hand rapidly over her chest, forming symbols with her fingers that Rin had never seen. “It conceals its true nature and imitates order to subvert it. I know I cannot elicit the truth from you. I am only a novice initiate. But the Gray Company will have their turn.”
Rin watched her warily, paying close attention to the whip. “Then what do you want?”
Saikhara pointed toward the window. “I’m here to watch.”
Rin followed her gaze, confused.
“Go ahead,” Saikhara said. She looked oddly, viciously triumphant. “Enjoy the show.”
Rin stumbled toward the window and peered outside.
She saw that she was being held in a third-story room of the palace, facing the center courtyard. Underneath, a crowd of troops—Republican and Hesperian both—had assembled in a semicircle around a raised dais. Two blindfolded prisoners walked slowly up the stairs, arms tied behind their backs, flanked on both sides by Hesperian soldiers.
The prisoners stopped at the edge of the dais. The soldiers prodded them with their arquebuses until they stepped forward to stand at the center. The one on the left tilted his head up to the sun.
Even with the blindfold, Rin recognized that dark, handsome face.
Baji stood straight, unyielding.
Beside him, Suni hunched down between his shoulders as if he could make himself a smaller target. He looked terrified.
Rin twisted around. “What is this?”
Saikhara’s gaze was fixed on the window, eyes narrowed, mouth pressed in the thinnest of lines. “Watch.”
Someone struck a gong. The crowd parted. Rin watched, veins icy with dread, as Vaisra ascended the dais and took a position several feet in front of Suni and Baji. He raised his arms. He shouted something that Rin couldn’t make out over the crowd. All she heard was the soldiers roaring in approval.
“Once upon a time, the Red Emperor had all the monks in his realm put to death.” Saikhara spoke quietly behind her. “Why do you think he did it?”
Four Hesperian soldiers lined up in front of Baji, arquebuses leveled at his torso.
“What are you doing?” Rin screamed. “Stop!”
But of course Vaisra couldn’t hear her down there, not over the shouting. She strained helplessly against her chains, screeching, but all she could do was watch as he lifted his hand.
Four staggered shots punctuated the air. Baji’s body jerked from side to side in a horrible dance with each bullet, until the last one caught him dead center in the chest. For a long, bizarre minute he remained standing, teetering back and forth, like his body couldn’t decide which way to fall. Then he collapsed to his knees, head bent, before a last round of gunfire knocked him to the floor.
“So much for your gods,” Saikhara said.
Below, the soldiers reloaded their arquebuses and fired a second round of bullets into Suni.
Slowly Rin turned around.
Rage filled her mind, a visceral urge not just to defeat but to destroy, to incinerate Saikhara so thoroughly that not even her bones would remain, and to do it slowly, to make the agony last as long as possible.
She reached for her god. At first there was no response, only an opium-dulled nothing. Then she heard the Phoenix’s reply—a distant shriek, ever so faint.
That was enough. She felt the heat in her palms. She had the fire back.
She almost laughed. After all the opium she had smoked, her tolerance had become much, much higher than the Yins had imagined.
“Your false gods have been discovered,” Saikhara said softly. “Chaos will die.”
“You know nothing of the gods,” Rin whispered.
“I know enough.” Saikhara raised the whip again. Rin moved faster. She turned her palms toward Saikhara and fire burst out—just a small stream, not even a tenth of her full range, but it was enough to set Saikhara’s robes aflame.
Saikhara skirted backward, screeching for help while the lash fell repeatedly against Rin’s shoulder, slicing across open wounds. Rin raised her arms to shield her head, but the whip lacerated her wrists instead.
The doors opened. Eriden burst inside, followed by two soldiers. Rin redirected the flames at them, but they held damp, fireproof tarps in front of them. The fire sizzled and failed to catch. One kicked her to the ground and pinned her down by the arms. The other forced a wet cloth over her mouth.
Rin tried not to inhale, but her vision dimmed and she convulsed, gasping. The thick taste of laudanum invaded her mouth, cloying and potent. The effect was immediate. Her flames died away. She couldn’t sense the Phoenix—could barely even hear or see at all.