“A pet project,” she repeated. “Your siblings just build massive boats for their pet projects.”
Nezha shook his head. “It was supposed to be finished in time for the northern campaign, whenever that gets off the ground. Now it’ll be much longer. They’ve changed the design to a defensive warship. It’s meant to guard Arlong now, not to lead the fleet.”
“Why is it behind schedule?”
“Fire broke out in the shipyard overnight. Some idiot on watch kicked his lamp over. Set construction back by months. They had to import the timber from the Dog Province. Father had to get pretty creative with that—it’s hard to ship in massive amounts of lumber and hide the fact that you’re building a fleet. Took a few weeks of dealing with Moag’s smugglers.”
Rin could see blackened edges on some of the skeleton’s outer boards. But the rest had been replaced with new timber, smoothed to a shine.
“The whole thing made a big stir in the city,” Nezha said. “Some people kept saying it was a sign from the gods that the rebellion would fail.”
“And Vaisra?”
“Father took it as a sign that he should go out and get himself a Speerly.”
Instead of taking a river sampan back to the military barracks, Nezha led her down the stairs to the base of the pier, where Rin could still hear the noise of the shipyard over the water rushing gently against the posts that kept the pier up. At first she thought they had walked into a dead end, until Nezha stepped from the glassy sand and right onto the river.
“What the hell?”
After a second she realized he was standing not on the water, but rather on a large circular flap that almost matched the river’s greenish-blue hue.
“Lily pads,” Nezha said before she could ask. Arms spread for balance, he shifted his weight just so as the waves lifted the lily pad under his feet.
“Show-off,” Rin said.
“You’ve never seen these before?”
“Yes, but only in wall scrolls.” She grimaced at the pads. Her balance wasn’t half as good as Nezha’s, and she wasn’t keen to fall into the river. “I didn’t know they grew so large.”
“They don’t usually. These will only last a month or two before they sink. They grow naturally in the freshwater ponds up the mountain, but our botanists found a way to militarize them. You’ll find them up and down the harbor. The better sailors don’t need rowboats to get to their ships; they can just run across the lily pads.”
“Calm down,” she said. “They’re just stepping stones.”
“They’re militarized lily pads. Isn’t that great?”
“I think you just like using the word ‘militarized.’”
Nezha opened his mouth to respond, but a voice from atop the pier cut him off.
“Had enough of playing tour guide?”
A man descended the steps toward them. He wore a blue soldier’s uniform, and the black stripes on his left arm marked him as a general.
Nezha hastily hopped off the lily pads onto the wet sand and sank to one knee. “Brother. Good to see you again.”
Rin realized in retrospect she should have knelt as well, but she was too busy staring at Nezha’s brother. Yin Jinzha. She had seen him once, briefly, three years back at her first Summer Festival in Sinegard. Back then she’d thought that Jinzha and Nezha could have been twins, but upon closer inspection, their similarities were not really so pronounced. Jinzha was taller, more thickly built, and he carried himself with the air of a firstborn—a son who knew he was heir to his father’s entire estate, while his younger siblings would be left to a fate of squabbling over the refuse.
“I heard you screwed up at the Autumn Palace.” Jinzha’s voice was deeper than Nezha’s. More arrogant, if that was possible. It sounded oddly familiar to Rin, but she couldn’t quite place it. “What happened?”
Nezha rose to his feet. “Hasn’t Captain Eriden briefed you?”
“Eriden didn’t see everything. Until Father recovers I’m the senior ranking general in Arlong, and I’d like to know the details.”
It’s Altan, Rin realized with a jolt. Jinzha spoke with a clipped, military precision that reminded her of Altan at his best. This was a man used to competence and immediate obedience.
“I don’t have anything to add,” Nezha said. “I was on the Seagrim.”
Jinzha’s lip curled. “Out of harm’s way. Typical.”
Rin expected Nezha to lash out at that, but he swallowed the barb with a nod. “How is Father?”
“Better now than last night. He’d been straining himself. Our physician didn’t understand how he was still alive at first.”
“But Father told me it was just a flesh wound.”
“Did you even get a good look at him? That blade went nearly all the way through his shoulder bone. He’s been lying to everyone. It’s a wonder he’s even conscious.”
“Has he asked for me?” Nezha asked.
“Why would he?” Jinzha gave his brother a patronizing look. “I’ll let you know when you’re needed.”
“Yes, sir.” Nezha dipped his head and nodded. Rin watched this exchange, fascinated. She’d never seen anyone who could bully Nezha the way Nezha tended to bully everyone else.
“You’re the Speerly.” Jinzha looked suddenly at Rin, as if he had just remembered she was there.
“Yes.” For some reason Rin’s voice came out strangled, girlish. She cleared her throat. “That’s me.”
“Go on, then,” Jinzha said. “Let’s see it.”
“What?”
“Show me what you can do,” Jinzha said very slowly, as if talking to a small child. “Make it big.”
Rin shot Nezha a confused look. “I don’t understand.”
“They say you can call fire,” Jinzha said.
“Well, yes—”
“How much? How hot? To what degree? Does it come from your body, or can you summon it from other places? What does it take for you to trigger a volcano?” Jinzha spoke at such a terribly fast clip that Rin had trouble deciphering his curt Sinegardian accent. She hadn’t struggled with that in years.
She blinked, feeling rather stupid, and when she spoke she stumbled over her words. “I mean, it just happens—”
“‘It just happens,’” he mimicked. “What, like a sneeze? What help is that? Explain to me how to use you.”
“I’m not someone for you to use.”
“Fancy that. The soldier won’t take orders.”
“Rin’s had a long journey,” Nezha cut in hastily. “I’m sure she’d be happy to demonstrate for you in the morning, when she’s had some rest . . .”
“Soldiers get tired, that’s part of the job,” Jinzha said. “Come on, Speerly. Show us what you’ve got.”
Nezha placed a placating hand on Rin’s arm. “Jinzha, really . . .”
Jinzha made a noise of disgust. “You should hear the way Father talks about them. Speerlies this, Speerlies that. I told him he’d be better off launching an invasion from Arlong, but no, he thought he could win a bloodless coup if he just had you. Look how that worked out.”