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

throbbed, likely bleeding, and she chided herself for not putting on shoes. A sullen orange glow lined the
     rooftops, and bells and voices rang loud and raucous.
    The crowd led her to the fire, and she skirted the edges till she could see. The street was mud-slick and cold despite the
     waves of heat. Rats and insects scurried for safety; Zhirin shuddered as a finger-long cockroach crawled over her foot. City
     guards surrounded the building, passing buckets down a line.
    It wasn’t enough. A canal ran behind the building, and a wide street in front, but only alleys separated it from its neighbors,
     narrow enough that even she could have jumped them. The wind off the bay was gentle, but enough to blow flames onto the next
     rooftop; already it had begun to smoke.
    The whole district could be gone by morning.
    The bucket lines moved faster, water glowing gold as it splashed the cobbles. Zhirin wanted to join them, but it was no use.
     She couldn’t call a flood. Not even the Mother’s temple could, since the river had been dammed. For all her tricks, she was
     useless against this.
    Gongs echoed from the waterfront, warning ships to lift anchor before the docks caught. That would take a while, at least,
     unless the wind shifted.
    Another section of roof collapsed with a groan and roar and a flurry of sparks rode the wind like orange fireflies. Someone
     screamed as flames burst through the gap. Mirrors dangling from nearby roofs threw back the firelight in angry flashes.
    A moment later she realized what the burning building had been. A government warehouse. She pressed a hand over her mouth
     and swallowed the taste of char.
Jabbor—
    She should run home, warn her mother since she was no use here, but she could only stare. Guards appeared on the neighboring
     warehouse’s roof, splashing wood and plaster and tiles in a futile bid to keep the flames at bay. A shout rose from the back
     of the crowd, and she scrambled to keep out of the press as the mass of people parted to admit a man.
    His face was a mask of flame and shadow, but Zhirin recognized the curve of his bare head. Her stomach tightened. She’d thought
     Asheris was sleeping at the Kurun Tam tonight; his rumpled clothes looked as though he’d only just woken. But he was here.
     He waved the guards away and kept walking, so close his skin must be crisping. If the building fell now it would crush him.
    Pain spread down Zhirin’s arm; she’d bitten her knuckle hard enough to break the skin.
    Asheris extended a hand toward the fire, palm up. Flames flickered toward him, though the wind didn’t change. Fire lapped
     his fingers like a curious hound, then twisted up his arm in a glowing spiral.
    Her vision blurred, tears welling against the smoke, and she watched through a crystalline glaze as Asheris called the fire
     into him. The blaze died in the warehouse as the flames ran like water away from wood and stone and into flesh. The last came
     in a rush, flaring around him like giant wings.
    Then it was gone.
    The rest of the roof fell in, billowing smoke and ash and sparks. But no more flames. The absence of light blinded her, and
     her eyes ached as they adjusted. The wind stung her face.
    Asheris swayed and fell to his knees, head sagging. Steam rose from his skin. Not even the guards approached him.
    Zhirin bit her lip; she might be useless, but she didn’t have to be a coward. But before she could move toward the fallen
     mage, a hand closed on her arm. She started, then recognized the dark fingers.
    She turned, his name on her lips, but Jabbor silenced her with a shake of his head and drew her away from the crowd. Down
     an alley she followed him, biting back questions as she dodged fleeing vermin. They ducked through a back door into a narrow
     lamplit kitchen. Temel and Kwan followed them in—Zhirin hadn’t seen them outside. Soot smeared both their faces, and blood
     dried in a dull crust along Temel’s brow.
    Kwan vanished into the front of the