the places where the flesh had split apart to reveal the bone. Rin’s hand was already stinging so badly from the alcohol that it almost masked the pain, but the sight of the needle dipping repeatedly into her flesh made her so nauseated she had to stop in the middle to dry-heave.
At last, the physician prepared to set the bones. “You’ll want to hold on to something.”
Rin grasped the edge of the chair with her good hand. Without warning, the physician pressed down.
Rin’s eyes bulged open. She couldn’t stop her legs from kicking madly at the air. Tears streamed down her cheeks.
“You’re doing well,” the physician murmured as she tied a cloth splint over the set hand. “The worst part’s over.”
She pressed Rin’s hand between two wooden planks and tied them together with several loops of twine to render the hand immobile. Rin’s fingers were splayed outward, frozen in position.
“See how that feels,” said the physician. “I’m sorry it looks so clumsy. I can build you something more lightweight, but it’ll take a few days, and I don’t have the supplies on the ship.”
Rin raised the splint to her eyes. Between the planks she could see only the tips of her fingers. She tried to wiggle her fingers, but she couldn’t tell if they were obeying her or not.
“Am I all right to remove the gag?” the physician asked.
Rin nodded.
The physician pulled it out of her mouth.
“Will I be able to use this hand?” she asked the moment she could speak.
“There’s no telling how this might heal. Most of your fingers are actually fine, but the center of your hand is cracked straight through the middle. If—”
“Am I losing this hand?” Rin interrupted.
“That’s likely. I mean, you can never quite predict how—”
“I understand.” Rin sat back, trying not to panic. “All right. That’s—that’s okay. That . . .”
“You’ll want to consider getting it amputated if it heals and you still don’t have mobility.” The physician attempted to sound soothing, but her quiet words only made Rin want to scream. “That might be better than walking around with . . . ah, dead flesh. It’s more prone to infections, and the recurring pain might be so bad that you want it gone entirely.”
Rin didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know how she was supposed to absorb the information that she was now effectively one-handed, that she’d have to relearn everything if she wanted to fight with a sword again.
This couldn’t be happening. This couldn’t be happening to her.
“Breathe slowly,” said the physician.
Rin realized she’d been hyperventilating.
The physician put a hand on her wrist. “You’ll be all right. It’s not as bad as you think it is.”
Rin raised her voice. “Not as bad?”
“Most amputees learn to adjust. In time, you’ll—”
“I’m supposed to be a soldier!” Rin shouted. “What the fuck am I supposed to do now?”
“You can summon fire,” said the physician. “What do you need a sword for?”
“I thought the Hesperians were only here for military support and trade negotiations. This treaty basically turns us into a colony.” Venka was talking when Rin, despite the physician’s protests, walked into the captain’s quarters. She glanced up. “Aren’t you supposed to be asleep?”
“Didn’t want to,” Rin said. “What are we talking about?”
“The physician said the laudanum would have you out for hours,” Kitay said.
“I didn’t take it.” She sat down beside him. “I’ve had enough of opiates for a while.”
“Fair enough.” He glanced over at her splint, then flexed his own fingers. Rin noticed the sweat drenching his uniform, the half-moon marks where he’d dug his nails into his palm. He’d felt every second of her pain.
She cleared her throat and changed the subject. “Why are we talking about treaties?”
“Tarcquet has staked his claim to the continent,” said the Monkey Warlord. Gurubai looked awful. Flecks of dried blood covered both his hands and the left side of his face, and his expression was hollow and haggard. He’d escaped the crackdown, but just barely. “The treaty terms were atrocious. The Hesperians got their trade rights—we’ve waived our rights to any tariffs, but they get to keep theirs. They also won the right to build military bases anywhere they want on Nikara soil.”
“Bet they got permission for missionaries, too,” Kitay said.
“They did. And they wanted the right to market opium in the Empire again.”
“Surely Vaisra said no,” Rin said.
“Vaisra signed every clause,” Gurubai said. “He didn’t even put up a fight. You think he had a choice? He doesn’t even have full control over domestic