“How long?” Nisong said, judging her pile of carved shards. It could be enough. It might be enough. If she sent out too few at once, they’d lose any numbers advantage. The constructs she was creating wouldn’t be Tirang, or even second-tier war constructs. They’d be something a little less than third-tier. Skill wouldn’t be on their side. The previous isle had been small; even after her constructs had rounded up the corpses of the people they’d killed, there weren’t enough. She needed more dead flesh to make enough constructs to defend against the Empire’s soldiers.

They’d had to create more bodies on this island.

The gull tilted its head, as though that might help it peer through the rainy streets below. “Not long. We put the most time into the first barricade. They’ll be at the palace walls soon, and those are more decorative than defensive.”

“Quickly,” she said to Leaf. “Fifteen more, all at once.”

He raised an eyebrow and leaned in. “Nisong, is that wise? If they choose to resist, that’s more than we can reasonably handle. I know we’re desperate, but so are they.”

She closed her eyes. “Bring the children.”

To Leaf’s credit, he hesitated only a moment before leaving the room. She didn’t want to tithe the younger ones; she’d argued before against putting children through the Tithing. But their doom was fast approaching and regrets could be addressed later. Shiyen had said the memories of children were duller so it was doing them a favor. And it had always been done thus. She reached reflexively behind her right ear. The skin there was smooth, no soft spot she could feel. He’d repaired the blemish before placing the commands and memories within her body. She wasn’t sure why he’d bothered doing that and then hadn’t added back the missing two fingers of her left hand. Or perhaps she’d lost those later and had forgotten.

She had no memories of the Festival. Her fingers ached as she carved the next five shards, as the children were brought in, shaking and crying. A few reached new hysterical heights as they entered. Oh – the bodies next to the bed; she should have at least hidden the bodies. Too late for that now. Better to be done quickly than to drag this out. She signaled to Leaf, who took the hammer and chisel in hand.

They cried, yes, but they didn’t scream. One casualty of the fifteen – a girl who wouldn’t stay still when she was asked to. Her shard would be useless.

The gull called from its perch at the windowsill. “The soldiers are at the gates.”