“Do as you like,” Vaisra said. “But have an answer for me by dawn.”

“Or what?” she asked.

“Or you’ll have to find your own way back to shore,” he said. “And it’s a long swim.”

“Just to clarify, the Dragon Warlord does not want to kill us?” Ramsa asked.

“No,” said Rin. “He wants us in his army.”

He wrinkled his nose. “But why? The Federation’s gone.”

“Exactly that. He thinks it’s his opportunity to overthrow the Empire.”

“That’s actually clever,” Baji said. “Think about it. Rob the house while it’s on fire, or however the saying goes.”

“I don’t think that’s a real saying,” Ramsa said.

“It’s a little more noble than that,” said Rin. “He wants to build a republic instead. Overthrow the Warlord system. Construct a parliament, appoint elected officials, restructure how governance works across the Empire.”

Baji chuckled. “Democracy? Really?”

“It’s worked for the Hesperians,” said Qara.

“Has it?” Baji asked. “Hasn’t the western continent been at war for the past decade?”

“The question isn’t whether democracy could work,” Rin said. “That doesn’t matter. The question is whether we enlist.”

“This could be a trap,” Ramsa pointed out. “He could be bringing you to Daji.”

“He could have just killed us when we were drugged, then. We’re dangerous passengers to have on board. It wouldn’t be worth the risk unless Vaisra really did think he could convince us to join him.”

“So?” Ramsa asked. “Can he convince us?”

“I don’t know,” Rin admitted. “Maybe.”

The more she thought about it, the more it seemed like a good idea. She wanted Vaisra’s ships. His weapons, his soldiers, his power.

But if things went south, if Vaisra hurt the Cike, then this fell on her shoulders. And she couldn’t let the Cike down again.

“There’s still a benefit to going it on our own,” said Baji. “Means we don’t have to take orders.”

Rin shook her head. “We’re still six people. You can’t assassinate a head of state with six people.”

Never mind that she’d been perfectly willing to try just a few hours ago.

“And what if he betrays us?” Aratsha asked.

Baji shrugged. “We could always just cut our losses and defect. Run back to Ankhiluun.”

“We can’t run back to Ankhiluun,” Rin said.

“Why not?”

She told them about Moag’s ploy. “She’d have sold us to Daji if Vaisra hadn’t offered her something better. He sank our ship because he wanted her to think that we’d died.”

“So it’s Vaisra or nothing,” Ramsa said. “That’s just fantastic.”

“Is this Yin Vaisra really so bad?” Suni asked. “He’s just one man.”

“That’s true,” said Baji. “He can’t be any scarier than the other Warlords. The Ox and Ram Warlords weren’t anything special. It’s nepotism and inbreeding all around.”

“Oh, so like how you were produced,” said Ramsa.

“Listen, you little bitch—”

“Join them,” Chaghan said. His voice was hardly louder than a whisper, but the cabin fell silent. It was the first time he had spoken all evening.

“You’re debating this like you get to decide,” he said. “You don’t. You really think Vaisra’s going to let you go if you say no? He’s too smart for that. He’s just told you his intentions to commit treason. He’ll have you killed if there’s even the slightest risk you’d go to anyone else.” He gave Rin a grim look. “Face it, Speerly. It’s join up or die.”

“You’re gloating,” Rin accused.

“I would never,” said Nezha. He’d been beaming the entire way down the passageway, showing her around the warship like some ebullient tour guide. “But glad to have you on board.”

“Shut up.”

“Can’t I be happy? I’ve missed you.” Nezha stopped before a room on the first deck. “After you.”

“What’s this?”

“Your new quarters.” He opened the door for her. “Look, it locks from the inside four different ways. Thought you’d like that.”

She did like it. The room was twice as large as her quarters on her old ship, and the bed was a proper bed, not a cot with lice-ridden sheets. She stepped inside. “I have this all to myself?”

“I told you.” Nezha sounded smug. “The Dragon Army has its benefits.”

“Ah, that’s what you call yourselves?”

“Technically it’s the Army of the Republic. Nonprovincial, and all that.”

“You’d need allies for that.”

“We’re working on it.”

She turned toward the porthole. Even in the darkness she could see how fast the Seagrim was moving, slicing through black waves at speeds faster than Aratsha had ever been capable of. By morning Moag and her fleet would be dozens of miles behind them.

But Rin couldn’t leave Ankhiluun like this. Not yet. She had one more thing to retrieve.

“You said Moag thinks we’re dead?” she asked.

“I’d be surprised if she didn’t. We even tossed some charred corpses in the water.”

“Whose bodies?”

Nezha stretched his arms over his head. “Does it matter?”

“I suppose not.” The sun had just set over the water. Soon the Ankhiluuni pirate patrol would begin to make its rounds around the coast. “Do you have a smaller boat? One that can sneak past Moag’s ships?”

“Of course,” he scoffed. “Why, do you need to go back?”

“I don’t,” she said. “But you’ve forgotten someone.”

By all accounts Kitay’s audience with Vaisra was an unmitigated disaster. Captain Eriden wouldn’t let Rin onto the second deck, so she was unable to eavesdrop, but about an hour after they brought Kitay on board, she saw Nezha and two soldiers dragging him to the lower level. She ran down the passageway to catch up.

“—and I don’t care if you’re pissed, you can’t throw food at the Dragon Warlord,” said Nezha.

Kitay’s face was purple with anger. If he was at all relieved to see Nezha alive, he didn’t show it. “Your men tried to blow up my house!”

“They tend to do that,” Rin said.

“We had to make it look like you’d died,” Nezha said.

“I was still in it!” Kitay cried. “And so were my ledgers!”

Nezha looked amazed. “Who gives a shit about your ledgers?”

“I was doing the city’s taxes.”

“What?”

Kitay stuck his lower lip out. “And I was almost done.”

“What the fuck?” Nezha blinked. “I don’t—Rin, you talk some sense into this idiot.”