Amanda Downum - The Drowning City

Zhirin swallowed, trying not to fidget on the hard bench. She’d always thought that Kwan’s dislike for her was half born of jealousy; her cheeks stung as she realized her own childishness.

“The point,” Kwan said, biting off the words, “is that I no longer stand with the Dai Tranh. The Tigers may be soft, but the Dai Tranh goes too far, and means to go further still.”

She turned to face the room, one hand reaching for her absent sword hilt; she tucked her fingers into her belt instead. “The Dai Tranh found a diamond mine in the forest on the far side of the mountain. The Khas has been harvesting soul-stones for years, using Sivahri prisoners.”

Voices rose again, louder and angrier. Jabbor couldn’t quiet them, but finally Kwan shouted them down.

“That’s right. And that’s the fury you should feel-but Selei Xian has let her rage madden her. She means to sabotage the mountain itself and let its fire destroy the mine and the Kurun Tam. The others won’t gainsay her.”

“What?” Zhirin’s voice carried in the stunned silence, and her cheeks burned. Kwan turned to face her and she rallied her wits, pushing herself to her feet. “Never mind the madness of it-they’d burn their own lands as well-but the mountain is warded.”

Kwan smiled. “Oh, yes. But we-they-have someone inside the Kurun Tam. Did you think you were the only one, little mage? They know about the wards and how to destroy them. The plan is insanity, but I believe they could do it. That’s why I’m here. Lhun lands will burn, and that I cannot allow.”

Zhirin sat, catching Jabbor’s arm to steady herself. The one thing taught above all other lessons at the Kurun Tam was respect for the mountain. Vasilios had shown her text after text from the Assari histories, painstaking illuminations of the volcanoes found in the southern empire and the devastation they caused when they erupted.

The council became an ocean of angry voices, and she used the confusion to explain the conversation to Isyllt. By the time she’d finished, Zhirin couldn’t tell who was yelling what.

“Enough!” Jabbor finally shouted, his voice carrying from floor to rafters. “Whatever the arguments, do we at least agree that burning Sivahra is…ill-considered?” The Tigers nodded, a few snorting at his dry tone. “Kwan, how much time do we have?”

“They’ll move tonight. I imagine they’ll stage a distraction for the Khas first. And there’s more. You’ve heard the rumors of the White Hand? Well, they’re true. The Dai Tranh witches have recruited the unsung dead to fight for them.”

Another silence filled the room and Jabbor spoke before it could erupt. “Then it’s lucky we have a necromancer with us, isn’t it?”

After breakfast, Selei divided the warriors into groups. The Ki Dai, living and dead, would go to the mountain-it would take all their witchcraft to break the wards. The rest would provide distractions to keep the Khas and the Kurun Tam busy.

Riuh frowned as they were separated, but Xinai was glad of the reprieve. Between her cramps and the task ahead of her, the last thing she needed was him lingering at her side, or her mother’s smug and knowing glances.

As the witchless groups began to slip away, a warrior pulled Selei aside for a whispered conversation. A Lhun, Xinai guessed from his nose and broad cheeks. Not many other clans had joined the Dai Tranh-Lhuns and Khans, a scattering of clanless. And her.

As she stared at the broken walls and empty houses of Cay Lin, it was hard to share Selei’s optimism. The thought of babies was foreign, and for all of Riuh’s affection, she had no desire to marry. Not even Adam had made her think of family, and there had been a time when she’d imagined spending the rest of her life with him. Not that a mercenary’s life was often long.

Not that a revolutionary’s was any longer.

Worry about it later , she told herself. If they survived the night.

Selei finished talking to the man and shooed the last stragglers out of camp. When they were gone, she turned to the Ki Dai.

“We’ve been betrayed.” She raised a hand to forestall questions. “Not to the Khas, I think, but the Tigers will know what’s coming.”

Mutters rippled and died and witches exchanged glances. “Do we change the plan?” asked Phailin.

“No. If the Kurun Tam gets wind of it, we won’t get another chance so easily.”

“Do you think they’ll try to stop us?” someone else asked, a boy barely old enough to wear a kris. “The Tigers, I mean.”

“If they do, be merciless. They’ve had opportunity enough to join us, to hear the truth. We can’t let their weakness stop us now.”

The boy’s throat bobbed as he nodded.

Zhirin marked the wards on the Tigers’ maps, but after that she was useless as they prepared for battle. She wasn’t as helpless in a fight as she’d once thought, but she had no gift for strategy. Isyllt stayed with the council, leaving Zhirin to retreat to their room, where she rubbed her mother’s ring till her fingers ached and watched the light change as it slipped down the wall.

Jabbor came later in the afternoon, and now his face held all the pity and concern she’d feared. He eased the door shut and sat beside her, not quite touching. His warmth and familiar wood-sweet scent would have been comforting, had he not obviously had something to say, something that left him awkward and nervous.

“What is it?” she asked, after a few moments of listening to him draw breath but not speak.

“I-” He swallowed. She’d never seen him so nervous. “I know how hard a time this is for you. I’m sorry.”

She swallowed an unkind reply-his parents had died when he was young. Maybe he did know.

“Thank you,” she said instead. “And thank you for taking us in.”

He shrugged it aside and took her hand, his broad palm engulfing hers. “Zhir, I know this isn’t the best time, but…”

“You want help from Cay Laii? I’ll do whatever I can, but I need to talk to Mau-”

“No, no.” He cut her off as her chest began to tighten at the thought. “I mean, yes, we’d welcome any help Laii can offer, but that’s not what I want to ask.” His hand tightened on hers, and the heron ring dug into both their flesh. “Zhir, would you marry me?”

She opened her mouth, closed it again, and turned to stare at him. A lattice of light fell over his face, caught splinters of gold in his eyes. “Are you-You’re serious.”

“Yes. When this is over. If I don’t get killed by the Dai Tranh or the Khas.” His lips twisted. “Not the best marriage offer, I know, but will you consider it?”

Would she? Dizzying, to realize that the choice was hers alone. She’d always assumed her mother would make a match for her when she finished her apprenticeship, had considered it as inevitable as the tide. But now she had no mother, no master. And now that the Khas knew her loyalties, she had no one to hide from anymore.

Jabbor watched her, brow creasing as her silence stretched. A month ago his proposal would have left her giddy.

“I will,” she said at last. “I mean, yes, I’ll marry you. But I need time, Jabbor. First Vasilios, and now my mother, and I don’t know what Clan Laii will say-”

“Of course, of course. I don’t want to rush you. I just wanted you to know how I feel, before-”

She nodded and leaned in to kiss him. He wrapped his arms around her and she sank into his warmth. But the cold, hollow feeling in her chest wouldn’t go away.

The Ki Dai left Cay Lin before dusk, changing their route in case the Tigers were waiting. The gibbous moon had already risen, a milky ghost through the clouds. Xinai and Phailin had spent the day making charms, weaving owl and night-heron feathers with night-vision spells. They’d turned to nightjars when they ran out of larger birds, but every witch and warrior with them could see in the dark now. Safer than smuggler’s lanterns, though they carried those as well.