The Burning God (The Poppy War #3) - R.F. Kuang Page 0,124

trying to tell her something. There was a hidden truth here, something awful and terrible, but she didn’t want to know. She just wanted to run away and cry.

“Altan,” Jiang said suddenly.

Rin froze, crouched halfway between sitting down and standing up.

“I’m sorry.” Jiang stared her in the eyes; he was addressing her. “I’m so sorry. I could have protected you. But they—”

“Stop.” Rin shook her head. “Please, Master, stop—”

“You don’t understand.” Jiang reached out for her wrist. “They hurt me and they said they’d hurt you worse so I had to let you go, don’t you understand—”

“Shut up!” Rin screamed.

Jiang recoiled as if she had hit him. His entire body started to shake so hard she was afraid he might actually shatter like a porcelain vase, but then, abruptly, he went still. He wasn’t breathing; his chest did not rise or fall. For a long time he sat with his head bent and his eyes closed. When at last he opened them, they were a bright, terrible white.

“You should not be here.”

Rin didn’t know who was speaking through his mouth, but that wasn’t Jiang.

Then he smiled, and it was the most horrible sight she’d ever seen.

“Don’t you know better?” he asked. “He wants you all dead.”

He rose and advanced toward her. She scrambled to her feet and took a single, trembling step backward. Run, whispered a small voice in her mind. Run, you idiot. But she couldn’t move, couldn’t take her eyes off his face. She was rooted in place, simultaneously terrified and fascinated.

“Riga’s going to kill you when he finds you.” He laughed again, a high and unnerving sound. “Because of Hanelai. Because of what Hanelai did. He’ll kill you all.”

He gripped her by the shoulders and shook her hard. Rin felt an icy chill as she realized for the first time that she wasn’t safe here, physically was not safe, because she had no idea what Jiang could or would do to her.

Jiang leaned closer. He didn’t have a weapon. But Rin knew he’d never needed one.

“You’re all scum,” he sneered. “And I should have just done what he fucking wanted.”

Rin reached for the fire.

“Ziya, stop!”

Daji ran into the tent. Rin flinched back, heart pounding with relief. Jiang turned toward Daji, that horrible sneer still etched across his face. For a moment Rin thought that he would strike her, but Daji grabbed his arm before he could move and jammed a needle into his vein. He stood stock-still, swaying on his feet. His expression turned placid, and then he dropped to his knees.

“You,” he slurred. “You cunt. This is all your fault.”

“Go to sleep,” Daji said. “Just go to sleep.”

Jiang said something else, but it was slurred and nonsensical. One arm scrabbled for the floor—Rin thought he was reaching for the needle, and tensed for a fight—but then he tilted forward and collapsed to the ground.

“Get away from here.” Daji hustled Rin out of the tent into the cold night air. Rin stumbled along, too dazed to protest. Once they’d walked onto an icy ledge out of earshot of the main camp, Daji spun Rin around and shook her by the shoulders as if she were a disobedient child. “What were you thinking? Have you gone mad?”

“What was that?” Rin shrieked. She wiped frantically at her cheeks. Hot tears kept spilling down her face, but she couldn’t make them stop. “What is he?”

Daji shook her head and pressed her hand against her chest. It took Rin a moment to realize she wasn’t just posturing. Something was wrong.

“A flame,” Daji whispered urgently. Her lips had turned a dark, shocking violet. “Please.”

Rin lit a fire in her palm and held it out between them. “Here.”

Daji hunched over the warmth. She stayed like that for a long time, eyes closed, fingers twitching over the fire. Slowly the color came back to her face.

“You know what that was,” she said at last. “He’s getting his mind back.”

“But—” Rin swallowed, trying to wrap her mind around her racing questions, to configure them into an order that made sense. “But that’s not him. He’s not like that, surely he was never like that—”

“You didn’t know the real Jiang. You knew a shade of a man. You knew a fake, an imitation. That’s not Jiang, that never was.”

“And this is?” Rin shrieked. “He was going to kill me!”

“He’s adjusting.” Daji didn’t answer her question. “He’s just . . . confused, is all—”

“Confused? Haven’t you heard him? He’s afraid. He’s terrified of what’s happening to him,