Read The Drowning City: The Necromancer Chronicles Book One for Free Online

afraid. Your father and Sungjin are visiting on the South Bank for a few days.”
    That was no surprise; her father and brother had started spending most of their time at Cay Laii when Fei Minh began her first
     term on the Khas thirteen years ago. Only propriety and habit kept him coming home at all, Zhirin suspected. And since her
     mother’s last term had ended a year ago, she knew how bored and restless Fei Minh had been.
    Zhirin’s brow creased as she eyed her mother’s hair, unbraided and held up loosely with sandalwood sticks. Absent servants,
     late visits…“Mother, are you having an affair?”
    Fei Minh blinked, then began to laugh. “Oh, darling. With Faraj? Wouldn’t that be a scandal?” She wiped delicately at one
     eye. “No, dear, I’m afraid not.”
    “What are you helping him with, then?”
    “Just business. He’s using some of our ships for a private investment.” She took Zhirin by the elbow and steered her toward
     the kitchen. Her perfume was still jasmine and citrus; the scent was as much home to Zhirin as the smell of the river. “You
     missed dinner, but I’ll make tea. And since you’re here, perhaps you can look at the fountain—it’s not flowing properly, and
     your father will rip it out and rearrange the whole garden if I give him half an excuse.”
    “You paid quite an apprentice-price for me to become a plumber.”
    Fei Minh snorted softly. “Think of it as part of your repayment—I want to see some return on my investment. Now, sit down
     and tell me about your lessons.”
    Zhirin woke to midnight bells, the bedside candle a puddle of cold wax in its bowl. She ran a hand over her face, knuckled
     gritty eyes. She’d only meant to lie down, but feather beds and the whisper of the canal had lulled her under. Jabbor had
     promised to meet her, after—
    The bells kept ringing and Zhirin’s stomach curdled. Not the solemn night bells after all, but brazen clashing chimes.
    An alarm.
    Let it be a coincidence
, she prayed as she groped for her clothes. Her mother met her in the hall, robe hastily tied and night-braids unraveling
     over her shoulders. “What is it?” they asked on the same heartbeat, and chuckled breathlessly.
    A few neighbors stood on their front steps, listening to the clamor. Blessedly distant—not Heronmark’s watchtower but one
     farther west. Merrowgate, perhaps.
    “What’s happened?” Fei Minh called to the next house.
    “We don’t know. There’ve been no criers yet.”
    Zhirin descended the steps to the canal, stones cool and slick beneath her feet. Water soaked her trousers as she knelt and
     laid a palm on the surface. One breath, then another, and her heart began to slow as the river’s rhythm filled her, deep and
     inexorable. She raised her hand, scattering ripples.
    And the lapping water showed her colors, red and gray, gold and orange, dancing and twisting against the black. It took her
     a heartbeat to make sense of the distorted reflection.
    Fire.
    “Something’s burning,” she said as she rose, scrubbing her wet hand on her trousers.
    “Ancestors,” her mother whispered. “Not the docks.”
    The Laiis had been a southern clan once, tenders of marshy rice fields. But these days their money came from the sea, from
     swift trading ships and goods piled in dockside warehouses.
    “I’m going to see what’s happened,” Zhirin said.
    “No—”
    “I’ll be careful, Mira.” She darted up the steps to kiss her mother’s cheek. Before Fei Minh could protest more, she unmoored
     the household skiff and pushed off.
    She whispered to the river and soon the current caught her, swifter and more graceful than she could have rowed. But even
     with the water’s help, she didn’t want to risk the skiff dockside. She moored at the far edge of Jadewater and ran the rest
     of the way.
    Her side ached by the time she reached Merrowgate’s warehouse district and her breath ripped her chest like gravel and broken
     shells. Her feet