The Bone Shard Daughter: The Drowning Empire Book One

by Andrea Stewart

  I’d found Mephi near Deerhead, which was close to the end of the Monkey’s Tail. I’d never seen a creature like him. He had to come from somewhere, so there had to be others of his kind. But what kind of creature could blow clouds of white smoke?

  Mephi, for his part, didn’t seem to notice my brooding. He dove overboard whenever I gave him permission, asking “not good?” and “very good?” in equal measure, until I began to sit him down in the evenings in an effort to teach him something else. Anything else. The word “good” was starting to lose all meaning to me. But he was a fair bit better at catching fish than I was, and I was soon glad I’d kept him with me, if for no other reason than this.

  At night, he curled up by my cheek, his nose nuzzled in the space between my ear and shoulder, murmuring until he fell asleep.

  I kept an eye out for the blue-sailed boat, but I fell into the sort of haze that routine brings. So it was more than a little startling when I stopped in a small harbor and heard the first stirrings of the song.

  Mephi had grown to cat-sized in the interim, but still small enough to ride on my shoulders. I had stopped at a drinking hall to see if I could buy some supplies from the owner. A musician in the corner played with a set of bells and a small drum at his belt.

  “Just the barrel of fresh water, if you have it,” I said to the woman behind the corner. She had the same staid attitude as Danila. I stopped her as she started to turn around. “Actually, a sack of rice too?”

  “That’s an extra two silvers,” she said.

  “Two?” I had the money, but I did enjoy a good bargain.

  The tune sneaked up on me from behind, like a thief taking your purse. It wormed its way into my head before I’d realized it, my foot tapping in time to the beat. Catchy, no matter that I didn’t dance.

  “Aye, two,” the woman said, scowling. “If you haven’t been living in a cave, you’ll know about Deerhead. More people wanting rice. Less rice.”

  And then I heard my name. A shock ran through me, my heart freezing and then kicking at my ribs like a horse trying to get free. It was my name. In a song.

  He steals your children, sets them free

  The constructs’ power source they’ll never be

  He’s a star in the sky, the twinkle in your eye

  He’s Jovis.

  Mephi chirruped right in my ear, his tail winding around my throat. He definitely knew more words than not good and very good.

  “We need to get out of here,” I muttered to him. “Yes, I’ll pay the two silvers,” I said to the woman. I fumbled for my purse, missing twice before I found it, my wrist catching against my belt. “Here.” The coins clinked on the countertop.

  She looked to the coins, and then her eyes looked a little higher.

  I felt the air against my wrist before I realized that the bandage had slipped. There was my rabbit tattoo, in all its glory. If I knew what was good for me, I’d have scarred it over.

  “Jovis?” she said.

  Just the posters were bad enough when I’d been running from the Empire and the Ioph Carn. Now I was trying to hide from people who thought I was some sort of hero.

  “They paid me to do it. Steal the children, that is,” I explained to her. I could have opened my mouth and vomited frogs, and she would have treated me with the same cursed reverence. “I’ve only saved three.”

  “Take the rice,” she said, reaching beneath the counter and putting a sack on it. She pushed my coins back to me. Other people were starting to notice.

  I seized my coins and whirled, looking for the door.

  The music had stopped.

  “Jovis,” an old woman said from my right. The lamp above her turned, casting moving shadows across her stricken face. “I have a grandson turning eight.”

  “My niece,” another woman said. “Her father died of shard sickness two years ago.”

  And then they were standing from their seats in the drinking hall, moving around the wooden pillars so they could make eye contact with me. Clamoring, begging. So many voices. So many wants and fears. So many children.

  A tremor started in my bones, a humming that shook me from the tips of my ears to the end of my toes. It asked to be released somehow. “Stop!” I stamped my foot on the ground, expecting just to sway the floorboards a little.

  The foundation shook. Dishes rattled on their shelves. The beams creaked, a little dust coming loose. This was more than just the result of strength. This was something else.

