BooksBarbecue
Back The Bone Shard Emperor Save as PDF
Chapters (68)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. Map
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. 13
  17. 14
  18. 15
  19. 16
  20. 17
  21. 18
  22. 19
  23. 20
  24. 21
  25. 22
  26. 23
  27. 24
  28. 25
  29. 26
  30. 27
  31. 28
  32. 29
  33. 30
  34. 31
  35. 32
  36. 33
  37. 34
  38. 35
  39. 36
  40. 37
  41. 38
  42. 39
  43. 40
  44. 41
  45. 42
  46. 43
  47. 44
  48. 45
  49. 46
  50. 47
  51. 48
  52. 49
  53. 50
  54. 51
  55. 52
  56. 53
  57. 54
  58. 55
  59. 56
  60. 57
  61. Acknowledgements
  62. Discover More
  63. extras
  64. meet the author
  65. A Preview of "The Foxglove King"
  66. A Preview of "The Stardust Thief"
  67. BY ANDREA STEWART
  68. Praise for Andrea Stewart

His jaw clenched but he finally inclined his head. A nearby lamp caught the drizzle of rain around his head, haloing him in glittering gold. “Fair enough. But I don’t know if that will be good enough for everyone else. They’ve been through a lot – children dying from the Tithing Festival, loved ones dying from shard sickness. They’ll want it all dismantled.”

“I’ll do my best. That’s all I can promise.”

Jovis stopped in the middle of the street, his gaze going skyward.

“What?” I followed his gaze. “Is the construct back?”

“No,” he said. “There’s something I should tell you, because this concerns you too.”

I’d passed his test, whatever it had been. I waited.

“When I fought the four-armed construct on the palace steps, something happened. Something new. Or, well, I did something new.” He grimaced.

“Which was…?”

“That thrum you feel in your bones. It has more than one purpose. That is to say, it can be used to do more than just make the earth shake.”

The night was warm, but my shoes were damp and smelled like garbage. Tendrils of hair stuck to the back of my neck, rain trickling past my collarbone and beneath my shirt. I wanted to dry off, to crawl into bed, to snuggle up with Thrana and sleep. “Were you going to tell me or did you want to stand out in the rain all night?”

He threw up his hands. “This is me being honest with you. Completely honest. Look.” His expression shifted into one of concentration.

I waited. “What am I looking at?” And then I saw it. The rain around us halted mid-air and then began to move again – not falling toward the street, but swirling, coalescing.

Jovis lifted a hand, gathering a ball of water above his fingertips. He didn’t spare a glance for me, his eyes focused on the water. “Does this remind you of anything?” he asked, his face grim.

I thought of the paintings of Arrimus, defending her island from Mephisolou. I thought of the tales of Dione, who could drown a city with a wave of his hand.

He let the water fall to the street. It splashed, droplets hitting my ankles. I barely felt them as I met his gaze.

“Alanga,” I whispered.

4

image

Lin

Imperial Island

We’d returned to the palace last night to find the eyes on the mural open, staring down at us as though identifying us with their gazes. The sight had brought a fresh chill to the back of my neck. Was Jovis one of the Alanga? And if he was, did that mean I was too?