The Dragon Republic Page 29

“Thanks, I got that,” Rin snapped.

She let the trident drop and bent over her knees, sucking in deep draughts of air. Her lungs were on fire. Where had her stamina gone? At Sinegard, she could have sparred for hours.

Right—up in a puff of opium smoke.

Eriden hadn’t even broken a sweat. She didn’t want to look weak by asking for another break, so she tried distracting him with questions. “How do you know so much about the Empress?”

“We fought by her side. The Dragon Province had some of the best-trained troops during the Second Poppy War. We were almost always with the Trifecta on the front lines.”

“What were the Trifecta like?”

“Brutal. Dangerous.” Eriden pointed his spear toward her. “Enough talk. You should—”

“But I have to know,” she insisted. “Did Daji fight on the battlefield? Did you see her? What was she like?”

“Daji’s not a warrior. She’s a competent martial artist, they all were, but she’s never relied on blunt force. Her powers are more subtle than the Gatekeeper’s or the Dragon Emperor’s were. She understands desire. She knows what drives men, and she takes their deepest desire and makes them believe that she is the only thing that can give it to them.”

“But I’m a woman.”

“All the same.”

“But that can’t make so much of a difference,” Rin said, more to convince herself than anything. “That’s just—that’s desire. What is that next to hard power?”

“You think fire and steel can trump desire? Daji was always the strongest of the Trifecta.”

“Stronger than the Dragon Emperor?” A memory resurfaced of a white-haired man floating above the ground, beastly shadows circling around him. “Stronger than the Gatekeeper?”

“Of course she was,” Eriden said softly. “Why do you think she’s the only one left?”

That gave Rin pause.

How had Daji become the sole ruler of Nikan? Everyone she’d asked told a different story. All that anyone in the Empire seemed to know for sure was that one day the Dragon Emperor died, the Gatekeeper disappeared, and Daji alone remained on the throne.

“Do you know what she did to them?” she asked.

“I’d give my arms to find out.” Eriden tossed his spear to the side and drew his sword. “Let’s see how you do with this.”

His blade moved blindingly fast. Rin staggered backward, trying desperately to keep up. Several times her trident nearly slipped out of her hands. She gritted her teeth, frustrated.

It wasn’t just that Altan’s trident was too long, too unbalanced, clearly designed for a taller stature than hers. If that were the problem, she would have just swallowed her pride and swapped it for a sword.

It was her body. She knew the right motions and patterns, but her muscles simply could not keep up. Her limbs seemed to obey her mind only after a two-second lag.

Simply put, she didn’t work. Months of lying prone in her room, breathing smoke in and out, had whittled her muscles away. Only now had she become aware of how weak, how painfully thin and easily tired she’d become.

“Focus.” Eriden closed in. Rin’s movements became increasingly desperate. She wasn’t even trying to get a blow in herself; it took all her concentration to keep his blade away from her face.

She couldn’t win a weapons match at this rate.

But she didn’t have to use her trident for the kill. The trident was only useful as a ranged weapon—it kept her opponents at a far enough distance to protect her.

But she need only to get close enough to use the fire.

She narrowed her eyes, waiting.

There it was. Eriden struck for her hilt—a low, reaching blow. She let him flip the weapon out of her hands. Then she took advantage of the opening, darted into the space created by their interlocking weapons, and jammed her knee into Eriden’s sternum.

He doubled over. She kicked in his knees, dropped down onto his chest, and splayed her palms out before his face.

She emitted the smallest hint of flame—just enough to make him feel the heat on his skin.

“Boom,” she said. “You’re dead now.”

Eriden’s mouth pressed into something that almost resembled a smile.

“How’s she doing?”

Rin twisted to look over her shoulder.

Vaisra and Nezha emerged on the deck. Eriden pulled himself to a sitting position.

“She’ll be ready,” he said.

“She’ll be ready?” Vaisra repeated.

“Give me a few days,” Rin said, panting. “Still figuring this out. But I’ll get there.”

“Good,” Vaisra said.

“You’re bleeding.” Nezha pointed to her thigh.

But she barely heard him. She was still looking at Vaisra, who was smiling more widely than she’d ever seen him. He looked pleased. Proud. And somehow, the jolt of satisfaction that gave her felt better than anything she’d smoked in months.

 

“You’ll accompany the Dragon Warlord into the Autumn Palace for the noon summit,” Eriden said. “Remember, you’ll be presented as a war criminal. Do not act like he is your ally. Make sure to look afraid.”

A dozen of Vaisra’s generals and advisers were in the stateroom, seated around an array of detailed maps of the palace. Rin sat on Vaisra’s right, sweating slightly from the constant attention. The entire plan centered on her, and she had no room to fail.

Eriden held up a pair of iron handcuffs. “You’ll be bound and muzzled. I’d get used to the feel of these.”

“That’s no good,” Rin said. “I can’t burn through metal.”

“They’re not completely metal.” Eriden slid the handcuffs across the table so that Rin could take a closer look. “The link in the middle is twine. It will burn through with minimal heat.”

She fiddled with the handcuffs. “And Daji won’t just have me killed? I mean—she’ll know what I’m there to do; she saw me try at Adlaga.”

“Oh, she’ll likely suspect us of treachery the moment we dock in Lusan. We’re not trying to ambush her. Daji likes to play with her food before she eats it. And she especially won’t want to get rid of you. You’re too interesting.”

“Daji never strikes first,” Vaisra said. “She’ll want to milk you for as much information as she can, so she’ll try to take you somewhere private to talk. Feign surprise at that. Then she’ll likely make an offer nearly as tempting as mine.”

“Which will be what?” Rin asked.

“Use your imagination. A place in her Imperial Guard. Free rein to scour the Empire of any remaining Federation troops. More glory and riches than you could possibly dream of. It’ll all be a lie, of course. Daji has kept her throne for two decades by eliminating people before they become problems. Should you take a position in her court, you will simply be the latest on her long list of political assassinations.”

“Or they’ll find your body in the sewers minutes after you say yes,” said Eriden.

Rin looked around the table. “Does no one else see the gaping flaw in this plan?”

“Pray tell,” Vaisra said.