her face. Vienh coughed and moaned; someone shouted in the corridor. Isyllt crouched, prying Kaeru’s hand away from her bloody mouth and twisting the ring off her finger. Deilin lunged just in time to vanish into the stone.
Isyllt fumbled her ring onto her right hand, sighing as its comforting chill swept through her. Fire crackled at the walls, singed the bottom of the bedsheet. Murai tossed but didn’t wake.
“So the child is a Xian as well?”
“Her mother was, before she became an Assari whore.” The words came out ugly and slurred and Kaeru spat blood. Her jaw was already swelling. A knife flickered into her hand as she sat up and Isyllt rocked backward. “We won’t let them take any more of our children.”
Vienh’s boot caught the woman’s wrist, sent the knife spinning.
“No. I won’t let you take any more of ours.” The smuggler’s blade sank into Kaeru’s throat. With a twist, she pulled it free. A crimson bubble burst on the old woman’s lips as she sank to the floor.
Steel clashed in the hallway. “Can I kill them yet?” Adam shouted.
“As many as you like.” Isyllt pushed herself up; the swaying of the deck rippled her stomach uneasily.
Vienh wiped her blade on her wet trousers and sheathed it. Dodging around the spreading flames, she scooped Murai into her arms. “Bastards,” she hissed. “They dosed her with laudanum.” She glanced at the door, where Adam fought someone in the narrow corridor, then nodded toward the shuttered window. “That way.”
Isyllt ripped the shutters open and tore aside the net curtains. The stink of scorched blood filled the air as the flames spread toward Kaeru’s body. Clumsy and cursing, she clambered out the window, conjuring witchlight against the dark. Vienh passed Murai’s limp form through, then turned to help Adam. By the time both of them scrambled out, the flames were high enough to hold the Dai Tranh at bay.
“Company,” Vienh said, pointing toward the bay, where ship lights approached. “The Khas?”
“Probably.”
The smuggler slipped over the side, surfacing to take Murai. As she dropped into the water, Isyllt prayed that Zhirin had taken care of the nakh.
The ship burned slowly in the rain, but it burned. By the time they neared the shore, the flames scattered gold and orange across the bay. Isyllt stumbled through the root-choked shallows, stubbing toes and scraping ankles as she hunted for her shirt and shoes.
“Here.”
Light flared and Isyllt threw up a hand. Through her fingers, she saw Zhirin holding the lantern. The girl hooded it again quickly.
“Someone’s coming.” She nodded toward the innermost end of the inlet, where light flickered amid the trees.
Both diamonds shivered, and Isyllt clenched her hand around her ring. A mage was coming, and she could guess which one.
“Is she all right?” Zhirin asked as Vienh emerged, Murai in her arms.
“She will be, I think, but she needs to be warm and dry.”
“Let’s go,” Isyllt said, tugging on her shoes. Lights shone nearer now, and footsteps rustled the weeds.
They hurried into the trees, but they’d gone only a few yards when Isyllt stopped with a gasp. Pressure like an iron band circled her chest, tightening as she tried to move. It eased as she stumbled back a pace.
“What’s wrong?” Adam asked.
“A spell.” She swallowed when she wanted to spit. Something this strong needed a physical component, but doubtless she’d left enough stray hairs on pillows at the Khas. “I can fight it, but I’ll slow you down. Easier to go back and face the caster. Go on.”
Adam’s eyebrows rose. “Lousy time to get yourself killed.”
Isyllt ignored him and turned around, drawing in a grateful breath as the tightness in her chest eased. Vasilios’s diamond thrummed against her chest, then lay still as she banished the finding with a thought. Cold rushed through her as she drew power from her ring, leeching strength from the trapped dead. The night became sharp-edged and clear, all her aches and blisters fading away.
Asheris waited at the far end of the inlet, golden witchlights hovering around him like a second entourage. The first wore Khas uniforms and aimed their weapons at her.
