Rin heard a shot and threw herself to the ground as a bullet burrowed into the tree behind her.
Arrows whistled overhead. Each one found its mark with a thickening thud. A handful of Hesperians dropped to the ground, arrows pierced cleanly into their skulls. A few others ran, panicked, from the clearing. No one chased them.
The only one left was Augus. He wielded two arquebuses, one in each hand, their barrels drooping clumsily against the ground.
He’d never fired one. Rin could tell—he was shaking; he had absolutely no idea what to do.
The Sorqan Sira uttered a command under her breath. The riders moved at once. Instantly twelve arrowheads were pointed at Augus, bowstrings stretching taut.
“Don’t shoot!” Rin cried. She ran forward, blocking their arrows’ paths with her body. “Don’t shoot—please, he’s confused—”
Augus didn’t seem to notice. His eyes locked on Rin’s. He raised the arquebus in his right hand. The barrel formed a direct line to her chest.
It didn’t matter if he’d never fired an arquebus before. He couldn’t miss. Not from this distance.
“Demon,” he said.
“Rin, get back,” Kitay said tightly.
Rin stood frozen, unable to move. Augus waved his weapons erratically about, pointed them alternately between the Sorqan Sira, Rin, and Kitay. “Maker give me the courage, protect me from these heathens . . .”
“What is he saying?” the Sorqan Sira demanded.
Augus squeezed his eyes shut. “Show them the strength of heaven and smite them with your divine justice . . .”
“Augus, stop!” Rin walked forward, hands raised in what she hoped was a nonthreatening gesture, and spoke in clearly enunciated Hesperian. “You have nothing to be afraid of. These people aren’t your enemies, they’re not going to hurt you—”
“Savages!” Augus screamed. He waved one arquebus in an arc before him. The Ketreyids hissed and scattered backward; several sank into a low crouch. “Get out of my head!”
“Augus, please,” Rin begged. “You’re scared, you’re not yourself. Look at me, you know who I am, you’ve met me—”
Augus leveled the arquebus again at her.
The Sorqan Sira’s silent command rippled through the clearing. Fire.
Not a single Ketreyid rider loosed their bow.
Rin glanced around in confusion.
“Bekter!” the Sorqan Sira shouted. “What is this?”
Bekter smiled, and Rin realized with a twist of dread what was happening.
This wasn’t an accident. The Hesperians had been set free on purpose.
This was a coup.
A furious flurry of flashing images ricocheted back and forth in the clearing, a silent war of minds between Bekter and the Sorqan Sira blasted to everyone present, like they were wrestlers performing for an audience.
Rin saw Bekter cutting the Hesperians’ bonds and placing the arquebuses in their hands. They stared at him, brain-addled in terror. He told them they were about to play a game. He challenged them to outrun his arrows. The Hesperians scattered.
She saw the girl Jiang had murdered—Tseveri, the Sorqan Sira’s daughter—riding across the steppe with a little boy seated before her. They were laughing.
She saw a band of warriors—Speerlies, she realized with a start—at least a dozen of them, flames rolling off of their shoulders as they marched through burned yurts and charred bodies.
She felt a scorching fury radiating out of Bekter, a fury that the Sorqan Sira’s weakening protests only amplified, and she understood: This wasn’t just some ambition-fueled power struggle. This was vengeance.
Bekter wanted to do for his sister Tseveri what the Sorqan Sira never could. He wanted retribution. The Sorqan Sira wanted Nikara shamans controlled, but Bekter wanted them dead.
Too long you’ve let the Cike run unchecked in the Empire, Mother. Bekter’s voice rang loud and clear. Too long you’ve shown mercy to the Naimad scum. No more.
The riders agreed.
They’d long since shifted their loyalties. Now they only had to dispose of their leader.
The exchange was over in an instant.
The Sorqan Sira reeled back. She seemed to have shrunk in on herself. For the first time, Rin saw fear on her face.
“Bekter,” she said. “Please.”
Bekter spoke an order.
Arrows dotted the earth around Augus’s feet. Augus gave a strangled yelp. Rin lunged forward, but it was too late. She heard a click, then a small explosion.
The Sorqan Sira dropped to the ground. Smoke curled from the spot where the bullet had burrowed into her chest. She looked down, then back up at Augus, face contorted in disbelief, before slumping to the side.
Chaghan rushed forward. “Ama!”
Augus dropped the arquebus he’d fired and raised the second one to his shoulder.