The Art of Prophecy by Wesley Chu

Author:Wesley Chu [Chu, Wesley]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Random House Worlds
Published: 2022-08-09T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

RIPPLES

Sanba. Had. Lifts.

Taishi gawked as the chains clanged up and down the walls, lowering the wooden platform to the next level. Her blood boiled. Where were the signposts directing her here? Why hadn’t anyone bothered to tell her this before she had walked up and down all those stairs? She should have realized in hindsight that of course Sanba would have lifts. This was a mining colony with probably dozens of deep shafts converted for public use. Her carriage had arrived in one at the main entrance, for Tiandi’s sake. She had just been so preoccupied with finding a meal that she had forgotten such things existed, bless her weary feet.

Taishi felt a sharp pain shoot up her spine as she shifted her weight. Her weary back and neck as well. That shadowkill cell attack had been too close for comfort. Their leader was certainly skilled, and Taishi considered herself fortunate to have escaped unharmed. The winds screaming through the gorge were so strong she couldn’t tame the currents. It was sheer luck and desperate adjustments that had crashed her through a window instead of, say, a stone wall or the side of a cliff.

Taishi had limped away from where she had crashed as soon as she could stand and spent the night in a wicker basket inside a grain warehouse. She hadn’t dared leave her hiding place until late into the morning. Shadowkills mostly operated at night. The darkness was when their jing was strongest. While that mattered less in an underground city, shadowkills still needed sleep like everyone else, and usually did that during the day. This gave Taishi a window to finish her tasks and leave the city.

She moved past the public lift and into the tunnels toward the mapmaker’s shop. The shifting map should have been ready hours ago, and with luck Taishi would be crossing the Sand Snake toward Fulkan Forest before nightfall.

That was a big if. If Chown hadn’t panicked when she hadn’t come on time and changed his mind. If Taishi could actually hire a caravan. If those caravan bosses weren’t at the trading post again. Most important, if the shadowkills weren’t already lying in wait. Perhaps having engaged the local magistrates, or the criminal underworld, or both. For all she knew, the entire city was already hunting her.

Smoke wafted to her nostrils and scratched her eyes as Taishi ventured deeper into the tunnels. She didn’t think much of it. The ventilation in some parts of the city was noticeably poor. Someone had probably gotten a little too enthusiastic brewing tea this morning. Taishi grimaced as she neared the entrance to Chown’s shop. It was becoming more obvious with each step where that enthusiasm was concentrated. Hand on the Swallow Dances’ hilt, she flattened herself against a wall and crept toward the entrance. The smells of burnt wood and tar were overwhelming.

Taishi stopped at the entrance to Wu Chown’s shop, feeling suddenly deflated. “You careless old fool. You should have waited with the map.

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