“Is that your doing?” he asked, gesturing toward the burning boat. “You’ve saved us some work, then. Though I’d have liked more survivors to question.” His spell closed around her and she couldn’t move as he crossed the muddy ground and caught her arm. His hand burned her bare skin and his diamond glowed against the dark like a captive star. Maybe it was. “Where’s Murai?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’re not a very good liar.”
“Not like you,” she said, lips curling.
He blinked. “What do you mean?”
She wanted to slap the look of honest confusion off his face. Instead she focused her power, preparing to strike at him. But if she broke free, could she dodge the soldiers’ bullets? “When you said you didn’t believe in binding spirits. I actually thought it was true.”
His grip tightened and she couldn’t stop a squeak of pain. “What makes you think,” he whispered, “that I was the one who did the binding?”
Light gleamed in his eyes like flame behind crystal, and a shadow flared around him, black and burning. The strength of it nearly staggered her.
“What are you?”
The light dimmed until only the man remained, rain-drenched and regretful. “Not free. I’m sorry-this is not my choice.”
Isyllt rallied her wits and her magic, but before she could strike a voice carried through the damp air.
“Asheris!”
His grip didn’t loosen, but he turned toward Zhirin. The girl paused at the edge of the light, Murai cradled in her arms.
“Which do you want more-Isyllt, or your master’s daughter? She’s drugged and half-drowned. She needs help.”
His chest hitched sharply. His magelights flickered, and shadows twisted across his face. Isyllt gasped as he let go.
“You keep dangerous company, Miss Laii. Set the girl down and get out of here. Let them go,” he told the soldiers. The compulsion on Isyllt crumbled and she stumbled away, clutching her scalded arm to her chest.
“How-”
“I’ve run out of leash,” he said softly. “If I find you again, I must kill you or return you to the Khas. Try not to be found.”
The look on his face brought a sharp lump of pity to her throat. She swallowed it down and fled into the swamp.
Chapter 17
They stumbled into the Storm God’s Bride a few hours before dawn, slipping in the back to avoid the lingering patrons. Isyllt expected Vienh to send them away, but instead she gave them a room upstairs and left. Isyllt was grateful for both reprieves.
She nearly collapsed on the bed, but rallied enough energy to ward the room and strip off her damp and filthy clothes first. Her right arm itched and throbbed from wrist to elbow, and her left hand was stiff and near-useless. The red print of Asheris’s hand circled her forearm, blisters bubbling where the tips of his fingers had dug in.
“Cute trick,” Adam said, inspecting her arm.
“I’m lucky he decided to talk first and incinerate me after.” She moved her hand, wincing as the burn stretched and stung. Mud crusted in the creases of her skin and flecks of leaf and dirt clung to her. She could feel the fever rising again as her magic and body strove to fight off whatever filth was in the bay.
Adam slipped out, returned a moment later with water, clean towe
ls, and a bowl of crushed aloe. Isyllt fumbled with a damp cloth for a bit before he took it from her and cleaned the burn.
“We need to find that ship and get out of here.”
Isyllt nodded, staring at the scuffed planks beyond her toes. She needed to leave. Especially if the thought filled her with such ambivalence. Her work was dangerous enough without worrying about the men trying to kill her. If she lost her focus, she’d end up like Vasilios.
“You won’t prove anything by killing yourself,” Adam said softly, smearing cool sap over her arm.
She frowned, then chuckled wryly. She might be a fool where Asheris was concerned, but at least it distracted her from being a fool over Kiril.
“We wait for the ship,” she said. “It’s the best we can do-wait and pray that Siddir can accomplish what he claims.”
“Pity we keep killing the people we were supposed to help.” Adam wrapped the burn loosely and knotted the bandage.
“They tried to kill us first.” She leaned against the wall; the room was swimming, and she couldn’t bring it into focus. Maybe she could blame the fever on the question that rose to her tongue. “Are you just going to leave her?”
Adam shrugged, lips tightening. “She made her choices. What’s the use in arguing?”
“No use,” she whispered. Her eyes sagged shut. “No use at all.”
He caught her as she slumped, eased her onto the mattress. His hand tightened on hers, a fleeting sympathy, and then sleep pulled her away.
