I wanted to ask, “Is he dead?” but Ikanuy would have said if his daughter had killed him. Sent away, perhaps, or just relegated to smaller rooms in the palace. I shrugged off the uncomfortable parallels to my situation. “Then it makes even more sense to visit them. We can check in on the situation while we’re there and make sure Imperial’s shipment is still coming. The last item?”

Ikanuy unfolded the letter. “An envoy from Hirona’s Net. She visited several isles there and noticed a disturbing pattern.” Her gaze flicked up to Jovis again before settling back on me.

“More construct attacks?”

“No.” She handed me the letter. “Artifacts on the isles. Alanga artifacts. They’re awakening.”

11

Ranami

Nephilanu Island

She should have known the girl was stealing something. Ranami had lived the life of a gutter orphan; you never collided with someone by accident. But life in a palace had apparently made her reflexes slow.

Phalue darted after the girl.

Ranami acted on instinct, ducking into an alley. She knew these streets the way she knew every callus on Phalue’s hands. The street stalls would slow them both, but there was a clear path around the main street just behind this building. She leapt down a set of crumbling stairs, ducked beneath an overhang hung too low and lifted a lever on a gate, opening it just enough to slip past.

Someone from a window above shouted at her – she wasn’t supposed to be back here – but she paid them no heed. She’d be gone by the time they tried to confront her. Her feet nearly slid from beneath her as she rounded the corner, the street made slippery with rain. She caught herself on the wall, using the drainpipe to help propel her forward.

The street opened up ahead of her and Ranami stepped out just in front of the gutter orphan. The girl skidded to a halt, her eyes darting from side to side, searching for an escape. Ranami kept her knees bent, her feet light.

She needn’t have bothered. Phalue stormed up from behind the girl, faster than her broad-shouldered form would suggest, and seized her by the shoulder.

It was like watching a fish realize it had been hooked. The girl flailed, flopping back and forth, trying to shake loose. Phalue’s grip was intractable, her fingers like claws. A few people glanced over, but swiftly returned to their business.

“I’d like that back now,” Phalue said, her hand outstretched for the pouch.

The orphan pulled a few more times and then stopped, her breath heaving in her chest. Phalue wiggled her fingers and the girl held out the pouch. Before she could place it in Phalue’s fingers, the girl went limp.

Ranami rushed forward to help, kneeling to pick the pouch up from the ground.

“I think she passed out,” Phalue said, her hands beneath the girl’s arms.