The Bone Shard Daughter (The Drowning Empire, #1)(31)

Phalue kissed her, and Ranami forgot where she was in the softness of her lover’s lips.

“It doesn’t matter,” Phalue said when they broke apart. “We can go now. The guards are unconscious.”

Ranami peered around her. “You didn’t hurt them, did you?”

Phalue gave her an odd look. “Oh, they’ll hurt when they wake up, but what does it matter? I’ve never killed anyone before; I wasn’t about to start now.” She let out a shaky laugh. “Can you imagine what my father would say? Killing is not the purview of governors, or something like.” Her gaze went beyond Ranami’s brow and she stiffened.

Ranami whirled to see Gio.

Right. The entire reason she was here in the first place. “Phalue,” she said, putting a hand to her sword arm before she could draw it again. She knew her too well. “I want you to meet Gio. He has some things he wants to say to you.”

Phalue’s gaze slid back to hers. “Was he held here with you?”

And here was the part she’d been dreading, the reason she’d halfway hoped that Phalue would not come. “Not exactly,” Ranami said. “I came of my own free will.”

“You . . . what?” Phalue seemed more surprised than angry. And then she peered more closely at Gio, running her gaze over his close-cropped hair, the scarred eye, the sword at his hip. She looked to Ranami in disbelief, and then back at Gio again. “Ranami, that’s the leader of the Shardless. My father wants to kill him. The Emperor wants to kill him. He and his people have been causing innumerable problems for the Empire. Did you know they toppled the governor on Khalute? It’s a small isle, but sooner or later the Emperor will send his soldiers and his constructs.”

“I know,” Ranami said, lifting her hands, trying to forestall Phalue’s anger. “Some of the rebels are here for a very specific reason – but I found out they were here and I got in touch with them.” It had taken more than just a little work to do so. They weren’t exactly known for being friendly and open with outsiders. But she’d read Caleen’s Treatises on Fiscal Equality, and quoting it had apparently impressed the Shardless enough to get her a contact. Arranging this false kidnapping had taken even more convincing. At first they’d hoped she would turn against Phalue, work with them while undermining the governor’s rule. But she’d refused. There had to be another way, one that involved installing Phalue as governor.

Phalue’s eyes narrowed. “There’s a price on his head. I should report this.”

Ranami saw, out of the corner of her eye, Gio straightening, his arm moving to his sword.

“Phalue,” Ranami said, her voice gentle, “who will you report to?”

Phalue’s expression flitted from determination, to confusion, to dismay. Ranami knew her thoughts – they’d shared their worlds with one another, their hopes and disappointments. The only person Phalue could report this to was her father, and he’d use the reward money to throw another lavish party or to build another addition that his palace didn’t need. Her lips pressed together. “I could find a spy construct to report to. The money doesn’t matter as much as the Empire’s safety.”

“Just listen to what he has to say. Please.” Ranami took Phalue’s hands in her own, running her fingers over the calluses.

“We could both be hanged just for talking to him,” Phalue said, her gaze still on Gio. “Whatever he has to say, it’s not worth your life.”

Ranami squeezed her palms. “Remember what you said to me when we fought? You said that you couldn’t change the way you’d been raised, that you felt like I was looking down on you for not being born on the street. I know you’ve worked hard. I’m not asking you to change your past. I’m asking you to consider your future, and the choices you have ahead of you.”

“Choices not everyone else has,” Gio said. He’d relaxed again, his voice taking on a somber, oratory tone. “I won’t mince words with you – we need your help. The caro nuts the farmers grow here are all sent to the heart of the Empire for sale, where they fetch the best prices. The farmers themselves cannot afford to purchase any. The oil in these nuts is an effective cure for the bog cough, and we are entering another wet season. The children of these farmers have already begun to die.”

At least Phalue hadn’t tried to kill him, or stomped away. But she lifted her shoulders and sighed. “I have an allowance. I can purchase some caro nuts to give to the farmers.”

It was a kind gesture. And Phalue was full of kind gestures. It was part of what Ranami loved about her. But that would only help a few farmers; it wouldn’t solve the problem. Phalue had never felt that itch in the back of her throat, the aches in her body from long work that couldn’t better her status, the helplessness of watching loved ones suffer.

Gio looked her in the eye. “That won’t be enough. I want you to help us steal some of the caro nut shipment and let the farmers have them.”

Phalue scoffed. “You’re mad.”

Gio shrugged. “I’ve never claimed otherwise. I’m not a baker or a net-mender. No empire lasts for ever, and I think this one has been overripe for a long, long time.” He began to tick off fingers. “The Emperor is old, and few people have seen this daughter of his – not since she was a baby. He’s shut himself away, and rumor has it he’s pursuing experiments with the bone shards he’s collected. He says we need to keep contributing bone shards to power the constructs, because the Alanga might someday return. It’s been hundreds of years. If it weren’t for the ruins and the odd artifact, I’d hesitate to believe they ever existed. They are not coming back. The Emperor’s sworn duty – to protect us from their magic with his own – is looking more and more like we’ve set an old dog to guard a pair of unworn slippers.