Zhirin came home aching and tired, weary to the bone in the absence of the night’s fear. As she eased the door shut and locked it, she noticed a light burning in the kitchen. Mau was up very early, she thought for an instant, but no.
Her mother was waiting for her.
“It’s true, isn’t it?” Fei Minh said. She sat at the table, a cup of tea at her elbow. Dark circles ringed her eyes and shadows lined the weary creases on her face. “You’re running with the Tigers.”
Not tonight, she almost said. But there was no point in childish equivocations. “Yes.”
Her mother shook her head, unbound hair sliding over her shoulders. More silver threaded the ink-black than Zhirin remembered. “I prayed that Faraj was wrong, that you wouldn’t be so foolish.” Her eyes narrowed. “You’re going to get yourself killed!”
“If I’m killed, it will be to protect your schemes. I’m lucky I’m not in the bottom of a canal already.”
Fei Minh’s lips pursed. “Zhirin, please. I understand that you want to help, but this isn’t the way. Look at how many are dead already-look at what happened at the execution.”
“That wasn’t the Tigers. And do you really think paying off the Emperor is any better?”
“It doesn’t end in bloodshed.”
“Really? Do diamonds grow on trees, then, and fall like mangoes? Do those prisoners who disappear spend their days picking gems in the shade and drinking hibiscus tea?”
Color rose in Fei Minh’s cheeks. “I don’t know which is worse-your misplaced idealism or your insolent tongue. I’ve worked for our family’s future longer than you’ve been alive. Just because you’re infatuated with some forest-clan mongrel with more mouth than sense, don’t presume to tell me what’s best for my clan or my country. I should have shipped you to the university years ago, if this is all your Kurun Tam education has been good for.”
If she’d been any closer, Zhirin might have slapped her. The impulse made her hands tingle and stung her cheeks with anger and shame. Her mother hadn’t struck her since she was five, and she’d never contemplated striking back.
“Mira-” She forced her hands open, stepped farther into the room. “Please, I don’t want to fight with you. Everything’s gone so wrong, so ugly.”
Her mother’s face softened. “Oh, darling. I know.” She rose and took Zhirin in her arms, pausing as she touched her damp clothes. “What have you been doing?”
She considered a lie for an instant, but what was the point anymore? “Rescuing the Viceroy’s daughter.”
The look on Fei Minh’s face was almost worth everything that had happened tonight. “You aren’t serious-Ancestors, you are. You found Murai?”
“Yes. She’s safe, I think. I sent her home with Asheris.”
“My daughter…” She pulled Zhirin close, heedless of damp and filth. “I’m very proud of you, then, even if you’ve been terribly foolish.” She drew back. “I doubt there’s much Faraj wouldn’t forgive you now. Just stay at home, out of trouble, and everything will be fine.”
They were the same, Zhirin realized, her mother’s schemes and her own. Both born of a blind and desperate hope that if they only did enough, did the right thing, everything would work out. She blinked back tears and swallowed the words that she needed to say.
“Yes, Mira,” she lied. It grew easier and easier. “I’m home now, and everything will be all right.”
Fei Minh smiled and caught a yawn with one delicate hand. “It’s been a long time since I stayed up till dawn. Shall we make some tea and see if we can manage?”
Their fragile conviviality lasted through tea and breakfast. Mau arrived just in time to save the day’s bread from Zhirin’s inexpert baking; if she was disconcerted to find her cousins giggling and silly from lack of sleep, she hid it well.
The respite ended with a messenger’s knock less than an hour before the dawn bells. Fei Minh answered the door, but Zhirin heard enough of the murmured conversation to send her heart to the bottom of her stomach. The Yhan Ti was leaving dock.
A moment later her mirror-carefully replaced after she’d bathed and changed-shivered in her pocket. She ducked into the hall to respond, but by the time she pulled it out the bronze was empty and silent. She whispered Isyllt’s name, but there was no answer. A second time, and a third, and still nothing. Something was wrong.
“What is it?” Fei Minh asked when she returned to the kitchen.
