tides and houseboats anchored beyond the trees. Such a simple place to hide, but effective—all the news of the rebels centered around the Xians and the Lhuns, northern forest clans. Who paid attention to a few mud-fishers in the south? Zhirin wasn’t even sure whose lands these had been.
Clouds hid the moon and stars and they risked no witchlights, only a shuttered lantern carried by Isyllt’s sailor companion. Zhirin moved carefully, avoiding submerged root-spears and crab-traps. Fish and snakes brushed past her; larger creatures swam lazily in the bay, and she kept one otherwise ear trained on them. The cold and hungry minds of eel-sharks were a welcome distraction from her own bruised thoughts.
“Are we there yet?” Vienh muttered, crawling around a thicket of roots. The sailor took point while Adam trailed behind, the two mages slogging in between.
Isyllt touched Vasilios’s ring where it hung against her chest, and Zhirin clenched her jaw. A white diamond set in gold—it was hers if she wished to claim it. She couldn’t decide whether she wanted to keep it in remembrance of her master or toss it into the depths of the bay. At least he’d kept no spirits bound in it.
“Not yet,” Isyllt said, “but the pull is stronger. We’re getting closer.” She held her bandaged hand against her chest, away from the water.
Zhirin curled the fingers of her own wounded hand. It only hurt when she thought about it, didn’t even need stitches. She’d cut herself worse on broken shells in the river. But the shells hadn’t been trying to kill her.
How did you grow used to that? When did people become nothing more than threats? The necromancer had offered quiet sympathy but hadn’t tried to hide her relief—one more enemy exposed and dead. Never mind that the enemy had been an old woman whom Zhirin had known for years. She clenched her fist; the scabbed cut cracked and burned.
Vienh paused, waved for silence and checked the lantern shutter. Isyllt and Zhirin moved closer, sloshing as quietly as they could. Ahead, the trees gave way to a narrow finger of water. A house stood on the far side of the inlet, shuttered and dark.
Isyllt touched the diamond and frowned, then turned toward the bay. “What’s out there?” she asked, staring into the dark.
Zhirin squinted but saw only shades of black. She dipped her hand into the water, stretched out better senses. The bay welcomed her in, dark and soothing. Roots and weeds, salt and silt, the soft tickle of fish and crabs, the growing depth and pull of the sea. The sinuous undulations of eel-sharks and sharp, clever thoughts of nakh. And there, not too far from the shore, the weight of a boat, its keel digging into her skin. Delicate shivers rippled through the hull as people walked the decks.
Reluctantly, Zhirin eased out of the water’s embrace, retreating into the stifling solidity of flesh. “A boat. Maybe a houseboat. There are people aboard.”
Isyllt frowned, hand on Vasilios’s ring. “That’s it. They’re there.”
“So we swim?” Adam asked, sounding none too thrilled with the prospect.
“Be careful,” Zhirin said before anyone could move deeper. “There are sharks in the bay. And nakh.” She frowned. “A lot of nakh.”
“Lovely,” muttered Vienh.
“What are they doing here?” she muttered, half to herself. Nakh always swam in the bay, but she’d never heard of so many schooled together. Not since the attack at the festival, at least.
“What should we do?” Isyllt asked. Gratifying, to be asked so seriously, not to be treated as an apprentice, but it meant she had to think of a clever answer.
A solution came to her quickly—it wasn’t exactly clever, but she couldn’t think of anything else.
“I’ll distract them,” she said, before she could think better of it. “Wait a moment, then start swimming.” She unbuttoned her blouse, hung it over a tree branch. The night wasn’t cold, but gooseflesh prickled over her arms.
Isyllt’s eyebrows rose, but all she said was, “All right.”
Zhirin hoped it was confidence in her abilities, not callous disregard for her life.
She tugged off her shoes too, set them dripping beside her shirt. Mother, she prayed, watch over your idiot child. Mud shifted like gritty silk between her toes. A few steps and the water closed around her ribs. Her chest swelled with breath as she slipped under.
She hadn’t thought when she dove into the canal after Isyllt at the festival, only acted. It was much easier that way. She let the fear slip away in bubbles of air.