Page 60 of City of Stone and Silence

“You can’t just give up—”

“’Course I can.” He narrows his eyes. “Your sister’s dead, kid, or as good as. Get used to it. The Immortals play for keeps.”

“Tori.”

Now it’s Garo restraining me. I’ve stepped toward Thul without realizing it. I want to reach out to him with Kindre, to twist his mind and make him eat his awful words, to admit that Isoka only needs to be rescued—

“She was a good ward boss,” Thul says, his tone growing slightly more somber. “Had a temper, but she didn’t pick fights or beat her bedwarmers or get stupid on smoke. So here’s what I’m going to do for you, kid. One-time offer.” He leans forward. “Walk out that door and never bother me again, and I’ll forget about you, and about the trouble your sister caused in her unfortunate passing. Sounds square?”

“It sounds…” I take a deep breath. “Fine.”

“Good. Get lost.” He makes a dismissive gesture, then tilts his head appraisingly. “Though if you ever need work, you come to me. I’m sure we can figure something out.”

I turn on my heel and stalk out of the room, Garo hurrying to keep up.

“We’re leaving?” he says.

“We got what we need from him,” I say. “We know where Isoka is.”

“But—”

“Now,” I say, with a great more confidence than I’m feeling, “we just need to figure out what to do about it.”

12

ISOKA

The sun is setting, turning the clouds to blood and the ocean to liquid fire. The jungle cacophony has redoubled its efforts, a rising chorus of rhythmic animal sound, punctuated by flights of birds. I watch, exhausted, trying not to close my eyes.

When I close my eyes I see Safiya screaming as the king of the lizard-birds rips her in half. In my memory she’s still screaming as it pulls her torso free, still screaming as she tumbles down its gullet in a spray of blood and a tangle of writhing guts. I don’t think that’s right—a person couldn’t be alive through that, still shrieking in pain as—

“Isoka?” Meroe’s voice.

My eyes snap open again, but I don’t say anything.

I hear her padding across the stone. I’m sitting at the very top of the ziggurat on a flat stone roof that’s featureless except for the hole leading down into the stairwell. There was a guard up here—Meroe’s security is thorough as always—but I dismissed her. Now I sit on the edge, legs dangling over one colossal step, facing north toward the sea and the enormous shape of Soliton in its dock.

Still there. But not for long. And still out of my reach.

“There you are.” Meroe pauses beside me, shading her eyes against the setting sun. “You didn’t tell anyone where you were going.”

“Sorry.” I pull my blanket a little tighter around myself.

After a moment, Meroe sits down beside me. I don’t look at her. I don’t dare.

“Thora’s doing well,” she says. “She should be awake in the next day or two. It’ll be a while before she’s fit to fight, of course.”

“That’s good.” I pause. “You’ve been practicing.”

“A little,” Meroe says. “I didn’t want to be in a situation where I could save someone, and … hesitate.”

“That’s … good.”

There’s a long silence.

“Isoka,” Meroe says, in the gentle tone of voice you might use to calm a frantic animal. “It isn’t your fault.”

“Don’t be stupid.” I hunch over in the blanket. “Of course it’s my fault.”