  Everyone, with Deerhead Island so recent, stilled. All the bells on the musician’s bandolier chimed with the fading vibration, the only sound left in the hall. I glanced from face to face and saw fear writ there. So much for my quick, quiet stop at a harbor to restock supplies. I went for the door and everyone moved out of my way.

  The breeze was warm and wet, ruffling Mephi’s fur. I could still feel my pulse pounding at my neck.

  The time I’d picked up Philine. The man in the alleyway I’d almost toppled. The ease with which I’d done my work on the ship. Myfast-healing wounds. They weren’t just coincidences, some trick of my mind. Now, with the shaking of the drinking hall, I had to admit it. Something had changed, was changing with me. I’d always been different; the people around me couldn’t stop reminding me of it. But my differences had always meant I had less power. I could shout into a room and be ignored in favor of other voices. Now, I could make the same room tremble. I should have felt excited; who could ignore me now? But I couldn’t seem to stop my hands from trembling.

  “Is it you?” I said to Mephi.

  “Perhaps,” he said in his squeaky little voice. As though he knew what thoughts turned in my head.

  I nearly jumped out of my skin. “Perhaps? After bombarding me with ‘not good’ and ‘very good’ for days, now you give me ‘perhaps’?”

  “Still learning. Don’t know. Many things don’t know,” Mephi said, nuzzling my ear with his cold nose. I shivered, and only half from the chill. I’d thought him like a parrot, and here he was, speaking fully formed thoughts like a child. I couldn’t gain my bearings. It felt like I stood at the edge of a dark sinkhole and I was catching glimpses of movement far, far below.

  Looking about, I found a large branch fallen from the recent storms. I picked it up and tried to break it. The bark merely roughed up my palms.

  Mephi crawled halfway down my arm, patting my elbow with his little paws. “Try harder.”

  When I’d made the foundation of the drinking hall tremble, I’d been panicking a little, just wanting everyone to stop, to leave me alone. This branch – I needed to want it to break. A part of me wanted it to, and a part of me didn’t want it to. Because this sort of change, I knew, was the sort a person didn’t come back from. I would be plunging into that sinkhole, unsure of what lay at the bottom and with no one to guide my next steps. “I’m afraid.”

  Mephi merely scrambled back up to my shoulders, paws combing through my hair. “Is fine. Me too.”

  I could run from this, the way I’d been running from the Empire and from the Ioph Carn. But I’d rather be running to something, and not inadvertently causing havoc as I went. I pushed away the fear and concentrated. The humming began in my bones again. I could almost hear it if I held my breath and listened.

  When I bent the branch again, it broke beneath my hands as easily as if it were a twig. “How is this possible?”

  “Don’t know,” Mephi said. “Neat though.”

  I laughed and let the two pieces of the branch fall to the ground. “I suppose, in a manner of speaking. But what are you, Mephi? Are you a sea serpent like Mephisolou?” In the stories, the ancient sea serpents had magical powers and could speak like people did.

  I said it jokingly, but Mephi only wrapped his tail around my neck and shivered. “Don’t know.”

  That made the both of us.

  The noise within the drinking hall had begun to reassert itself, the musician playing another song with his bells and his drums. No one, it seemed, had the c
ourage to chase me down. “Should we still get our rice and water?”

  “Rice!” Mephi said with satisfaction. I wasn’t sure if I was feeding a creature sometimes, or some sort of bottomless pit in the shape of an animal. How was I going to keep him if he kept growing?

  Steeling myself, I strode back inside the drinking hall.

  The whole room went silent again; the only noise was the creak of the lamps swinging from the breeze that came with me in the door. “I’m just here to buy some food and water,” I said to the patrons. “I’m not here to rescue anyone, or to cause any trouble. Just food.” I lifted my hands as one would when approaching a wounded animal.

  They watched me as I went back to the counter and pulled four silver coins from my purse. “And I’ll pay for what I take,” I said to the owner.

  She took my coins grudgingly.

  “Jovis,” a voice said from behind me.

