The Burning God (The Poppy War #3) - R.F. Kuang Page 0,102

troops out past the blockade, send a sentry ahead and then rendezvous with the Dog Warlord—”

“It’s a bad guest that shows up unannounced,” Daji said.

“Not if a third guest is holding a knife to the host’s throat,” Rin said.

“This analogy has lost me,” Jiang said.

“It’s not the worst idea,” Kitay said. “Nezha was convinced that Souji and Gurubai intended to send to Dog Province for help. So it’s the predictable option, but it’s also our only option left. We need allies where we can get them. Divided, we’re carrion.”

Rin frowned at him. Something sounded off about Kitay’s tone, though she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. He didn’t sound as sharp and engaged as he usually did at strategy councils. Instead, the words came out in a flat monotone, as if he were half-heartedly reciting a memorized test answer.

What had happened to him in Arabak? He hadn’t been physically tortured, but he’d been alone with Nezha for weeks. Had he turned against her? Was he only pretending to be their ally now? The possibility made her shudder.

But Kitay couldn’t conceal a lie like that. Their souls were bound. She’d feel it. At least, she hoped she’d feel it.

Why, then, was he speaking like a man who had already lost?

“Dog Province, then. Interesting.” Jiang turned to Daji. “What do you say? The route to their capital takes us close to the Tianshan range, and it’d be nice to have ground cover for at least part of it.”

“Fine.” Daji shrugged. “But I don’t see why we need the Southern Coalition for that.”

“It’s thousands of warm bodies.”

“Thousands we have to drag along through the mountains. What’s more, they sold her out.” Daji jerked her chin toward Rin. “They deserve to be left behind.”

“That’s the leadership’s fault. The masses are malleable, you know that.”

“It’ll be messy.”

“I’ve just escaped from the stone mountain. Let me stretch a little, dear. Get some exercise. It’s good for the mind.”

“Fair enough.” Daji sighed. “Dog Province it is.”

“I’m sorry.” Kitay looked between them. “Did I miss something?”

Rin shared his confusion. The exchange between Daji and Jiang had passed so quickly that she’d barely followed what was happening. The two often spoke in a shorthand peppered with allusions to their shared past, a code that had made Rin feel constantly like an outsider on their journey to Arabak. It was a regular reminder that no matter how much power she wielded, the Trifecta had decades of history behind them that she knew only as stories. They’d seen so much more. Done so much more.

“It’s decided,” Daji said. “We’ll go get your army and take them north. Agreed?”

Kitay looked baffled. “But—what about the blockade?”

Jiang stretched his arms over his head, yawning. “Oh, we’ll break them out.”

Kitay blinked at him. “But how are you going to do that?”

Daji chuckled. Jiang gave him a bemused look, as if surprised that Kitay had even asked.

“I’m the Gatekeeper,” he said simply, as if that fact were answer enough.

The night was comfortably warm, so they doused the campfire after they’d eaten and slept on the wagon in shifts. Kitay volunteered to take first watch. Rin hadn’t rested since sunrise—she was bone-tired, temples still throbbing from the sensory shock of the New City—but she put off sleep for several minutes so she could sit beside him. She wanted these few minutes with him alone.

“I’m glad you’re here,” she said. Shallow words and a shallow sentiment that didn’t come close to expressing how she felt.

But Kitay just nodded. He understood.

She felt a spark of warmth from every point of contact between them—her hand lying against his, his arm curved around her waist, her head nestled between his chin and shoulder. She craved the feeling of his skin against hers. Every touch was a reassurance that he was real, he was alive, and he was here.

She shifted against him. “What’s on your mind?”

“Nothing.” He still spoke in that flat, wan tone. “I’m just tired.”

“Don’t lie to me.” She wanted everything laid out in the open. She couldn’t stand another moment of Kitay’s strange resignation; she couldn’t bear thinking there was a part of him that she didn’t understand. “What’s bothering you?”

He was silent for a long moment before he spoke. “It’s just . . . I don’t know, Rin. Arabak was—”

“It’s awful.”

“It’s not necessarily awful, it’s just strange. And I was there for so long, and now I’m out, I still can’t stop thinking about the Hesperians.”

“What about them?”

“I don’t know, I just . . .” His fingers