The Bone Shard Daughter (The Drowning Empire, #1)(56)

The next two came at me quickly, and I hopped back, trying to give myself more space. The Ioph Carn weren’t mere brawlers, and Philine was a good teacher. The two hung back, waiting for the other two, and together, the four of them spread out, trying to surround me.

Me? I avoided a fight whenever I could. I had no training. Only my wits and what gifts Mephi had given me. Wits had to count for something, didn’t they? I grabbed chairs from my left and right and flung them at the men and women approaching, hard as I could.

The chairs splintered on two of the Ioph Carn, sending shards of wood into the air. They both collapsed, one with a splinter of wood through his shoulder. Had I really thrown that hard?

The other two, both men, rushed me, not even checking on their fallen companions. I’d spent too long awed by my own strength. I wasn’t ready.

A flash of pain burst across my ribs, and then a warm, burning sensation. I kicked back again and felt something crack beneath my foot. I didn’t have time to check the wound or how bad it was. I caught the other man’s wrist before he could bring his blade down on my arm. Quick as I could, I squeezed until his grip opened, and then cast the offending blade away. I didn’t want to hurt or kill anyone. The man merely frowned when I let him go and pulled a dagger from his boot.

“There’s one of you and one of me,” I said. “Do you really want to do this?”

He had the scowling countenance of a barracuda, with a raised scar across his cheek. He said nothing, only flitted his gaze up and down my body as if searching for some weakness. Behind him, Philine groaned. She began to push herself to her feet.

The thrum inside me grew into a roar. “Just . . . stop!” I picked up the table to my right and broke off a leg, wielding it like a club.

The scarred man advanced.

I caught his slash on the table leg and then let it go. His dagger, embedded in the wood, carried his arm down, unbalancing him. I seized him by the back of his leather jerkin and helped him along to the floor. His face crashed into the wooden floorboards and he lay there, still.

When I looked up again, Philine was standing just beyond, two daggers in her hands. She regarded me with a mixture of fear and annoyance. “What are you?”

It was the very same question I’d asked of Mephi. A man in search of his wife. A smuggler. A thief of children. They swirled together in my mind. “I don’t know.”

Philine considered, her head tilted to the side. And then she nodded to herself almost imperceptibly. “Come back with me to Kaphra. We can find a way to use your talents. He’ll forgive your debt.”

I almost laughed in disbelief. “Do you think that’s what I want?”

She shrugged. “Don’t all men seek power?”

I could feel that thrumming inside me, the hum in the air before a lightning bolt struck. “I just want to be left alone!” I stamped my foot again, and the entire building shook. It creaked and groaned like an old man with an ailment.

Philine remembered Deerhead. The color drained from her face, her gaze going to the ceiling beams. Her men and women were slowly drawing themselves up, clutching their injuries, but even they froze when the drinking hall trembled.

“Get out,” I said.

They fled, half-running, half-limping. Even Philine.

I had no illusions. This was the Ioph Carn and no one crossed the Ioph Carn. They’d be back after me again with more of their kind. Exhausted, I sank into a chair and poured myself a mug of wine from the pitcher at the table, heedless of who had drunk from it just moments before. The wine slid down my throat and cooled the fire in my belly.

Mephi, from the other side of the drinking hall, chirruped. He crept out from beneath the table. I held out my hand to him and he scampered over, dodging the leftover remains of the two chairs. I helped him into my lap, and he pressed his furry head to my chest. “Very good,” he said as I scratched his ears. “I still can’t decide if you’re more trouble than you’re worth.”

I was halfway through my mug of wine when the drinking hall owner pushed open the door. She eyed the damage.

“I’ll pay for it,” I said. It would pinch my purse, but I wasn’t a cyclone or a monsoon, heedless of the wreckage I left in my wake.

“The others,” she said, looking behind her, “can they come back in too?”

I waved a hand. “They’re your patrons, not mine. It’s not my business to say who can frequent your establishment.”

They trickled in behind her, hesitant as feral cats still hungering for a meal. I watched them in dismay as they took in the destruction, and their eyes widened in awe. I groaned inwardly. First the song, and now this. If I’d wanted to just be left alone, I wasn’t doing such a great job of lying low.

And then they began to approach me. I leaned on my elbows and debated draining the entire mug. I knew what they were going to say.

“Jovis.” A young woman sat in the chair opposite me, her hands wringing together. Still, she held my gaze despite her fear. “What could I give you to save my son?”





21





Lin


Imperial Island

The steady beat of hammer against anvil soothed me as I worked. The spy construct was small and required more concentration than I thought possible. I hadn’t tried this part before tonight – reaching into a construct’s body to manipulate any shards within. I’d returned the pieces of the small construct I’d built to the storeroom; this spy construct was a more pressing issue. And now that I needed to reach inside a construct, I felt the frustration building. I concentrated, held my breath and tried again.