  I was getting very, very tired of hearing my name on others’ lips. I turned and found my way out of the hall blocked by my least favorite member of the Ioph Carn.

  Philine.

  I almost expected to see her wet and bedraggled, as if she’d just emerged from the bay I’d dumped her in. Instead she was back in her leathers – new ones, by the looks of them, with various sharp implements planted in various places on her body. Her baton was out and in her hand. “How long did you think you could run for?” she asked me. “The Ioph Carn has more resources than you do, and our ships are nearly as fast.”

  “I don’t want trouble,” I said. “There are a lot of people here that could get hurt. Yourself included.”

  She rolled her eyes. “What, more cloud juniper bark? Please. I don’t fall for the same stupid trick twice. You’re coming with me. Back to Kaphra.”

  I just wanted my thrice-bedamned rice and water. I curled my hands into fists and felt the strength in them. “I don’t want to hurt you,” I said, and was surprised to find that I meant it. All I’d ever wanted was just to be left alone to find the woman who had been my wife – years ago.

  “Oh, you’re very funny. Keep trying me, though, and I’m going to start to feel insulted. Besides, you think it’s just me here for you?” she said, scorn in her voice. “I’ve five more with me, all of them trained by my hand.”

  “Let me pass,” I said. “I’ll get you your money, and I won’t hurt any of you.” Mephi, on my shoulder, crouched and shoved his nose behind my ear.

  Five more men and women filtered in behind Philine, all wearing the same leathers. Philine laughed. “What are you going to do this time? Summon the Alanga Dione back from the dead? Call a sea serpent to eat us? How many more stories does Jovis have up his sleeve? You were lucky last time. There are more of us now. And we all know you’re a liar.”

  “Let everyone here leave,” I said, eyeing the nervous patrons.

  Philine looked to the ceiling as though she found the wood pattern there particularly interesting. “And then what, Jovis? What do you think is going to happen here?”

  I nodded to the owner behind the bar, and she walked swiftly around it. “You can settle your debts later,” she said. She gathered the other people inside the hall and ushered them out. The Ioph Carn didn’t move to allow them to pass, but neither did they stop them.

  “What about your pet?” Philine said, her voice mocking. “Aren’t you afraid he’s going to get hurt too?”

  “I just want to go,” I said. I took a step toward the door. All six of the Ioph Carn took a step forward.

  “Ah ah ah,” Philine said. “No farther.”

  “Or what? You’ll kill me? Isn’t Kaphra planning on that anyways? To make an example?”

  They all stepped toward me again, and Philine raised her baton.

  I lifted a hand. “Don’t.”

  “Well, now I am feeling insulted.” Philine’s mouth twisted on the words, the look in her eye sharp as the daggers at her belt.

  I felt a thrumming deep within me, tremors like the shaking of Deerhead, vibrating outward to the tips of my fingers. I drew myself up and made for the door. “Don’t stop me.”

  A smile quirked at the corner of Philine’s mouth. She’d wanted me to try because she wanted to hurt me. The baton came down swiftly, right toward my shoulders.

  I caught it.

  Despite what I’d done outside with the branch, I was still surprised. Philine seemed more surprised still. Her eyes widened in disbelief, and then she gritted her teeth, trying to force the baton down.

  No. Not ever again. I seized the baton with both hands and this time I was not afraid. I broke it cleanly in two. The snap reverberated from the walls of the drinking hall, and Philine let go. I tossed the two broken ends of it to the side. “Let me pass.”

  Philine studied me for a moment, puzzled, as though I were a freshwater fish she’d found in the ocean. And then she shook her head slowly. “No.” With steady fingers, she pulled two daggers from her belt.

  The Ioph Carn behind her didn’t waver at all. They were with her to the end.

  I took a deep breath. I hoped I wasn’t wrong about this. “Go, Mephi,” I said. He hopped from my shoulders and ran beneath a table.

  Not one of the Ioph Carn shouted, not one grimaced; they only darted in, quick as swallows.