She swallowed. No use in pretending any longer. “I have to go.”
She ignored her mother’s angry questions and demands as she tugged on her shoes. As she opened the door she paused and risked a backward glance. “I’m sorry. I’ll be back when I can.” If I can.
Isyllt woke to a sharp knock on the door and the jangle of her wards. The bed creaked as Adam leapt up; her skin prickled with the sudden absence of his warmth. She scrubbed gritty eyes, but it only made them ache more. It felt as if she’d only slept a few hours, and from the darkness beyond the shutters that was probably true. Sweat dampened her hair, pasted her undershirt to her skin, and her burned arm itched fiercely.
Adam eased the door open and Vienh slipped in, rain dripping from her oilcloak.
“The Yhan Ti is leaving port,” she said, “bound for Assar. Izzy’s ready to slip dock, and your friend Bashari is waiting on the Dog. Come on.”
Isyllt stumbled up, groping for her still-damp clothes while Adam tugged on his boots. It took her three tries to pick up her shirt and her hands shook as she fastened the buttons. If the saints were merciful, she could sleep on the ship.
The hall was dark, only one lamp by the staircase left burning. Isyllt dropped to the back of the line, pulling out her mirror. Zhirin was probably asleep. She whispered the girl’s name as they started down the stairs. An instant later, she heard a loud crack in the common room, followed by a heavy metallic clang. Adam paused and Isyllt nearly ran into him.
“What was that?”
A thunderclap shook the room, shivering the stairs and throwing them against the wall. She lost the spell and her grip on the mirror. Isyllt grabbed for the rail, gasped as she hit it with her bad hand, and fell. The rush of pain drove away the last fatigue-fog. Smoke billowed, reeking of gunpowder.
“Bombs!” Vienh shouted; her voice was distant and hollow through the ringing in Isyllt’s ears. “Out the back.”
Doors opened along the hall as they scrambled back, wary faces peering out. Another explosion echoed and someone screamed. Down the narrow stairs to the door b
ehind the storerooms, but when Adam unbarred the door and flung it open a bullet shattered the wood inches from his shoulder.
Through the gloom of the rain-soaked alley, Isyllt saw a red handprint on the opposite wall. Vienh swore as they retreated from the door.
“Dai Tranh! It’s an ambush.”
Smoke eddied from the front of the bar, and orange light flickered at the end of the hall. Through the fire, or into the bullets.
“They’ll be waiting in front too,” Adam said, checking his pistol.
A shot cracked before she could answer. Isyllt ducked-in truth more a startled stumble-and saw a masked man crouching on the other side of the door. He fired again and Vienh slammed into her, knocking her down. Isyllt landed on hip and elbow, eyes blurring from the pain. Adam fired back and the man vanished.
They ducked into a storeroom and Isyllt called witchlight. Vienh gasped as she slouched against the wall. Red spooled down her right arm, feathering across her linen sleeve.
“Not bad,” she hissed as Isyllt reached for her. “Just grazed.”
Isyllt touched her arm anyway to be sure and promptly jerked her hand away with a curse.
“Lead bullets. Bastards.” Isyllt shook her head. “They’re not Dai Tranh.”
Adam pulled out his mirror, used it to glance around the doorframe before he leaned out to shoot. “How do you know?”
“The Dai Tranh used copper bullets at the execution, even though they were shooting at mages. And they used rubies to blow up the other buildings, not powder grenades.”
“Can we solve this somewhere else?” Vienh snapped as she pressed a fold of sleeve against her wound.
Another blast shook the front of the bar; a lamp fell from its hook and shattered, splattering the floor with oil. The building would collapse on their heads soon. More shots sounded in the hall and someone screamed. Adam took another look through the mirror.
“They’re shooting anyone who comes down.”
Isyllt crept closer to the door. The air tasted of blood and smoke and approaching death. She risked a glance outside, saw a man’s sandaled foot and a thread of blood leaking across the floor. A bullet splintered the doorframe above her head and she jerked back inside. A moment later her ring chilled as the wounded man died.
The Drowning City tnc-1 Page 22
