The Dragon Republic (The Poppy War #2) - R. F. Kuang Page 0,95

knows it because everyone else has moved on except me, but to me everything that’s happened since Golyn Niis is a dream, and I know it’s not real because I’m still behind the wall. And the worst part—the worst part is that I don’t know who’s causing the screams. It was easier when only the Federation was evil. Now I can’t figure out who’s right or wrong, and I’m the smart one, I’m always supposed to have the right answer, but I don’t.”

She didn’t know what she could possibly say to comfort him, so she curled her fingers around his and held them tight. “Me neither.”

“What happened on that island?” he asked abruptly.

“You know what happened.”

“No. You never told me.” He straightened up. “Was it conscious? Did you think about what you were doing?”

“I don’t remember,” she said. “I try not to remember.”

“Did you know you were killing them?” he pressed. “Or did you just . . .” His fingers clenched into a fist and then unclenched beneath hers.

“I just wanted it to be over,” she said. “I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t want to hurt them, not really, I just wanted it to end.”

“I didn’t want to kill her. I just—I don’t know why I—”

“I know.”

“That wasn’t me,” he insisted, but she wasn’t the one he needed to convince.

All she could do was squeeze his hand again. “I know.”

Signals were sent, courses were reversed. Within a day the dispersed skimmers had fled hastily down the Murui to rejoin the main armada.

When Rin saw the Republican Fleet from the front it seemed deceptively small, ships arranged in a narrow formation. Then they approached from the side and the full menace of the flotilla was splayed out in front of her, a marvelous and breathtaking display of force. Compared to the warships, the Swallow was just a tiny thing, a baby bird returning to the flock.

Captain Salkhi lit several lanterns to signal their return, and the patrol ships at the fore signaled back their permission to break through the line. The Swallow slipped into the ranks. An hour later Jinzha boarded their ship. The crew assembled on deck to report.

“We’ve stopped the poison at the source, but there may be canisters left in the ruins,” Salkhi told Jinzha. “You’ll want to send a squadron up there to see if you can retrieve it.”

“Were they producing it themselves?” Jinzha asked.

“That’s unlikely,” Salkhi said. “That wasn’t a research facility, it was a makeshift slaughterhouse. It seems like that was just the distribution point.”

“We think they got it from the Federation facility on the coast,” said Rin. “The one where I was— The one they took me to.”

Jinzha frowned. “That’s all the way out in Snake Province. Why bring it here?”

“They couldn’t have set it off in Snake Province,” Kitay said. “The current takes the poison out to sea instead of to Arlong. So someone must have gone there recently, retrieved the canisters, and carted them over to Hare Province.”

“I hope that’s right,” said Jinzha. “I don’t want to entertain the alternative.”

Because the alternative, of course, was terrifying—that they were fighting a war not only against the Empire, but also against the Federation. That the Federation had survived, and had retained its weapons, and was sending them to Vaisra’s enemies.

“Did you take prisoners?” Jinzha asked.

Salkhi nodded. “Two guardsmen. They’re in the brig. We’ll turn them over for interrogation.”

“There’s no need for that.” Jinzha waved a hand. “We know what we need to know. Bring them out to the beach.”

“Your brother has a flair for public spectacle,” Kitay told Nezha.

The screaming had been going on for more than an hour now. Rin had almost gotten used to it, though it made it difficult to stomach her dinner.

The Hare Province guardsmen were strung up against posts in the ground, beaten for good measure. Jinzha had stripped them, flayed them, then poured diluted poison from one of the pods into a flask and boiled it. Now it ran in rivulets down the guardsmen’s skin, tracing a steaming, angrily red path over their cheeks, their collarbones, down toward their exposed genitals, while the Republican soldiers sat back on the beach and watched.

“This wasn’t necessary,” Nezha said. His dinner rations sat untouched beside him. “This is grotesque.”

Kitay laughed, a flat, hollow noise. “Don’t be naive.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“This is necessary. The Republic’s just taken a massive blow. Vaisra can’t undo the poisoning of the river, or the fact that thousands of people are going to starve. But give a