  I ducked to the left of Philine’s swing and gave her a push. Not even all my strength, and she flew back. Mugs shattered as her body wiped a table. Another woman swiped at me with a sword. I caught her hand and gave her a kick to the ribs. I felt the bone give way and break beneath my foot. She crumpled.

  The next two came at me quickly, and I hopped back, trying to give myself more space. The Ioph Carn weren’t mere brawlers, and Philine was a good teacher. The two hung back, waiting for the other two, and together, the four of them spread out, trying to surround me.

  Me? I avoided a fight whenever I could. I had no training. Only my wits and what gifts Mephi had given me. Wits had to count for something, didn’t they? I grabbed chairs from my left and right and flung them at the men and women approaching, hard as I could.

  The chairs splintered on two of the Ioph Carn, sending shards of wood into the air. They both collapsed, one with a splinter of wood through his shoulder. Had I really thrown that hard?

  The other two, both men, rushed me, not even checking on their fallen companions. I’d spent too long awed by my own strength. I wasn’t ready.

  A flash of pain burst across my ribs, and then a warm, burning sensation. I kicked back again and felt something crack beneath my foot. I didn’t have time to check the wound or how bad it was. I caught the other man’s wrist before he could bring his blade down on my arm. Quick as I could, I squeezed until his grip opened, and then cast the offending blade away. I didn’t want to hurt or kill anyone. The man merely frowned when I let him go and pulled a dagger from his boot.

  “There’s one of you and one of me,” I said. “Do you really want to do this?”

  He had the scowling countenance of a barracuda, with a raised scar across his cheek. He said nothing, only flitted his gaze up and down my body as if searching for some weakness. Behind him, Philine groaned. She began to push herself to her feet.

  The thrum inside me grew into a roar. “Just . . . stop!” I picked up the table to my right and broke off a leg, wielding it like a club.

  The scarred man advanced.

  I caught his slash on the table leg and then let it go. His dagger, embedded in the wood, carried his arm down, unbalancing him. I seized him by the back of his leather jerkin and helped him along to the floor. His face crashed into the wooden floorboards and he lay there, still.

  When I looked up again, Philine was standing just beyond, two daggers in her hands. She regarded me with a mixture of fear and annoyance. “What are you?”

  It was the very same question I’d asked of Mephi. A man in search of his wife. A smuggler. A thief of children. They swirled together in my mind. “I don’t know.”

  Philine considered, her head tilted to the side. And
then she nodded to herself almost imperceptibly. “Come back with me to Kaphra. We can find a way to use your talents. He’ll forgive your debt.”

  I almost laughed in disbelief. “Do you think that’s what I want?”

  She shrugged. “Don’t all men seek power?”

  I could feel that thrumming inside me, the hum in the air before a lightning bolt struck. “I just want to be left alone!” I stamped my foot again, and the entire building shook. It creaked and groaned like an old man with an ailment.

  Philine remembered Deerhead. The color drained from her face, her gaze going to the ceiling beams. Her men and women were slowly drawing themselves up, clutching their injuries, but even they froze when the drinking hall trembled.

  “Get out,” I said.

  They fled, half-running, half-limping. Even Philine.

  I had no illusions. This was the Ioph Carn and no one crossed the Ioph Carn. They’d be back after me again with more of their kind. Exhausted, I sank into a chair and poured myself a mug of wine from the pitcher at the table, heedless of who had drunk from it just moments before. The wine slid down my throat and cooled the fire in my belly.

  Mephi, from the other side of the drinking hall, chirruped. He crept out from beneath the table. I held out my hand to him and he scampered over, dodging the leftover remains of the two chairs. I helped him into my lap, and he pressed his furry head to my chest. “Very good,” he said as I scratched his ears. “I still can’t decide if you’re more trouble than you’re worth.”

  I was halfway through my mug of wine when the drinking hall owner pushed open the door. She eyed the damage.

  “I’ll pay for it,” I said. It would pinch my purse, but I wasn’t a cyclone or a monsoon, heedless of the wreckage I left in my wake.