The Drowning City - Amanda Downum [94]
“Asheris!”
His grip didn’t loosen, but he turned toward Zhirin. The girl paused at the edge of the light, Murai cradled in her arms.
“Which do you want more—Isyllt, or your master’s daughter? She’s drugged and half-drowned. She needs help.”
His chest hitched sharply. His magelights flickered, and shadows twisted across his face. Isyllt gasped as he let go.
“You keep dangerous company, Miss Laii. Set the girl down and get out of here. Let them go,” he told the soldiers. The compulsion on Isyllt crumbled and she stumbled away, clutching her scalded arm to her chest.
“How—”
“I’ve run out of leash,” he said softly. “If I find you again, I must kill you or return you to the Khas. Try not to be found.”
The look on his face brought a sharp lump of pity to her throat. She swallowed it down and fled into the swamp.
Chapter 17
They stumbled into the Storm God’s Bride a few hours before dawn, slipping in the back to avoid the lingering patrons. Isyllt expected Vienh to send them away, but instead she gave them a room upstairs and left. Isyllt was grateful for both reprieves.
She nearly collapsed on the bed, but rallied enough energy to ward the room and strip off her damp and filthy clothes first. Her right arm itched and throbbed from wrist to elbow, and her left hand was stiff and near-useless. The red print of Asheris’s hand circled her forearm, blisters bubbling where the tips of his fingers had dug in.
“Cute trick,” Adam said, inspecting her arm.
“I’m lucky he decided to talk first and incinerate me after.” She moved her hand, wincing as the burn stretched and stung. Mud crusted in the creases of her skin and flecks of leaf and dirt clung to her. She could feel the fever rising again as her magic and body strove to fight off whatever filth was in the bay.
Adam slipped out, returned a moment later with water, clean towels, and a bowl of crushed aloe. Isyllt fumbled with a damp cloth for a bit before he took it from her and cleaned the burn.
“We need to find that ship and get out of here.”
Isyllt nodded, staring at the scuffed planks beyond her toes. She needed to leave. Especially if the thought filled her with such ambivalence. Her work was dangerous enough without worrying about the men trying to kill her. If she lost her focus, she’d end up like Vasilios.
“You won’t prove anything by killing yourself,” Adam said softly, smearing cool sap over her arm.
She frowned, then chuckled wryly. She might be a fool where Asheris was concerned, but at least it distracted her from being a fool over Kiril.
“We wait for the ship,” she said. “It’s the best we can do—wait and pray that Siddir can accomplish what he claims.”
“Pity we keep killing the people we were supposed to help.” Adam wrapped the burn loosely and knotted the bandage.
“They tried to kill us first.” She leaned against the wall; the room was swimming, and she couldn’t bring it into focus. Maybe she could blame the fever on the question that rose to her tongue. “Are you just going to leave her?”
Adam shrugged, lips tightening. “She made her choices. What’s the use in arguing?”
“No use,” she whispered. Her eyes sagged shut. “No use at all.”
He caught her as she slumped, eased her onto the mattress. His hand tightened on hers, a fleeting sympathy, and then sleep pulled her away.
Zhirin came home aching and tired, weary to the bone in the absence of the night’s fear. As she eased the door shut and locked it, she noticed a light burning in the kitchen. Mau was up very early, she thought for an instant, but no.
Her mother was waiting for her.
“It’s true, isn’t it?” Fei Minh said. She sat at the table, a cup of tea at her elbow. Dark circles ringed her eyes and shadows lined the weary creases on her face. “You’re running with the Tigers.”
Not tonight, she almost said. But there was no point in childish equivocations. “Yes.”
Her mother shook her head, unbound hair sliding over her shoulders. More silver threaded the ink-black than Zhirin remembered. “I prayed that Faraj was wrong, that you wouldn’t be so foolish.” Her eyes narrowed. “You’re going