“It’s beautiful,” he said. “A land utterly without Chaos; without pain, disease, or suffering. It is the kingdom of perfect order that we spend our lives trying to re-create on this earth.”
Rin saw the joyful hope beaming out of Augus’s face as he spoke, and she knew that he believed every word he was saying.
She was starting to see why the Hesperians clung so fervently to their religion. No wonder they had won converts over so easily during occupation. What a relief it would be to know that at the end of this life there was a better one, that perhaps upon death you might enjoy the comforts you had always been denied instead of fading away from an indifferent universe. What a relief to know that the world was supposed to make sense, and that if it didn’t, you would one day be justly compensated.
A line of captains and generals stood before the burning pyre. Nezha was at the end, leaning heavily on a walking stick. It was the first time Rin had seen him in two days.
But when she approached him, he turned to walk away. She called out his name. He ignored her. She dashed forward—he couldn’t outrun her, not with his walking stick—and grabbed his wrist.
“Stop running away,” she said.
“I’m not running,” he said stiffly.
“Then talk to me. Tell me what I saw on the river.”
Nezha’s eyes darted around at the soldiers standing within earshot. He lowered his voice. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t lie to me. I saw what you did. You’re a shaman!”
“Rin, shut up.”
She didn’t let go of his wrist. “You moved the water at will. I know it was you.”
He narrowed his eyes. “You didn’t see anything, and you won’t tell anyone anything—”
“Your secret is safe from Petra, if that’s what you’re asking,” she said. “But I don’t understand why you’re lying to me.”
Without responding, Nezha turned and limped briskly away from the pyres. She followed him to a spot behind the charred hull of a transport skimmer. The questions poured out of her in an unstoppable torrent. “Did they teach you at Sinegard? Does Jun know? Is anyone else in your family a shaman?”
“Rin, stop—”
“Jinzha doesn’t know, I figured that out. What about your mother? Vaisra? Did he teach you?”
“I am not a shaman!” he shouted.
She didn’t flinch. “I’m not stupid. I know what I saw.”
“Then draw your own conclusions and stop asking questions.”
“Why are you hiding this?”
He looked pained. “Because I don’t want it.”
“You can control the water! You could single-handedly win us this war!”
“It’s not that easy, I can’t just—” He shook his head. “You saw what happened. It wants to take over.”
“Of course it does. What do you think we all go through? So you control it. You get practice at reining it in, you shape it to your own will—”
“Like you can?” he sneered. “You’re the equivalent of a spiritual eunuch.”
He was trying to throw her off, but she didn’t let that distract her. “And I would kill to have the fire back. It’s difficult, I know, the gods aren’t kind—but you can control them! I can help you.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about, shut up—”
“Unless you’re just scared, which is no excuse, because men are dying while you’re sitting here indulging in your own self-pity—”
“I said shut up!”
His hand went into the skimmer’s hull, an inch from her head. She didn’t flinch. She turned her head slowly, trying to pretend her heart wasn’t slamming against her chest.
“You missed,” she said calmly.
Nezha pulled his hand away from the hull. Blood trickled down his knuckles from four crimson dots.
She should have been afraid, but when she searched his face, she couldn’t find a shred of anger. Just fear.
She had no respect for fear.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said.
“Oh, trust me.” Her lip curled. “You couldn’t.”
Chapter 20
“A puzzle for you,” said Kitay. “The water erupts around the ships, blows holes in the sides like cannonballs, and yet we never see a hint of an explosion above the water. How does the Militia do this?”
“I assume you’re about to tell me,” Rin said.
“Come on, Rin, just play along.”
She fiddled with the shrapnel fragments strewn across his worktable. “Could have been archers aiming at the base. They could have fixed rockets on the front ends of their arrows?”
“But why would they do that? The deck’s more vulnerable than the hull. And we would have seen them in the air if they were alight, which they’d have to be to explode on impact.”
“Maybe they found out a way to hide the heat glow,” she said.
“Maybe,” he said. “But then why the chain reaction? Why start with the skimmers, instead of aiming directly at the Kingfisher or the tower ships?”
“I don’t know. Scare tactics?”
“That’s stupid,” he said dismissively. “Here’s a hint: The explosives were in the water to begin with. That’s why we never saw them. They really were underwater.”
She sighed. “And how would they have managed that, Kitay? Why don’t you just tell me the answer?”
“Animal intestines,” he said happily. He pulled out a rather disgusting translucent tube from under the table, inside of which he’d threaded a thin fuse. “They’re completely waterproof. I’m guessing they used cow intestines, since they’re longer, but any animal would do, really, because it just has to keep the fuse dry enough to let it burn down. Then they rig up the interior so that slow-burning coils light the fuse on impact. Cool, eh?”
“Sort of like the pig stomachs.”
“Sort of. But those were designed to erode over time. Depending on how slow the coils burn, these could keep a fuse dry for days if they were sealed well enough.”
“That’s incredible.” Rin stared at the intestines, considering the implications. The mines were ingenious. The Militia could win riverine battles without even being present, as long as they could guarantee that the Republican Fleet would travel over a given stretch of water.
When had the Militia developed this technology?
And if they had this capability, were any of the river routes safe?
The door slammed open. Jinzha strode in unannounced, holding a rolled-up scroll in one hand. Nezha followed in his wake, still limping on his walking stick. He refused to meet Rin’s eye.
“Hello, sir.” Kitay cheerfully waved a cow intestine at him. “I’ve solved your problem.”
Jinzha looked repulsed. “What is that?”
“Water mines. It’s how they blew up the fleet.” Kitay offered the intestine up to Jinzha for inspection.
Jinzha wrinkled his nose. “I’ll trust your word for it. Did you figure out how to deactivate them?”