The Drowning City - Amanda Downum [121]
She couldn’t bind the ghost, not without her name, but she could break the connection to Xinai. Her diamond blazed, a cold light that sliced through the shadows but didn’t lessen them. Her bones ached as she called on the abyss again. Her fingers cramped around the pouch.
This spell was nothing compared to the diamond collar. Leather stiffened and cracked. Thread rotted. A lump of rust-stained wood splintered, till nothing was left but a pile of silver dust on her palm. She tilted her hand and that too was gone.
Xinai slumped in Adam’s arms and he staggered, both of them sinking to the ground. The ghost remained, bloody and wild-eyed, flinching away from the nothing that Isyllt wielded, the darkness that swallowed even the dead.
For a moment she contemplated it, reaching out for the ghost, unraveling all the skeins of memory and madness and desire that held wraiths to the living world.
Instead she lowered her hand with a sigh. “What you need is to move on,” Isyllt told the woman. “Go.”
And like a gust of wind, she was gone.
“What did you do?” Asheris asked. His warmth lined her side as he leaned in. Cold sweat beaded on her back; the fever was coming on.
“Just a banishment. It’s not permanent, but maybe she’ll have time to think.”
Xinai stirred, tears tracking through the mud on her cheeks. “Mira,” she whispered, one hand groping at her neck.
Isyllt turned away. “Deilin.”
The ghost appeared beside her. Her lips parted as she looked up at the dome of water. “What’s happened?”
“Everything the Dai Tranh wanted, mostly.”
Black eyes turned back to Isyllt. “What now, then?”
“I’m going home. You spoke of going east, of the Ashen Wind.” She gestured to the gray ceiling. “The wind is nothing but ashes now. Will you try it?”
Deilin cocked her head. “Does that mean—”
Isyllt nodded. The words were only ritual, but she spoke them anyway. “I release you. But for the love of heaven, leave the children alone.”
The ghost nodded, then looked down at her wound—the bloodstain on her shirt was shrinking.
“Tell my granddaughters…” She shook her head with a rueful smile. “No, never mind. Let them be. Good-bye, necromancer.” And then she was gone.
The ground shuddered softly and brick dust trickled from the broken walls. Adam stood, Xinai in his arms. “Time to go.”
Vienh started to harangue them when they returned to the dock, but stopped when she saw Xinai and Adam’s grim face.
“Will she live?” he asked Isyllt, easing her down.
She touched the woman’s shoulder carefully. Bruises and scrapes, strained muscles, a broken arm and fractured ribs. But no damage to the heart, no poison in the blood. “I think so. She needs rest, medicine, but no miracles.” She glanced up. “Are you going to stay with her?”
A muscle twitched in his jaw. “No,” he said after a moment. “She made her choice.” He nodded toward the Tigers. “They can look after her. And I promised to see you back safe.” He glanced at her sling. “Or as close as I’ve managed.”
She gave him a lopsided smile. “Close enough for government work.”
“I’m not rowing you to Selafai in a storm-cursed longboat,” Vienh shouted across the quay, kicking the boat in question. “Let’s go.”
Isyllt turned to Asheris. Her arm itched and she’d started to shake; her voice was dying fast and taking her wits with it. “If you’re ever in Erisín—” she said at last.
“Yes.” He smiled, took her hand and pressed a kiss on her filthy knuckles. “Or come to Assar. I’ll show you the Sea of Glass.”
“If it’s anything like the mountain, please don’t bother.” She grinned, squeezing his hand. He didn’t flinch from her ring this time.
His smile stretched and he leaned down to kiss her brow. “Go home, necromancer.” It sounded like a benediction.
She couldn’t wish him the same. “Good luck,” she said instead. She turned toward the waiting boat and didn’t look back till they’d crossed the river’s shining veil.
Epilogue
The news beat them home. Only days after the destruction