Chaghan sighed. “Then leave them a fire. And then we’ll move far enough that they’ll feel safe to approach it.”
That wasn’t a bad idea. Kitay had a small flame going within minutes, and Rin waved toward the Hesperians. “We’re going to sit over there,” she called. “You can use this one.”
Again, no response.
But once she’d moved farther down the bank, she saw the Hesperians inching slowly toward the fire. Augus stretched his hands out over the flame. That was a small relief. At least they wouldn’t die of sheer idiocy.
Once Kitay had built a second fire, all four of them stripped their uniforms off without self-consciousness. The air was icy around them, but they were colder in their drenched clothes than without. Naked, they huddled together over the flames, holding their hands as close to the fire as they could get without burning their skin. They squatted in silence for what seemed like hours. Nobody wanted to expend the energy to talk.
“We’ll get back to the Murui.” Rin finally spoke as she pulled her dry uniform back on. It felt good to say the words out loud. It was something pragmatic, a step toward solid action, and it quelled the panic building in her stomach. “There’s plenty of loose driftwood around here. We could make a raft and just float downstream through the minor tributaries until we hit the main river, and if we’re careful and only move at night, then—”
Chaghan didn’t let her finish. “That’s a terrible idea.”
“And why’s that?”
“Because there’s nothing to go back to. The Republic’s finished. Your friends are dead. Their bodies are probably lining the bottom of Lake Boyang.”
“You don’t know that,” she said.
He shrugged.
“They’re not dead,” she insisted.
“So run back to Arlong, then.” He shrugged again. “Crawl into Vaisra’s arms and hide as long as you can before the Empress comes for you.”
“That’s not what I—”
“That’s exactly what you want. You can’t wait to go groveling to his feet, waiting for your next command like some trained dog.”
“I’m not a fucking dog.”
“Aren’t you?” Chaghan raised his voice. “Did you even put up a fight when they stripped you of command? Or were you glad? Can’t give orders for shit, but you love taking them. Speerlies ought to know what it’s like to be slaves, but I never imagined you’d enjoy it.”
“I was never a slave,” Rin snarled.
“Oh, you were, you just didn’t know it. You bow down to anyone who will give you orders. Altan pulled on your fucking heartstrings, played you like a lute—he just had to say the right words, make you think he loved you, and you’d run after him to the Chuluu Korikh like an idiot.”
“Shut up,” she said in a low voice.
But then she saw what this was all about now. This wasn’t about Vaisra. This wasn’t about the Republic at all. This was about Altan. All these months later, after everything they’d been through, everything was still about Altan.
She could give Chaghan that fight. He’d fucking had it coming.
“Like you didn’t worship him,” she hissed. “I’m not the one who was obsessed with him. You dropped everything to do whatever he asked you to—”
“But I didn’t go with him to the Chuluu Korikh,” he said. “You did.”
“You’re blaming me for that?”
She knew where this was going. She understood now what Chaghan had been too cowardly to say to her face all these months—that he blamed Altan’s death on her.
No wonder he hated her.
Qara put a hand on her brother’s arm. “Chaghan, don’t.”
Chaghan shook her off. “Someone let Feylen loose. Someone got Altan captured. It wasn’t me.”
“And someone told him where the Chuluu Korikh was in the first place,” Rin shouted. “Why? Why would you do that? You knew what was in there!”
“Because Altan thought he could raise an army.” Chaghan spoke in a loud, flat voice. “Because Altan thought he could reset the course of history to before the Red Emperor and bring the world back to a time when Speer was free and the shamans were at the height of their power. Because for a time that vision was so beautiful that even I believed it. But I stopped. I realized that he’d gone crazy and that something had broken and that that path was just going to lead to his death.
“But you? You followed him right to the very end. You let them capture him on that mountain, and you let him die on that pier.”
Guilt coiled tightly in Rin’s gut, wrenching and horrible. She