The Dragon Republic (The Poppy War #2) - R. F. Kuang Page 0,56

the Second Poppy War.

But now that the Federation was gone, now that the Warlords no longer had reason to fear, it was very likely the provinces would realize they had no need for Daji.

Daji didn’t sound like she was spinning lies. If anything, Rin thought it more likely that she was telling the truth.

But if so—then what? That didn’t change things.

Daji had sold the Cike to the Federation. Daji was the reason why Altan was dead. Those were the only two things that mattered.

“This Empire is falling apart,” Daji said urgently. “It’s becoming weak, you’ve seen that. But what if we bent the Warlords to our will? Just imagine what you could do under my command.” She cupped Rin’s cheek in her hand, drew their faces close together. “There’s so much you have to learn, and I can teach you.”

Rin would have bitten Daji’s fingers off if she could move her head. “There’s nothing you can teach me.”

“Don’t be foolish. You need me. You’ve been feeling the pull, haven’t you? It’s consuming you. Your mind is not your own.”

Rin flinched. “I don’t—you’re not—”

“You’re scared to close your eyes,” Daji murmured. “You crave the opium, because that’s the only thing that makes your mind your own again. You’re fighting your god at every moment. Every instant you’re not incinerating everything around you, you’re dying. But I can help you.” Daji’s voice was so soft, so tender, so gentle and reassuring that Rin wanted terribly to believe her. “I can give you your mind back.”

“I have control of my mind,” Rin said hoarsely.

“Liar. Who would have taught you? Altan? He was barely sane himself. You think I don’t know what that’s like? The first time we called the gods, I wanted to die. We all did. We thought we were going mad. We wanted to fling our bodies off Mount Tianshan to end it.”

Rin couldn’t stop herself from asking, “So what did you do?”

Daji touched an icy finger to Rin’s lips. “Loyalty first. Then answers.”

She snapped her fingers.

Suddenly Rin could move again; could breathe easily again. She hugged trembling arms around her torso.

“You don’t have anyone else,” Daji said. “You’re the last Speerly. Altan is gone. Vaisra has no clue what you’re suffering. Only I know how to help you.”

Rin hesitated, considering.

She knew she could never trust Daji.

And yet.

Was it better to serve at the hand of a tyrant, to consolidate the Empire into the true dictatorship that it had always aspired to be? Or should she overthrow the Empire and take her chances on democracy?

No—that was a political question, and Rin had no interest in its answer.

She was interested only in her own survival. Altan had trusted the Empress. Altan was dead. She wouldn’t make that same mistake.

She kicked out with her left foot. The rake slammed hard into her hand—the grass offered less resistance than she’d thought—and she sprang forward, spinning the rake in a forward loop.

But attacking Daji was like attacking air. The Empress dodged effortlessly, skirting so fast through the courtyard that Rin could barely track her movements.

“You think this is wise?” Daji didn’t sound the least bit breathless. “You’re a little girl armed with a stick.”

You’re a little girl armed with fire, said the Phoenix.

Finally.

Rin held the rake still so she could concentrate on pulling the flame out from inside her, gathering the searing heat in her palms just as something silver flashed past her face and pinged off the brick wall.

Needles. Daji hurled them at her fistfuls at a time, pulling them out from her sleeves in seemingly endless quantities. The fire dissipated. Rin swung the rake in a desperate circle in front of her, knocking the needles out of the air as fast as they came.

“You’re slow. You’re clumsy.” Now Daji was on the attack, forcing Rin backward in a steady retreat. “You fight like you’ve never seen battle.”

Rin struggled to keep her hands on the heavy rake. She couldn’t concentrate enough to call the fire; she was too focused on warding off the needles. Panic clouded her senses. At this rate she’d exhaust herself on the defensive.

“Does it ever bother you?” whispered Daji. “That you are only a pale imitation of Altan?”

Rin’s back slammed into the brick wall. She had nowhere left to run.

“Look at me.” Daji’s voice reverberated through the air, echoed over and over again in Rin’s mind.

Rin squeezed her eyes shut. She had to call the fire now, she’d never get this chance again—but her mind was leaving her. The world