The Bone Shard Daughter (The Drowning Empire, #1)(20)

“You don’t have witstone,” Philine said.

“I have melons,” I choked out when I could finally get a breath. “You can sell them for a tidy profit.”

“Not interested,” she said, her voice flat.

“I’ve been sending money to Kaphra, plus smuggler’s fees. I send a cut of all my profits. I don’t want trouble.”

She loomed over me, blocking the rising sun. A thin, black tendril of hair had come loose from her plait, swaying against her cheek with the ocean breeze. The other two Ioph Carn pulled up beside her, breathing heavily. Philine lifted her baton free of her belt. “And that’s why we’re not going to kill you.”

A street never clears so quickly as when the Ioph Carn are about to visit a beating on someone.

Even when the first few blows fell, I was thinking about how I could get away, how I could best them. Pain exploded across my shoulders and back, blotting my vision with red. I grabbed for something, anything, that could get me out of this situation. Only the dirt of the street and a few small, loose stones. I threw them at her anyways, and Philine dashed them away with one gloved hand. “I don’t enjoy this,” she said. “If you stayed still, it would go faster.”

I believed her when she said she didn’t enjoy it. Her fellows didn’t seem to hold the same philosophy as she did. A kick to my ribs sent me sprawling in the dirt, and I caught the glimpse of a grin, white teeth flashing like the underside of a bird’s wing.

Pain layered on top of pain – sharp over dull, bright over bruised. I heard the strikes of Philine’s baton more than I felt them – beating against my ribs like a drumstick, my body an instrument. A person could dance to the beat had they the inclination. The world around me faded, grew muffled, as though I were perceiving everything through a woolen blanket.

“Stop,” Philine said. Her lackeys ceased and took a step back in unison, obedient as any construct. I licked my lips and tasted copper.

“I don’t care if you ever had the witstone you promised me. I don’t care if you ever will,” she said. “I’m here to take you to Kaphra.”

She didn’t wait for me to give any sign that I’d heard her; but then again, I couldn’t have if I’d tried. Even my tongue hurt. I might have bitten it during the beating. I seemed to discover some new injury with every movement.

I had to get to the docks, had to follow that boat, had to find Emahla. I wasn’t caught yet. I wasn’t caught until they brought me before Kaphra, both hands and feet bound. Philine reached down to grab me, but I shrugged off her hands. “I’ll come with you,” I said, staggering to my feet. And then I reached into the pouch at my side, pulled out a few strips of jerky and stuffed them into my mouth. I swallowed and breathed out, straightening my spine and pulling my shoulders back. “Stay back,” I said, holding a hand out. “I’ve no wish to hurt you. Kaphra wouldn’t like it.”

The three Ioph Carn glanced at one another, confused. “What did he eat?” one of the thugs said to the other. He only shrugged in response.

Philine took a step forward.

I am strong. My ribs aren’t digging sharp edges into my lungs. Merciful skies, that hurts. No. No pain. I had to believe it or they would not. I let my posture speak for me. Go on. Try me. “Or didn’t Kaphra tell you about the time he had me hit a monastery?”

Philine’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t have cloud juniper bark,” she said.

That was the key – always make them say it.

She realized her mistake as soon as the words came out of her mouth. The two Ioph Carn thugs with her shrank back. No one had seen one of the monks fight in years. And the stories still circulated, growing grander with each telling.

“He’s a thrice-cursed liar. How many times do you think he’s pulled this trick before? He doesn’t have any,” Philine said, though even the step she took forward was hesitant.

I’d pulled this trick once before, but she didn’t have to know that.

“How do you know he doesn’t?” one of her lackeys said.

She turned to snap at them, taking her gaze from me. “Don’t be idiots. The monks steep the bark in tea, they don’t take chunks of it and eat it. They’d be stuffing their throats full of splinters!”

It was distraction enough. I backed up one more step and pulled down one of the street stalls, blocking the street between us.

Finding Emahla would make this life, these debts, this beating all worth it. I swept up the boxes of melons and made for the docks, shouts following me down the street. I hunched and breathed through the pain, putting one foot in front of me, then another. My knees creaked as I ran, but I was running. When I wiped my face with my sleeve, it came away red. My pulse seemed to vibrate, hot from every bruise. I’d bought myself time, but I wasn’t sure if it was enough.

I couldn’t hear footsteps from behind me, but I heard shouts as the Ioph Carn pushed people from their path – a cloud I couldn’t quite shake. I knelt and unwound the rope mooring my boat as quickly as I could.

A chittering sound greeted me as I leapt aboard. The stern knocked up against the dock as I searched the deck for the noise. Mephi sat near the prow, a fish proffered in his paws. He chittered again and held up the fish, as if asking me to take it. I didn’t have time for this.