The Bone Shard Daughter (The Drowning Empire, #1)(6)

She snorted. “Depends on how you define success. Your mother wouldn’t think so, I’d guess.”

“You’re probably right,” I said lightly. It would deeply pain her to know how far I’d fallen. Danila relaxed, her shoulder now touching mine, her expression softer. She wouldn’t give me away. Just wasn’t the sort. “I need to ask about your foster daughter. How she disappeared.”

“There isn’t much to tell,” she said. “She was here one day and then gone the next, nineteen silver coins left on her bedspread – as though a silver phoenix was all a year of her life was worth. It was two days ago. I keep thinking she’ll walk back in the door.”

She wouldn’t. I knew, because I’d thought the same for a year. I could still see the nineteen silver coins scattered across Emahla’s bed. Could still feel my heart pounding, my stomach twisting – caught in that moment of both knowing she was gone and not being able to believe it.

“Soshi was a bright young woman,” Danila said, a quaver in her voice. She struck the tears from her eyes before they could reach her cheeks. “Her mother died in a mining accident and she didn’t know her father. I never married, never had any children of my own. I took her in. I needed someone to help.”

“Was . . . ?” The word thudded from my mouth; I couldn’t form the question.

Danila picked up another wrap and studied my face. “I may not be old enough to be your auntie, but to me you are still a boy. If the Empire had anything to do with her disappearance, she’s already dead.”

I have never been in love. We never met as children, we never became friends. I never took the chance, never kissed her. I never came back from Imperial Island. I told myself the lie, over and over. Even so, my mind layered on top her teasing smile, how she rolled her eyes when I made up a particularly silly story, the way she leaned her head onto my shoulder and sighed after a long day. But I needed to believe the lie. Because every time I thought about living the rest of my life without her, panic fluttered up my chest and wrapped itself around my throat. I swallowed. “Did you look for her? Did you find any trace?”

“Of course I looked,” she said. “I asked around. One of the fishermen said they saw a boat leave early that morning. Not from the docks but from a nearby cove. It was small, dark and had blue sails. It went east. That’s all I know.”

It was the boat I’d seen the morning Emahla had disappeared, rounding the edge of the island, the mist so thick I wasn’t sure I’d seen it at all. In seven years, this was the best lead I had. If I was quick, I might be able to catch it.

One of the soldiers in the hall laughed, another groaned and cards hit the table. Chairs scraped against the floor as they rose. “It was a good game.” A beam of sunlight warmed the back of my neck as they opened the door. “Hey you. You coming with us? The captain will bite your head off if you’re late.”

No one answered, and I remembered the soldier’s jacket I wore. He was talking to me.

Danila seized my wrist. The one with the tattoo. Both her voice and her grip were intractable as tree roots. “I’ve done you a favor, Jovis. Now I need a favor of you.”

Oh no. “Favors? We didn’t speak of favors.”

She talked over me, and I heard footsteps approaching from behind. “I have a nephew. He lives on a small isle just east of here. If I have it right, you’ll be headed in that direction anyways. Take him before the ritual. Get him back to his parents. He’s their only child.”

“I’m not one of the Shardless Few. I don’t smuggle children,” I hissed. “It’s not ethical. Or profitable.” I tried her grip and found her strength greater than mine.

“Do it.”

By the sound of the footsteps behind me, there was only one soldier. I could handle him. I could lie my way out of this. But after all these years, I still remembered the trickle of blood from my scalp, running down my neck. The cold touch of the chisel against my skin. The wound felt like fire. The Emperor says that the Tithing Festival is a small price to pay for the safety of us all. It didn’t feel like so small a price when it was your head bowed and your knees digging into the ground.

I am hardened to the suffering of others. Another lie I told myself because I couldn’t save everyone; I hadn’t been able to even save my own brother. If I thought too much on all the suffering, all the people I couldn’t help, I felt like I was drowning in the Endless Sea itself. I couldn’t carry that weight.

Mostly this worked. But not today. Today I thought of my mother, her hands on each side of my face: “But what is the truth, Jovis?”

The truth was that someone had saved me. Sometimes one is enough. “I’ll take him,” I said.

I was a fool.

Danila let go of my wrist. “He owes me for a mug of wine. He’ll be along shortly,” she told the soldier.

The man’s footsteps retreated.

“My nephew’s name is Alon,” Danila told me. “He’s dressed in a red shirt with white flowers embroidered on the hem. His mother is a cobbler on Phalar. She’s the only one on the isle.”

I brushed the flour from my hands. “Red shirt. Flowers. Cobbler. Got it.”

“You should hurry.”

I’d have snapped at her if her grief wasn’t so obvious. She’d lost a daughter. I’d lost a wife. I could be kind. “If I find out what happened to your foster daughter, I’ll figure out a way to let you know.”