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Reklam
At War
“Ah,” Riga said. “Here we are.”
The memories paused. She found herself bent over the floor, panting,
drool dripping from her mouth.
“Look at me,” Riga said again, and this time she wearily obeyed.
There was no fight left in her. She just wanted this over. If she just did
what he said, would it be over?
“Is this what you wanted to see?” Riga inquired.
His face morphed into Altan’s. He grinned.
And then, at last, Rin understood what Daji had meant when she said that
Riga’s power lay in fear.
He didn’t just terrorize with brute force. He terrorized with pure,
overwhelming power. He’d probed her memory for the one person she’d
once thought so intimidatingly strong that she couldn’t help but obey—no,
longed to obey, because fear and love were really just opposite sides of the
same coin.
She saw now what bound Jiang and Daji to Riga. It was the same reason
she’d once been drawn to Altan. With Altan, it had always been so easy.
She never had to think. He raged and she followed, blind and
unquestioning, because marveling at his purpose was simpler than coming
up with one of her own. He’d terrified her. She would have died for him.
“Altan Trengsin,” Riga mused. “I remember the name. Hanelai’s nephew,
wasn’t he, Ziya? Pride of the island?”
New images invaded her mind.
She saw waves crashing against a jagged shore. She saw a boy wading
through the shallows. He was very young, no more than four or five. He
stood alone on the beach, trident in his hand, his dark eyes narrowed in
concentration as he watched the waves. His inky-black hair fell in soft curls
around sun-bronzed cheeks, and his face was tight with a mature, intense
focus that belonged to someone much older. Slowly, without glancing away
from the water, he lifted the trident over his shoulder in a practiced stance
Rin
Don't make a promise you won't keep
“We gave the Nikara the keys to the heavens, and they stole our land and
murdered my daughter.” The Sorqan Sira’s voice was flat, emotionless, as if
she were merely recounting an interesting anecdote, as if her pain had
already been processed so many times she could not feel it anymore.
Rin bent over on her hands and knees, gasping. She couldn’t scrub the
image of Jiang from her mind. Jiang, her master, cackling with his hands
covered with blood.
“Surprised?” asked the Sorqan Sira.
“But I knew him,” Rin whispered. “I know what he’s like, he’s not like
that . . .”
“How would you know what the Gatekeeper is like?” The Sorqan Sira
sneered. “Have you ever asked him about his past? Did you have any idea?”
The worst part was that it all made sense—the truth had dawned on Rin,
awful and bitter, and the mystery of Jiang was clear to her now; she knew
why he’d fled, why he’d hidden in the Chuluu Korikh.
He must have been starting to remember.
The man she had met at Sinegard had been no more than a shade of a
person; a pathetic, affable shade of a personality suppressed. He had not
been pretending. She was certain of that. No one could pretend that well.
He had simply not known. The Seal had stolen his memories, just like it
would one day steal hers, and hidden them behind a wall in his mind.
Was it better now that he remained in his stone prison, suspended
halfway between amnesia and sanity?
“You see now. You’ll understand if we’d rather put an end to you.” The
Sorqan Sira nodded to Bekter.
Her unspoken command rang clear in Rin’s mind. Kill them.
“Wait!” Rin struggled to her feet. “Please—you don’t have to—”
“I don’t entertain begging, girl.”
“I’m not begging, I’m bartering,” Rin said quickly. “We have the same
enemy. You want Daji dead. You want revenge. Yes? So do I. Kill
Don't blame her for what you made her DO
A foreigner in charge of the Empire’s most lethal division? Not
likely.” Chaghan folded his arms across his chest. “No, Altan named his
successor before we left for Golyn Niis.”
Rin jerked her head up. That was news. “Who?”
Chaghan looked like he couldn’t believe she had asked.
“It’s you,” he said, as if it were obvious.
Rin felt like he had punched her in the solar plexus.
Altan had named her as his successor. Entrusted his legacy to her. He
had written and signed the order in blood before they had even left
Khurdalain.
“I am the commander of the Cike,” she said, and then had to repeat the
words to herself before their meaning sank in. She held a status
equivalent to the generals of the Warlords. She had the power to order
the Cike to do as she wished. “I command the Cike.”
Chaghan looked sideways at her. His expression was grim. “You are
going to paint the world in Altan’s blood, aren’t you?”
“I’m going to find and kill everyone responsible,” said Rin. “You
cannot stop me.”
Chaghan laughed a dry, cutting laugh. “Oh, I’m not going to stop
you.”
He held out his hand.
She grasped it, and the drowned land and the ash-choked sky bore
witness to the pact between Seer and Speerly.
They had come to an understanding, she and Chaghan. They were no
longer opposed, vying for Altan’s favor. They were allies, now, bound by
the mutual atrocities they had committed.
They had a god to kill. A world to reshape. An Empress to overthrow.
They were bound by the blood they had spilled. They were bound by
their suffering. They were bound by what had happened to them.
No.
no
“Look.” He pointed. “Do you see that star? That’s the constellation of
the Phoenix.”
She raised her head.
“Take it as your guide,” he said. “Speer is southeast of here. It’ll be a
long swim.”
“What are you talking about?” she demanded. “We’ll swim together.
You’ll guide me.”
His hand closed around her fingers. He held them tight for a moment
and then let go.
“No,” he said. “I’ll finish my duty.”
Panic twisted her insides.
“Altan, no.”
She couldn’t stop the onslaught of hot tears, but Altan wasn’t looking
at her. He was gazing out at the assembled army.
“Tearza didn’t save our people,” he said. “I couldn’t save our people.
But this comes close.”
“Altan, please . . .”
“It will be harder for you,” Altan said. “You’ll have to live with the
consequences. But you’re brave . . . you’re the bravest person I’ve ever
met.”
“Don’t leave me,” she begged.
He leaned forward and grasped her face in both hands.
She thought for a bizarre moment that he was going to kiss her.
He didn’t. He pressed his forehead against hers for a long time.
She closed her eyes. She drank in the sensation of her skin against his.
She seared it into her memory.
“You’re so much stronger than I am,” said Altan. Then he let her go.
She shook her head frantically. “No, I’m not, it’s you, I need you—”
“Someone’s got to destroy that research facility, Rin.”
He stepped away from her. Arms stretched forward, he walked toward
Reklam
Reklam