She kept vigil on Luangon. Ships in the water had come to the same conclusion that Leaf had, their sails adjusting as they tried to get away. Thin white trails of smoke rose into the sky as people burnt witstone. Other boats launched from the docks. If Leaf was right, they might still be doomed. But she supposed if it were her, she’d still reach for a frayed rope. Survival was a heady instinct.

The harbors disappeared, and then some of the buildings. The creaking and groaning from breaking wood and falling stone made the island sound like a living thing, mortally wounded. Now, watching it happening, she believed the stories about Deerhead. Was this the Empire she was fighting so hard to take over? One that was slowly drowning in the Endless Sea? If another island was sinking, what was stopping the rest?

Despair was a heavy, suffocating companion, hung about shoulders never strong enough to bear its weight. It smothered her, making her breath come short.

Or maybe Grass was still alive, trying to escape before being dragged beneath the water. She had to stop thinking about it. Shell and Frond had died in fear. Was this the fate that awaited all of them?

Buildings submerged, followed by treetops, hills. The sinking accelerated until the mountains began to slip beneath the surface of the water like a whale descending after taking a breath. Birds rushed up from the island in dark, moving clouds, trying to escape. It didn’t seem like it should be happening. She was watching a nightmare.

And then it was gone. Water rushed in to fill the void where the island had been. They were too far away for Nisong to see individual ships, but she could see flashes of white disappear – sails dragged under. She’d wanted to wreak violence upon them, but a violence of her making, not this massive disaster that dragged in even Grass.

“Brace yourself,” Leaf called out.

She meant to ask why, but then she saw the wave, radiating outward. A wall of water, fast approaching. Her mouth went dry. The ship they’d taken was small – barely large enough for two people. Could she swim? She searched her memories and came up blank. She wasn’t sure. The wood of the boat’s side was warm beneath her hands; she gripped so hard that splinters drove beneath her nails.

The wave struck the boat, knocking it to the side.

She lost her grip on the wood. Cold seawater buffeted her, ran up her nostrils. All she could taste was salt and bitterness.

29

Lin

Hualin Or

Rain pounded on the deck above my cabin. I hadn’t taken much with me when we’d disembarked at Imperial, aware that we’d be leaving again. I’d locked both the door and shutters of my cabin, trusting my guards to keep my belongings safe. The sword was still there when I checked, and so were my books.