wasn’t planning to turn traitor, why on earth would she say no?
“Come on,” Nezha said again. “A few drinks won’t hurt.”
She managed a smile and took his hand. “You read my mind.”
She tried to calm her racing heartbeat as she followed him out of the barracks.
This was all right. She could afford this one liberty. Once she left Arlong, she might never see Nezha again. She knew, despite their bond, that he could never leave his father’s side. She didn’t want him to remember her as a traitor. She wanted him to remember her as a friend.
She had at least until the hour before dawn. She might as well say a proper goodbye.
Rin didn’t know where Nezha and Venka had found so much liquor in a city that prohibited its sale to soldiers. When she’d made it outside the infirmary, Venka was waiting on the street with an entire wagon of sealed jugs. Nezha retrieved Kitay from the barracks. Then they pushed the wagon together up to the highest tower of the palace, where they sat overlooking the Red Cliffs, surveying the wreckage of the fleets floating below.
For the first few minutes they didn’t speak. They just drank furiously, trying to get as inebriated as possible. It didn’t take very long.
Venka kicked at Nezha’s foot. “You sure we’re not getting jailed for this?”
“We just won the most important battle in the history of the Empire.” Nezha gave her a lazy smile. “I think you’re fine to imbibe.”
“He’s trying to frame us,” Rin said.
She hadn’t meant to start drinking. But Venka and Nezha had kept urging her, and she hadn’t known how to say no without drawing suspicion. Once she started it was harder and harder to stop. Sorghum wine was only horrible for the first few swallows, when it felt like it was burning away at her esophagus, but very quickly a delicious, giddy numbness settled over her body and the wine began tasting like water.
It’ll wear off in a few hours, she thought dimly. She’d be fine by dawn.
“Believe me,” Nezha said. “I wouldn’t need this to frame any of you.”
Venka sniffed at her jug. “This stuff is gross.”
“What do you like better?” Nezha asked.
“Bamboo rice wine.”
“The lady is demanding,” Kitay said.
“I’ll procure it,” Nezha vowed.
“‘I’ll procure it,’” Kitay mimicked.
“Problem?” Nezha asked.
“No, just a question. Have you ever considered being less of a pretentious fuck?”
Nezha put his jug down. “Have you ever considered how close you’re standing to the roof?”
“Boys, boys.” Venka twirled a strand of hair between her fingers, while Kitay flicked droplets of wine at Nezha.
“Stop it,” Nezha snapped.
“Make me.”
Rin drank steadily, watching with lidded eyes as Nezha scooted on his knees across the tower and tackled Kitay to the floor. She supposed she should be afraid that they might fall off the edge, but drunk as she was, it just seemed very funny.
“I learned something,” Kitay announced abruptly, shoving Nezha off of him.
“You’re always learning things,” said Venka. “Kitay the scholar.”
“I’m an intellectually curious man,” Kitay said.
“Always hunkering down in the library. You know, I made a wager once at Sinegard that you spent all that time jerking off.”
Kitay spat out a mouthful of wine. “What?”
Venka propped her chin up on her hands. “Well, were you? Because I’d like to get my money back.”
Kitay ignored her. “My point being—listen, guys, this is actually interesting. You know why the Militia troops were fighting like they’d never held a sword before?”
“They were fighting with a bit more skill than that,” Nezha said.
“I don’t want to talk about troops,” said Venka.
Nezha elbowed her. “Indulge him. Else he’ll never shut up.”
“It’s malaria,” Kitay said. He sounded at first like he was hiccupping, but then he rolled on his side, giggling so hard his entire frame shook. He was drunk, Rin realized; perhaps more drunk than she was, despite the risk.
Kitay must be feeling the way she did—happy, deliriously so, for once in the company of friends who weren’t in danger, and she suspected that he, too, wanted to suspend reality and break the rules, to ignore the fact that they were about to part forever and just share these last jugs of wine.
She didn’t want dawn to come. She would draw this moment out forever if she could.
“They’re not used to southern diseases,” Kitay continued. “The mosquitoes weakened them more than anything we did. Isn’t that amazing?”
“Marvelous,” Venka said drily.
Rin wasn’t paying attention. She scooted closer to the edge of the tower. She wanted to fly again, to feel that