The Bone Shard Daughter (The Drowning Empire, #1)(90)

“And the stories,” I said.

He shook his head and pushed past a branch. “Who knows what’s true and what’s not? The Emperor propagates most stories, and his forebears too. Those are his words and the words of his ancestors. You should know more than most that stories stretch the truth. Every time he feels insecure in his rule, he sends out those stupid troupes to act out the defeat of the Alanga.”

There is truth in lies. “So the tale of Arrimus, who loved her people and defended them against the sea serpent Mephisolou, is a fiction of the Empire? Seems a bright fiction to be told by an Emperor who claims the Alanga are dangerous. And what of Dione, the greatest of the Alanga, who wept and begged for death when the first Emperor found him?”

Gio’s shoulders stiffened. “Only fools believe everything they hear.”

Interesting. I’d raised his hackles in some way. I prodded him further. “And only fools discount everything they hear.”

“What fish do you have in this net, Jovis?” Gio asked with a sigh. “Are you one of those who worship the memory of the Alanga, who hope for their return? Or are you just an ass?”

Despite my unease, I couldn’t help but smile. “I’ve been told I’m the latter more times than I’d like to admit.” We trudged in silence for a while before I cleared my throat. “I don’t know you, Gio. I’ve heard of you. But if we’re to wade into this side by side, I want to know a little more of who you are.” What I wanted to know was how they found the Alanga stronghold, and what the book meant. Were there more hidden doors? How had I opened the one I’d found? But I couldn’t ask.

“I don’t even know who I am; how can you?”

He sounded so weary when he said it that my usual smart responses died on my lips. I held my injured arm close to my chest, put my head down and focused on following him through the forest. Rain splashed at the back of my neck and slicked my hair to my head. We’d both had stories told about us and we both knew these stories held only grains of truth.

We reached the hillside leading up to the palace near sunset. Gio studied the scroll again. “The entrance is hidden, on the southern side.” He pulled a couple of lightweight green cloaks from his bag. “We climb and we hide among the bushes. I’d planned to make this ascent at night, but the rain will provide cover, and it will be dark by the time we reach the top. That’s when the riot will begin.”

If I’d still had the thrum in my bones, I would have reached the top with daylight to spare. But I said nothing, only draped the cloak around my shoulders and followed him up the slope. We ducked beneath branches each time the guard on the walls looked our way, and grasped at rocks. It was slow going.

“So what happens next after you overthrow this governor?” I said when we were halfway up. I’d asked him this before, I knew, but I’d never been good at keeping silences.

For a while, he said nothing, and I thought he’d chosen to ignore me. “I’m not a fool, if that’s what you think. With the caro nuts, we can force some of the nobility over to our side. We’ll have Khalute and Nephilanu by then, and more are joining the Shardless Few every day. It will be the start of a true rebellion. We strengthen our foothold here, and then strike out at other islands.”

“And will the new governor be amenable to this plan?” I asked. I knew where this was going. A coup did not end with the usual line of succession.

“You don’t trust me,” Gio said, “and that’s fine. I wouldn’t trust me either. But I do care for the people of the Empire, and I do believe the Sukai Dynasty needs to come to an end. You don’t need to see me as a leader. You don’t need to believe the stories. But if you care at all for those children you’ve saved, if it was ever about more than the money, then you’d stay. I don’t know why you’re searching for that boat, or why it haunts you. But if you haven’t caught it yet – you never will. Better to stand with the Shardless Few. Time is waning, Jovis. It always is. You can spend your life chasing and running, living half a life.”

I waited, a dark, sick feeling writhing in my chest – because I knew it wasn’t him I was angry with. But he didn’t say anything more. “Or what?” I spat out the words, rain trickling into my eyes.

“That,” he said, finding his grip on another rock and pulling himself upward, “is entirely up to you.”

The gloom of the day had faded into the gloom of nightfall by the time we reached the top, and the rain had slowed to a drizzle. “Here,” Gio said. He drew aside some foliage to expose a door painted the same colors as the wall. He pulled a key from his bag. “We’ve been working on this plan for a long time.”

I adjusted my grip on my staff. I had to tell him I didn’t have my abilities. Now, before it was too late. I didn’t trust him, but I didn’t have a choice.

But then he was opening the door and it was too late. Beyond stood two guards in a small room, one facing us and one away, both looking bored. I stared at the one facing the door for a moment.

He moved first, drawing his sword. The other guard turned.

My injured arm throbbed and burned. This was it – the moment I couldn’t avoid.

“Jovis . . .” Gio’s voice.

I rushed into the room, my staff held at the ready. And then I reached again for the thrum in my bones.