The Bone Shard Daughter (The Drowning Empire, #1)(112)

She was dead.

All these years spent searching and wanting. It didn’t matter if I found her; I had no power to bring the dead back to life. All my life stretched ahead of me – without her. I forced myself to face it, to push the lie aside. “I don’t know who I am,” I said, my fingers digging into Mephi’s undercoat. “I don’t know what to do.”

“When I was in the water,” Mephi said, “I didn’t know where to go. I had to find someone to help me. I swam to you because I knew you would help me. I know who you are.” He nuzzled my shoulder. “You are the person who helps.”

Was I? I’d been finding reasons to rescue these children without ever having to commit myself to the cause. Someone had saved me, but no one had saved Onyu. No one had saved Emahla. I felt their absences every day I kept living. Sometimes one was enough.

Sometimes it wasn’t.

I could help all the children who were so much like my dead brother. I could help the shard-sick and the people who loved them. I could help the people stolen away by the Empire’s constructs. I had the power to save more than just one here, one there. If I simply tried, I could do more than chase whispers of Emahla; I could go to the heart of the Empire and take a stand against it. I could believe in this, and it wouldn’t be a lie. I wiped the tears from my cheeks, though the ache in my chest remained. Some wounds would never heal. “It sounds like a lonely life, Mephi.” No one was telling the truth to anyone else. Even the Shardless Few was fractured.

“No.” Mephi rested his chin on my shoulder. “Not lonely. I am here with you.”

I reached up to rub his cheeks. The shore was still close; it wouldn’t take long to get back. Somewhere in the darkness lay the Shardless hideout, filled with people who yearned to break free. I couldn’t save all of them. I couldn’t. But I could save more than my fair share. I pushed myself to my feet. “Then it’s settled. Let’s go topple an Empire.”





42





Lin


Imperial Island

We went first to gather Uphilia from her lair. Bayan crawled up the roof tiles after me. “You did this once already?” he said.

“Yes.”

“You’re a little bit mad, you know that? I wonder –” He huffed out a breath and reached for the next handhold. “– if your mother was like this.”

I wished she’d been my mother, but she was not. She’d seemed like a normal enough young woman in her journal, but she’d aged before she’d married my father. Something must have changed between that time and when they’d wed. Bayan didn’t say anything after that, only put his head down and concentrated on the climb.

The broken ironwork piece was still there on the eaves. When I peeked over the edge of the roof, I could see Uphilia curled in her alcove, her tail over her nose and her wings tucked to her sides.

“Uphilia,” I whispered to her, “you must come with me.” I wasn’t sure why I whispered, except that I was unsure of my own work. If I hadn’t altered her commands correctly, she’d awaken and send up an alarm. Or Father – the Emperor – might have already altered her commands back. Her ears twitched, but that was all. The wind had swept my voice away.

This wasn’t the time to let fear rule me. I tried again, louder, more sure. “Uphilia, awaken and come with me.”

She rose, stretched her wings and sprang from her alcove. With a quick turn of her wings, she was on the rooftop, amber eyes looking into mine. She did not send up an alarm.

Behind me, the spy construct squeaked in surprise.

“No,” I said, putting a hand behind me. “We’re on the same side now.”

“Even with Uphilia and Mauga, can we take on Tirang?” Bayan asked. “Tirang is strong and has war constructs at his disposal.”

“If you have a better idea, tell me when we’re back on solid ground.” We returned to Bayan’s balcony, Uphilia in tow. “We can remove shards from any constructs attacking us. Subvert some if we have the chance. I’ll tell you how I rewrote the commands for the spies. I suspect the war construct commands are written in a similar way. We can do this. The constructs are strong, but we have more knowledge. We can control them. All we have to do is get through them to the Emperor.”

“Yes, easy enough.” He was speaking this way because he was scared. I knew these feelings.

“I never said it would be easy.”

Bayan rubbed at his arms, as though trying to wipe away his fear. “I’m sorry. I know you’re right. And if I’m ever to have a life worth living, this is the way through to it. I thought things were hard enough when I had to compete with you for your father’s approval. This is . . . toppling an Emperor. It’s something your ancestors would have done. Or the Alanga.”

“Again, I am not one of the Sukais. I am a facsimile.”

“You’re as close to a Sukai as one can get nowadays.” Bayan shook his head. “Let’s get Mauga and do this before I change my mind.”

I took his hand in mine. Our fingers twined together as naturally as breathing. “Thank you,” I said.

He didn’t say anything stupid this time, only looked at our hands. With his expression solemn, the resemblance to the Emperor became more pronounced. The Emperor had built a younger copy of himself, cobbled together from who knew how many people. Yet Bayan was different. He gave my hand a squeeze. “I am sorry we couldn’t have been friends.”