Amanda Downum - The Drowning City

The floor swayed gently beneath them as the wind gusted. Vienh went first, Adam watching their backs. Vasilios’s diamond all but hummed as they drew nearer to its sister-stone. This close, Isyllt could feel the ghosts in her ring moving restlessly in their prison. And another ghost, free of the stone. Deilin.

“Be careful,” she murmured to Vienh. “Your grandmother is here.”

The smuggler cursed under her breath.

Light spilled from under a cabin door, along with a woman’s voice. Vienh’s shoulders stiffened.

“It’s Kaeru.”

The woman spoke in Sivahran, too low for Isyllt to follow. It sounded like a one-sided argument; then she heard Deilin’s death-hollowed voice answer.

“What are they saying?” she asked.

“Kaeru’s talking about a girl, and about how they need someone. Whoever she’s talking to. I can’t hear the response.”

Beyond the door, Isyllt felt the old woman’s heart, still strong, and Deilin’s icy presence. And someone else, alive but not strong.

The voices rose. “It’s not right,” Deilin said.

“You must. We need you.”

“She’s a child-” She broke off, and Isyllt sensed the dead woman’s attention turning toward them.

Isyllt’s jaw tightened. “Murai’s in there. Let’s go.”

Vienh nodded, passing the lantern to Isyllt as she drew back. The door cracked under the force of her kick, flying inward and rebounding against the wall. The smuggler caught it as she stepped inside.

The scene was all too familiar. Murai lay still, wan and feverish, and Deilin stood at the foot of the bed. Kaeru sprang back as the door opened, the black diamond gleaming on her gnarled hand.

“It was you all along, wasn’t it?” Vienh said. Lamplight rippled along the length of her blade. “You let her through the wards. You let her take my daughter.”

“Better than wasting Xian blood in another generation of collaborators and mongrels.”

“We took you in!” Vienh gasped, sagging against the door, one hand rising to her throat. The ring glowed in Kaeru’s hand.

“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?”