Baji was not cheating, but they discovered that Ramsa was when a handful of dice spilled out of his sleeve, at which point the game turned into a wrestling match that ended only when Ramsa bit Baji on the arm hard enough to draw blood.
“You mangy little brat,” Baji cursed as he wrapped a linen around his elbow.
Ramsa grinned, displaying teeth stained red.
All of them were clearly bored, going stir-crazy while waiting out the storm. But Rin suspected that they were also itching for action. She’d cautioned them not to put their full abilities on display where Hesperian soldiers might be watching. Petra knew about one shaman; she didn’t need to discover the rest.
Concealment had turned out to be fairly easy on campaign. Suni and Baji’s abilities were freakish, yes, but not necessarily in the realm of the supernatural. In the chaos of a melee, they could pass themselves off as hypercompetent soldiers. It had worked so far. As far as Rin knew, the Hesperians suspected nothing. Suni and Baji might be getting frustrated holding themselves back, but at least they were free.
For once, Rin thought, she’d made some decent decisions as commander. She hadn’t gotten them killed. The Republican troops treated them better than the Militia ever had. They were getting paid, they were as safe as they’d ever be, and that was as good as she could do for them.
“What are the Gray Company like?” Baji asked as he scooped the dice off the floor for a new game. “I heard that woman talks your ear off every time you’re together.”
“It’s stupid,” Rin muttered. “Religious lecturing.”
“Load of hogwash?” Ramsa asked.
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “They might be right about some things.”
She wished she could discard the Hesperian faith more easily, but so many parts of it made sense. She wanted to believe it. She wanted to see her catastrophic actions as a product of Chaos, an entropic mistake, and to believe that she could repent for them by reinforcing order in the Empire, reversing devastation the way one pieced together a broken teacup.
It made her feel better. It made every battle she’d fought since Adlaga feel like another step toward putting things right. It made her feel less like a killer.
“You know their Divine Architect doesn’t exist,” Baji said. “I mean, you understand why that’s obvious, right?”
“I’m not sure,” she said slowly. Certainly the Maker didn’t exist on the same psychospiritual plane as the sixty-four gods of the Pantheon, but was that enough to discount the Hesperians’ theory? What if the Pantheon was, in fact, a manifestation of Chaos? What if the Divine Architect truly existed on a higher plane, out of reach of anyone but his chosen and blessed people?
“I mean, look at their airships,” she said. “Their arquebuses. If they’re claiming religion made them advanced, they might be right about some things.”
Baji opened his mouth to respond and promptly closed it. Rin looked up and saw a shock of white hair in the doorway.
No one spoke. The dice clattered loudly to the floor and stayed there.
Ramsa broke the silence. “Hi, Chaghan.”
Rin hadn’t spoken to Chaghan since Arlong. When the fleet had sailed, she’d partly hoped that Chaghan might just elect to stay on land. He was never one for the thick of battle, and after their falling-out she couldn’t imagine why he’d stay with her. But the twins had remained with the Cike, and Rin had found herself crossing the room whenever she saw a hint of white hair.
Chaghan paused by the door, Qara close behind him.
“Having fun?” he asked.
“Sure,” Baji said. “You want in?”
“No, thank you,” Chaghan said. “But it’s nice to see you’re all having such a good time.”
No one responded to that. Rin knew she was being mocked, she just didn’t have the energy to get into it with Chaghan right now.
“Does it hurt?” Qara asked.
Rin blinked. “What?”
“When the gray-eyed one takes you to her cabin,” Qara said. “Does it hurt?”
“Oh. It’s—it’s not so bad. It’s just a lot of measurements.”
Qara cast her what looked like a glance of sympathy, but Chaghan grabbed his sister by the arm and stormed out of the cabin before she could speak.
Ramsa gave a low whistle and began to pick the dice up off the floor.
Baji gave Rin a curious look. “What happened between you two?”
“Stupid shit,” Rin muttered.
“Stupid shit about Altan?” Ramsa pressed.
“Why would you think it was about Altan?”
“Because with Chaghan, it’s always about Altan.” Ramsa tossed his dice into a cup and shook. “Honestly?