The Dragon Republic (The Poppy War #2) - R. F. Kuang Page 0,144

“We have the same enemy. You want Daji dead. You want revenge. Yes? So do I. Kill us, and you’ve lost an ally.”

The Sorqan Sira scoffed. “We can kill the Vipress easily enough ourselves.”

“No, you can’t. If you could, she’d be dead already. You’re scared of her.” Rin thought frantically as she spoke, spinning an argument together from thin air. “In twenty years you haven’t even ventured south, haven’t attempted to take back your lands. Why? Because you know the Vipress will destroy you. You’ve lost to her before. You don’t dare to face her again.”

The Sorqan Sira’s eyes narrowed, but she said nothing. Rin felt a desperate stab of hope. If her words angered the Ketreyids, that meant she had touched on a fragment of the truth. It meant she still had a chance of convincing them.

“But you’ve seen what I can do,” she continued. “You know that I could fight her, because you know what Speerlies are capable of. I’ve faced the Empress before. Set me free, and I’ll fight your battles for you.”

The Sorqan Sira shot Chaghan a question in her own language. They conversed for a moment. Chaghan’s words sounded hesitant and deferential; the Sorqan Sira’s harsh and angry. Their eyes darted once in a while to Kitay, who shifted uncomfortably, confused.

“She will do it,” Chaghan said finally in Nikara. “She won’t have a choice.”

“I’ll do what?” Rin asked.

They ignored her to keep arguing.

“This is not worth the risk,” Bekter interrupted. “Mother, you know this. Speerlies go mad faster than the rest.”

Chaghan shook his head. “Not this one. She’s stable.”

“No Speerlies are stable,” said Bekter.

“She fought it,” Chaghan insisted. “She’s off opium. She hasn’t touched it in months.”

“An adult Speerly who doesn’t smoke?” The Sorqan Sira cocked her head. “That’d be a first.”

“It makes no difference,” Bekter said. “The Phoenix will take her. It always does. Better to kill her now—”

Chaghan spoke over him, appealing directly to his aunt. “I have seen her at her worst. If the Phoenix could, then it would have already.”

“He’s lying,” Bekter snarled. “Look at him, he’s pathetic, he’s protecting them even now—”

“Enough,” said the Sorqan Sira. “I’ll have the truth for myself.”

Again, she grasped the sides of Rin’s face. “Look at me.”

Her eyes seemed different this time. They had become dark and hollow expanses, windows into an abyss that Rin did not want to see. Rin let out an involuntary whine, but the Sorqan Sira’s fingers tightened under her jaws. “Look.”

Rin felt herself pitching forward into that darkness. The Sorqan Sira wasn’t forcing a vision into her mind, she was forcing Rin to dredge one up herself. Memories loomed before her, haphazard and jagged fragments of visions that she’d done her best to bury. She was wrought in a sea of fire, she was pitching backward into black water, she was kneeling at Altan’s feet, blood pooling in her mouth.

The Seal loomed over her.

It had grown. It was thrice as large as she had last seen it, an expanded and hypnotic array of colors, swirling and pulsing like a heartbeat, arranged like a character she still could not recognize.

Rin could feel Daji’s presence inside it—sickening, addictive, seductive. Whispers sounded all about her, as if Daji were murmuring into her ear, promising her wonderful things.

I’ll take you away from this. I’ll give you everything you’ve ever wanted. I’ll give him back to you.

You only have to give in.

“What is this?” the Sorqan Sira murmured.

Rin couldn’t answer.

The Sorqan Sira let go of her face.

Rin dropped to her knees, hands splayed against solid ground. The sun spun in circles above her.

It took her a moment to realize the Sorqan Sira was laughing.

“She’s afraid of you,” the Sorqan Sira whispered. “Su Daji is afraid of you.”

“I don’t understand,” Rin said.

“This changes everything.” The Sorqan Sira barked a command. The riders standing nearest Rin seized her by the arms and hoisted her to her feet.

“What are you doing?” Rin struggled against their grip. “You can’t kill me, you still need me—”

“Oh, child. We are not going to kill you.” The Sorqan Sira reached out and stroked the backs of her fingers down Rin’s cheek. “We are going to fix you.”

Chapter 22

The Ketreyids tied Rin against a tree, though this time they were considerably gentler. They placed her bound wrists in her lap instead of twisting them painfully behind her back, and they left her legs untied once the extent of her ankle injury became obvious.

She couldn’t have run far even without a sprained ankle. Her