The Drowned Cities Read Online Free PDF

asked. “Is that why Tani’s dead? Because you got no hand?”
    “Wasn’t my fault she got herself pregnant.”
    “No. But she didn’t need a useless crippled China girl for a nurse.”
    Mahlia bristled. “I ain’t Chinese.”
    Amaya just looked at her.
    “I ain’t,” Mahlia repeated.
    “You got the blood right there on your face. China castoff, through and through.” She turned away, then stopped. Looked back at Mahlia.
    “The thing I keep wondering about is what was wrong with you, girl? How come the peacekeepers didn’t want you? If the peacekeepers didn’t care enough to take you when they went back to China, why in the name of the Fates would we want you, either?”
    Mahlia fought to keep down the anger that was starting to bubble in her. “Well, this one ain’t Chinese, and it ain’t castoff. It’s Banyan Town’s. You want it? Or am I telling the doctor you dumped it?”
    Amaya looked at Mahlia like she was a sack of goat guts, but she finally took the infant.
    As soon as the baby was in Amaya’s hands, Mahlia pressed close. Right in Amaya’s face, as eye to eye as she could make it with a grown woman. Mahlia was a little surprised to find that she almost had the height. Amayabacked up against the ladder of the squat, clutching the baby as Mahlia pushed closer.
    “You call me castoff,” Mahlia said, “Chinese throwaway, whatever.” Amaya was trying to look away, but Mahlia had her pinned, kept her eye to eye. “My old man might have been peacekeeper, but my mom was pure Drowned Cities. You want to war like that, I’m all in.” Mahlia lifted the scarred stump of her right hand, shoved it up in Amaya’s face. “Maybe I cut you the way the Army of God cut me. See how you do with just a lucky left. How’d you like that?”
    Amaya’s eyes filled with horror. For a second, Mahlia had the satisfaction of at least getting respect.
Yeah. You see me now, all right. Before I was just another castoff, but you see me now.
    “Mahlia! What are you doing?”
    It was Doctor Mahfouz, hurrying toward them. Mahlia backed off. “Nothing,” she said, but Doctor Mahfouz was staring at her with dismay, as if she were some kind of animal gone wild.
    “What’s going on here, Mahlia?”
    Mahlia scowled. “She called me Chinese.”
    Mahfouz threw up his hands. “You
are
Chinese! There’s no shame in that!”
    Amaya broke in. “She threatened me!” she said. “That
animal
threatened me.” She was furious now that she had backup from Doctor Mahfouz. Angry that she’d beenscared by a castoff war maggot. Mahlia braced for the tongue-lashing, but before Amaya could get going, the doctor took Mahlia’s shoulder.
    “Go home, Mahlia,” he said.
    To Mahlia’s surprise, he wasn’t mean when he said it, or mad. Just… tired. “Go see if you can find Mouse,” he said. “We’ll need to gather extra food to help Amaya with this new child.”
    Mahlia hesitated, but there was no point sticking around. “Sorry,” she said, not sure if she was saying it to the doctor, or Amaya, or herself, or who. “Sorry,” she said again, and turned away.
    Mahfouz was always telling her to stand down, to let the insults roll off, and here she was, picking fights she didn’t have to. She could practically hear his voice in her head as she plodded back toward the doctor’s squat and her friend Mouse: “A harmless war orphan is something they may not love, but still, they can empathize. But if you seem violent, they’ll see you the same way they see coywolv.”
    Which meant they’d leave her alone as long as she looked soft. But if she stood up, they’d put her down right quick.
    Sun Tzu said that you had to pick your battles and fight only when you knew what victory was supposed to look like. Victory came to people who knew when to attack and when to avoid, and now Mahlia suspected that she’d just done something stupid. She’d let the enemy goad her into exposing herself.
    Her father would have laughed at that. A