The Drowning City - Amanda Downum [105]
Jabbor smiled, though tension tightened his jaw. “I know all about my shortcomings, Kwan. Get to the point.”
Zhirin swallowed, trying not to fidget on the hard bench. She’d always thought that Kwan’s dislike for her was half born of jealousy; her cheeks stung as she realized her own childishness.
“The point,” Kwan said, biting off the words, “is that I no longer stand with the Dai Tranh. The Tigers may be soft, but the Dai Tranh goes too far, and means to go further still.”
She turned to face the room, one hand reaching for her absent sword hilt; she tucked her fingers into her belt instead. “The Dai Tranh found a diamond mine in the forest on the far side of the mountain. The Khas has been harvesting soul-stones for years, using Sivahri prisoners.”
Voices rose again, louder and angrier. Jabbor couldn’t quiet them, but finally Kwan shouted them down.
“That’s right. And that’s the fury you should feel—but Selei Xian has let her rage madden her. She means to sabotage the mountain itself and let its fire destroy the mine and the Kurun Tam. The others won’t gainsay her.”
“What?” Zhirin’s voice carried in the stunned silence, and her cheeks burned. Kwan turned to face her and she rallied her wits, pushing herself to her feet. “Never mind the madness of it—they’d burn their own lands as well—but the mountain is warded.”
Kwan smiled. “Oh, yes. But we—they—have someone inside the Kurun Tam. Did you think you were the only one, little mage? They know about the wards and how to destroy them. The plan is insanity, but I believe they could do it. That’s why I’m here. Lhun lands will burn, and that I cannot allow.”
Zhirin sat, catching Jabbor’s arm to steady herself. The one thing taught above all other lessons at the Kurun Tam was respect for the mountain. Vasilios had shown her text after text from the Assari histories, painstaking illuminations of the volcanoes found in the southern empire and the devastation they caused when they erupted.
The council became an ocean of angry voices, and she used the confusion to explain the conversation to Isyllt. By the time she’d finished, Zhirin couldn’t tell who was yelling what.
“Enough!” Jabbor finally shouted, his voice carrying from floor to rafters. “Whatever the arguments, do we at least agree that burning Sivahra is…ill-considered?” The Tigers nodded, a few snorting at his dry tone. “Kwan, how much time do we have?”
“They’ll move tonight. I imagine they’ll stage a distraction for the Khas first. And there’s more. You’ve heard the rumors of the White Hand? Well, they’re true. The Dai Tranh witches have recruited the unsung dead to fight for them.”
Another silence filled the room and Jabbor spoke before it could erupt. “Then it’s lucky we have a necromancer with us, isn’t it?”
After breakfast, Selei divided the warriors into groups. The Ki Dai, living and dead, would go to the mountain—it would take all their witchcraft to break the wards. The rest would provide distractions to keep the Khas and the Kurun Tam busy.
Riuh frowned as they were separated, but Xinai was glad of the reprieve. Between her cramps and the task ahead of her, the last thing she needed was him lingering at her side, or her mother’s smug and knowing glances.
As the witchless groups began to slip away, a warrior pulled Selei aside for a whispered conversation. A Lhun, Xinai guessed from his nose and broad cheeks. Not many other clans had joined the Dai Tranh—Lhuns and Khans, a scattering of clanless. And her.
As she stared at the broken walls and empty houses of Cay Lin, it was hard to share Selei’s optimism. The thought of babies was foreign, and for all of Riuh’s affection, she had no desire to marry. Not even Adam had made her think of family, and there had been a time when she’d imagined spending the rest of her life with him. Not that a mercenary’s life was often long.
Not that a revolutionary’s was any longer.
Worry about it later, she told herself. If they survived the night.
Selei finished talking to the