The Bone Shard Daughter (The Drowning Empire, #1)(62)

“Jovis,” called the soldier who had been consulting with the census taker. She looked battle-worn, her armor scored in places, her face weary. The square had nearly cleared, though a few children without their parents lingered at the edges, stupefied by opium. “By the order of Emperor Shiyen Sukai, I am authorized to bring you in for questioning.”

“And the executioner’s block, I’ve no doubt,” I said.

“So you won’t come quietly?” She took a step forward, and her soldiers stepped with her.

“If you know who I am, then you know I’ve fought off fifteen of the Ioph Carn and won. What makes you think you will have any better luck?” I threw up my chin, giving the lie some weight. Truth was, these were the worst odds I’d faced. I noticed a couple of the soldiers shoot one another sidelong glances.

She opened her mouth to speak, but I didn’t let her.

I stamped on the cobbles with my right foot, and the thrumming within me sank into the earth. The stones beneath me trembled, the buildings shaking. My little quake only had a radius of perhaps thirty feet, but the soldiers didn’t know it. Nor did the people of the town. Someone screamed, and the archers dropped their bows to brace themselves on the roof. Everything else faded from my awareness.

I went to work.

I took out their leader before anyone had recovered, striking her sword from her hand with my staff, kicking it to the side. I brought the other end of the staff around to strike her across the shoulders. She went down.

The next two had the presence of mind to attack me, and I laid them out before they could even land a blow.

The clink of an arrow skittering across cobbles sounded. The archers had recovered. I took a breath and stamped again. The one who’d fired the arrow hadn’t had time to brace. I heard a yelp as he fell from the rooftop to hit the ground with a thud. The last three soldiers on foot tried to give me space, tried to circle around so they could surround me. But my staff was long, and I could wield it with force even when holding the end of it. I pulled the end of it up to my shoulder, the metal cool against my ear, and swung. Two soldiers jumped back. The last tripped on a stone and my staff caught her in the chest.

I heard the impact of the arrow before I felt it. A ripping, wrenching sound. I faltered, barely catching myself before I could fall. And then a fiery gout of pain from my shoulder. Grimacing, I stamped again, but this time, the archer was ready for it. I heard no more archers falling from the roof. I had to end this quickly, lest I become a pincushion. I took two swift steps toward the remaining two soldiers on the ground, punching one in the gut with the end of my staff, bringing the end of it around to clobber the last one in the head. Vicious moves, but they worked.

When I whirled, I saw a familiar figure running across the rooftops.

“Mephi, you idiot!” I didn’t have time to say anything else.

He sank his sharp little teeth into the calf of one of the archers. He was a fair bit larger than when he’d attacked Philine, so I wasn’t surprised when the archer let out a scream and dropped her bow, trying to dislodge this creature from her leg. Two more archers, and one was aiming at Mephi.

I didn’t think. I threw the staff, hard as I could, at his head.

He tried to get his hands up to protect his face, but they were tangled up in the bow and arrow. The staff hit him, and he rolled off the roof. He hit the ground with a thud and did not rise.

The last archer made a run for it.

“Shit.” My staff hit the cobblestones with a clatter, and I went to pick it up. The other archer was still wrestling on the rooftop with Mephi. I needed to learn how to throw knives or something. I had only my staff – and I could help Mephi or stop the other soldier from raising an alarm. Something in the thrumming shifted. I became aware of how wet the square was. The water puddled on the cobblestones, gathered in the gutters, in clay jugs in the building to my right. Even in the bucket someone had left in an alleyway at the edge of the square. They felt almost like . . . pieces of myself. And then, just as quickly, the sensation vanished.

I didn’t have a choice, not really. I threw the staff at the soldier trying to dislodge Mephi. It went just a little wide, clattering against the tiles. But her grip slipped from Mephi at the noise, and he opened his jaws. The slick tiles provided no purchase as she overbalanced. She rolled to the edge of the roof, falling to the ground with a yelp. She lay there, still.

I was surrounded by blood and bodies, a few of which were still groggily coughing up yet more blood.

A squeak sounded from behind me. Right. The children. The whole reason I’d gotten into this mess in the first place. Some of them had escaped with their parents, but some had come from smaller, neighboring islands and were relying on the soldiers to get them home.

“We’re leaving,” I said to them. “Now.”

The arrow still jutted from my shoulder, aching every time I moved. I reached back and, bracing myself, snapped off the end. Pain radiated from the wound in a burst, setting my teeth and making my breathing come short. I’d have to see to it later. Right now, I had to keep moving.

One of these children’s mother or father had betrayed me, had betrayed all of them. But I still had their money jangling in my purse, and besides, it wasn’t the child’s fault. I’d get them away from the ritual and into safe hands. More easily done on this island, where the Shardless Few had dug in a small foothold in the countryside, away from the cities.