an encounter with the Vipress unscathed. The ship’s physician had cursorily examined her for broken bones but found nothing. Aside from some bruising, she felt no serious pain. Yet she was convinced that something was deeply wrong with her; something deep, internal, a poison that had wrapped around her bones.
Chaghan, too, seemed badly shaken. He’d been silent, unresponsive until they pulled out of harbor, and then he had collapsed against Qara and sunk to the floor, knees drawn up against his chest in a miserable huddle while his sister bent over him, whispering words no one else could understand into his ear.
The crew, clearly unsettled, gave them a wide berth. Rin tried to ignore them until she heard gasping noises from the deck. At first she thought he was sobbing, but no—he was just trying to breathe, jagged gasps rocking his frail form.
She knelt down beside the twins. She wasn’t sure whether she ought to try to touch Chaghan. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?”
Chaghan raised his head and took a deep, shuddering breath. His eyes were ringed with red. “She was—I’ve never . . . I never imagined anyone could be so . . .”
“What?”
He shook his head.
Qara answered for him. “Stable.” She whispered the word like it was a horrifying idea. “She shouldn’t be so stable.”
“What is she?” Rin asked. “What goddess is that?”
“She’s old power,” Chaghan said. “She’s something that’s been alive longer than the world itself. I thought she’d be weakened, now that the other two are gone, but she’s . . . if that’s the Vipress at her weakest . . .” He slammed a palm against the deck. “We were fools to try.”
“She’s not invincible,” Rin said. “You beat her.”
“No, I surprised her. And then for only an instant. I don’t think things like that can be beat. We got lucky.”
“Any longer and she would have had your minds,” Qara said. “You’d be trapped forever in those illusions.”
She’d turned just as pale as her brother. Rin wondered how much Qara had seen. Qara hadn’t even been there, but Rin knew the twins were bonded by some odd Hinterlander magic. When Chaghan bled, Qara hurt. If Chaghan was shaken by Daji, then Qara must have felt it back on the Seagrim, a psychic tremble that threatened to poison her soul.
“So we’ll find some other way,” Rin said. “She’s still a mortal body, she’s still—”
“She will squeeze your soul in her fist and turn you into a babbling idiot,” Chaghan said. “I’m not trying to dissuade you. I know you’ll fight her to the end. But I hope you realize you’re going to go mad trying.”
Then so be it. Rin wrapped her arms around her knees. “Did you see? In there, when she showed me?”
Chaghan gave her a pitying look. “I couldn’t help it.”
Qara looked away. She must have seen, too.
For some reason, in that moment Rin felt like it was the most important thing in the world for her to explain herself to the twins. She felt guilty, dirty, like she had been caught in a terrible lie. “It wasn’t like that. With him. With Altan, I mean—”
“I know,” Chaghan said.
She wiped at her eyes. “It was never like that. I mean—I think I wanted—but he never—”
“We know,” Qara said. “Trust us, we know.”
Rin was stunned when Chaghan reached out and put his arm around her shoulder. She would have cried, but she felt too raw inside, like she had been hollowed out with a carving knife.
Chaghan’s arm rested at an odd angle over her back; his bony elbow joint dug painfully into her bone. After a while she shifted her right shoulder, and he withdrew his arm.
Hours passed before Nezha reemerged onto the deck.
Rin searched his face for clues. He looked wan but not grief-stricken, exhausted but not panicked, which meant . . .
She hastened to her feet. “Your father?”
“I think he’ll pull through.” He rubbed at his temples. “Dr. Sien finally kicked me out. Said to give Father some space.”
“He’s awake?”
“Sleeping for now. He was delirious for a bit, but Dr. Sien said that was a good sign. Meant he was talking.”
She let loose a long breath. “I’m glad.”
He sat down and rubbed his hands down his legs with a small sigh of relief. He must have been standing beside his father’s bedside for hours.
“Watching something?” he asked her.
“I’m watching nothing.” She squinted at the receding outline of Lusan. Only the highest pagoda towers of the palace were still visible. “That’s what’s