The Drowning City: The Necromancer Chronicles Book One by Amanda Downum Read Free Book Online

over the stone. “I need you to investigate.”
    Zhirin nodded. All the energy had drained from her, leaving fatigue and aches in its place. She wanted to lean into Jabbor,
     to breathe in the smell of his skin and let him hold her till the world felt right again. But weakness wasn’t what he needed
     from her. Her eyes stung.
    “I should go,” she said, wincing as she put weight on her bruised and torn feet. Who would clean up the mess they’d made?
     Perhaps whoever lived here was used to rebels tracking mud and blood across their floor. “I’ll find you when I learn something.”
    Jabbor rose with her and took her hand, tracing a gentle thumb across her knuckles. “Thank you.” And she would have run twice
     as far barefoot for that smile.
    The crowd had thinned when she limped past the ruined warehouse, and guards roped off the shell. She didn’t see Asheris. Smoke
     trailed a gray veil across the city and ashes drifted softly on the breeze.

Chapter 3
    I syllt and Adam found a tavern in Saltlace that night, an expensive one overlooking a broad canal. The sort of place where
     a bored traveler might come to waste time and money—Isyllt thought she could manage that ruse. She lifted her chin as she
     crossed the threshold, letting her hips roll. Midnight blue silk swirled around her ankles and a corset cinched her waist
     and kept her back straight. They drew glances like gnats to the paper lanterns as they crossed the room. Whether it was her
     bare white arms or Adam glowering at her back, she couldn’t say.
    They weren’t the only foreigners. Symir had a reputation as a haven for expatriates—separated from Assar and the northlands,
     it was a place to escape local trouble and live in exotic decadence. If you had the money for it.
    They claimed a table on the balcony and Isyllt let the waiter recommend food and wine. Skiffs paddled in the canal below and
     evening crowds drifted across bridges and along the sidewalks. Xinai was out in the city somewhere—hopefully the mercenary
     would have better luck finding insurgents.
    Their food arrived and inside the tavern musicians began to play, deep drums and a woman’s ululating voice. Blue lantern-light
     glittered on the cutlery and washed Adam’s face cold and gray.
    “How did you meet Kiril?” Isyllt finally asked, picking at the arrangement of rice and fish on her plate. She should have
     asked sooner, but she’d spent too much time during the voyage hiding in her cabin. He studied her for a moment, head tilted.
     She found herself mimicking the gesture and distracted herself with a rice ball.
    “I came to Erisín when I was young,” he said. “Just a stupid orphan brat—I thought I could make a living picking pockets,
     become as good a thief as Magpie Mai, or some nonsense like that.” He snorted and sipped his wine.
    “I was damned lucky Kiril found me, or I’d have wound up in a cell, or the bottom of the Dis. He helped me find work I was
     better suited for.” He touched the hilt of his sword. “So I owe him.”
    Isyllt’s mouth twisted. “He always did like taking in strays.” She glanced down and found her goblet empty. Condensation glistened
     on the curve of the flagon—chilled, but the wine burned going down and kindled a pleasant warmth in the stomach. She refilled
     her cup, let the sweet plum vintage ease the bitter taste in her mouth. Adam watched her, waiting.
    The next cup emptied the pitcher and the waiter appeared to replace it. When he was gone, her bitterness began to leak.
    “He found me when I was fifteen. Not thieving, but bad enough. Selling charms to pay for a tenement room with three other
     girls. I was too stubborn to ask the temple of Erishal to take me in.” She shook her head at half-forgotten pride. “But Kiril
     found me, offered me training without the temple vows. I’ve studied with him for twelve years.” She drained the last of her
     cup in a single swallow. It was enough of an answer, but she