The Burning God (The Poppy War #3) - R.F. Kuang Page 0,144

her knife. Her arm wouldn’t listen.

“Kneel,” Riga said softly.

She obeyed instantly. His voice was like a physical force on its own, capable of bending her knees and forcing her gaze to the ground. It vibrated in her bones. It shook the very foundations of the pagoda.

Riga strode slowly toward her. “She’s shorter than the others. Why is that?”

No one answered. He made a humming noise. “I suppose Hanelai was short. Does she follow orders?”

At last, Rin managed to spit out a word. “Orders?”

“Rin, be quiet,” Daji said sharply.

Riga just laughed. “I’m impressed, Ziya. You really found another one to keep around, did you? You always did like your pets.”

“I’m not his pet,” Rin snarled.

“Oh, it talks.”

Riga leaned down and gave her a wide, terrible smile. Then he reached out, seized her collar, and pulled her up into the air in one smooth, easy motion. Rin gasped as his thumbs dug painfully into her windpipe. She kicked out with her feet, but she was swinging entire inches off the ground, and all she could do was brush Riga’s knees with her toes. All her flailing had no more effect than a child throwing a tantrum. Riga pulled her toward him until their eyes were level, their faces so close that she could feel the heat of his breath on her cheeks when he spoke.

“I’ve been asleep for a very long time, little Speerly,” he whispered. “I’m not in the mood for contradiction.”

“Oh, let her go,” Daji said. “You’re going to kill her like that.”

Riga shot her a glare. “Did I give you permission to speak?”

“She’s useful,” Daji insisted. “She’s strong, she helped us get here—”

“Really? That’s pathetic. You used to get these things done on your own.” Riga’s lip curled in amusement. “What is it? Did Ziya fuck this one, too? I must say, his standards have dropped.”

“It’s nothing like that,” Daji said quickly. “She’s just a child, Riga, don’t hurt her—”

“What’s this, darling?” Riga gave a low chuckle. “Finally developing a conscience?”

Daji’s voice became shrill. “Riga, listen to me, let her go.”

Riga opened his fingers.

Rin dropped to the ground, clutching noiselessly at her throat. Riga’s legs loomed above her. She cringed, bracing herself for a vicious kick, but he merely stepped over her as if she were a footstool.

He was headed for Daji.

“Riga—” Daji started, just before Riga drew his hand back and slapped her across the face. Daji’s head whipped to the side. She cried out and clutched her cheek.

“Shut up,” Riga said, and slapped her again. Then again, and again, until a vivid crimson handprint bloomed on Daji’s paper-white cheek. “Shut up, you fucking whore.”

Rin watched them from where she lay, astonished.

For the longest time she had considered Daji—Su Daji, the Vipress, former Empress of Nikan—the most powerful being on earth. From the moment she’d met her, she’d feared her. She’d wanted terribly to be her.

But here Daji stood, shoulders hunched like she was trying to shrivel into nothing while Riga battered her like she was a dog. And she was just taking it.

“Did you think I’d forgotten?” Riga asked hoarsely. “You treacherous little bitch, did you think I don’t know who put me here?”

He raised his hand high. Daji shrank against the wall and loosed a whimpering sob.

“Oh, don’t be like that.” He put his fingers under Daji’s chin and forced her head up. He sighed. “You used to be so pretty when you cried. When did you stop being so pretty?”

Rin wanted to vomit.

Surely Daji wouldn’t take this. Surely she would strike back. Surely Jiang would defend her.

But they only looked away—Daji at her hands, Jiang at the ground. They were both trembling. Then Rin realized that this was nothing new for them; this was a trained response to a terror they’d lived with for years. A terror so incapacitating that now, twenty years later, after half a lifetime of freedom from the man they’d hated, they still cowered meekly before him like whipped dogs.

Rin was astounded.

What had Riga done to them?

And if she brought him back down the mountain, what would he do to her?

Kill him, said the Phoenix. Kill him now.

Riga’s back was turned to her. She could end this in seconds; all it took was a quick hop, lunge, and stab. She clasped the hilt of her knife, rose to her feet as silently as she could, and dug her heels into the ground. She could call on the Phoenix, but sometimes steel was faster than fire—

No. No. If she hurt the Trifecta,