“We’ll be slaves in our own country,” Kitay said.
“‘Slave’ is a strong way of putting it,” Gurubai said. “The Hesperians aren’t much into forced labor, at least on this continent. They prefer relying on forces of economic coercion. The Divine Architect appreciates rational and voluntary choice, and all that nonsense.”
“That’s fucked,” Rin said.
“It was inevitable the moment Vaisra invited them to his hall. The southern Warlords saw this coming. We tried to warn you. You wouldn’t listen.”
Rin shifted uncomfortably in her seat. But Gurubai’s tone wasn’t accusatory, simply resigned.
“We can’t do anything about it now,” he said. “We need to go back down to the south first. Clean out the Federation. Make it safe for our people to come home.”
“What’s the point?” Kitay asked. “You’re the agricultural center of the Empire. Fight off the Federation and you’ll just be doing Vaisra a favor. He’s going to come for you sooner or later.”
“Then we’ll fight back,” Rin said. “They want the south, they’ll have to bleed for it.”
Gurubai gave her a grim smile. “That sounds about right.”
“We’re going to take on Vaisra and the entire Consortium.” Kitay let that sink in for a moment, and then let out a mad, high-pitched giggle. “You can’t be serious.”
“We don’t have any other options,” said Rin.
“You could all run,” Venka said. “Go to Ankhiluun, get the Black Lilies to hide you. Lie low.”
Gurubai shook his head. “There’s not a single person in the Republic who doesn’t know who Rin is. Moag’s on our side, but she can’t keep every lowlife in Ankhiluun from talking. You’d all last at most a month.”
“I’m not running,” Rin said.
She wasn’t going to let Vaisra hunt her down like a dog.
“You’re not fighting another war, either,” Kitay said. “Rin. You have one functional hand.”
“You don’t need both hands to command troops,” she said.
“What troops?”
She gestured around the ship. “I’m assuming we’ll have the Red Junk fleet.”
Kitay scoffed. “A fleet so powerful that Moag’s never dared to move on Daji.”
“Because Ankhiluun’s never been at stake,” Rin said. “Now it is.”
“Fine,” Kitay snapped. “You’ve got a fleet maybe a tenth of the size of what the Hesperians could bring. What else you got? Farm boys? Peasants?”
“Farm boys and peasants become soldiers all the time.”
“Yes, given time to train and weapons, neither of which you have.”
“What would you have us do, then?” Rin asked softly. “Die quietly and let Vaisra have his way?”
“That’s better than getting more idiots killed for a war that you can’t win.”
“I don’t think you realize how big our power base is,” said Gurubai.
“Really?” Kitay asked. “Did I just miss the army you’ve got hidden away somewhere?”
“The refugees you saw at Arlong don’t represent even a thousandth of the southern population,” said Gurubai. “There are a hundred thousand men who picked up axes to fend off the Federation when it became clear we weren’t getting aid. They’ll fight for us.”
He pointed at Rin. “They’ll fight especially for her. She’s already become myth in the south. The vermilion bird. The goddess of fire. She’s the savior they’ve been waiting for. She’s the symbol they’ve been waiting this whole war to follow. What do you think happens when they see her in person?”
“Rin’s been through enough,” Kitay said. “You’re not turning her into some kind of figurehead—”
“Not a figurehead.” Rin cut him off. “I’ll be a general. I’ll lead the entire southern army. Isn’t that right?”
Gurubai nodded. “If you’ll do it.”
Kitay gripped her shoulder. “Is that what you want to be? Another Warlord in the south?”
Rin didn’t understand that question.
Why did it matter what she wanted to be? She knew what she couldn’t be. She couldn’t be Vaisra’s weapon anymore. She couldn’t be the tool of any military; couldn’t close her eyes and lend her destructive abilities to someone else who told her where and when to kill.
She had thought that being a weapon might give her peace. That it might place the blame of blood-soaked decisions on someone else so that she was not responsible for the deaths at her hands. But all that had done was make her blind, stupid, and so easily manipulated.
She was so much more powerful than anyone—Altan, Vaisra—had ever let her be. She was finished taking orders. Whatever she did next would be her sole, autonomous choice.
“The south is going to go to war regardless,” she said. “They’ll need a leader. Why shouldn’t it be me?”
“They’re untrained,” Kitay said. “They’re unarmed, they’re probably starving—”
“Then we’ll steal food and equipment. Or we’ll get it shipped in. Perks of allying with Moag.”
He blinked at her. “You’re going to lead peasants and refugees against Hesperian dirigibles.”
Rin shrugged. She was mad to be so cavalier, she knew that. But they were backed against a wall, and their lack of options was almost a relief, because it meant simply that they fought or they died. “Don’t forget the pirates, too.”
Kitay looked like he was on the verge of ripping out every strand of hair left on his head.
“Do not assume that because the southerners are untrained they will not make good soldiers,” said Gurubai. “Our advantage lies in numbers. The fault lines of this country don’t lie at the level that Vaisra was prepared to engage. The real civil war won’t be fought at the provincial level.”
“But Vaisra’s not the Empire,” Kitay said. “The split was with the Empire.”
“No, the split is with people like us,” Rin said suddenly. “It’s the north and the south. It always was.”
The pieces had been working slowly through her opium-addled mind, but when they finally clicked, the epiphany came like a shock of cold water.
How had it taken her this long to figure this out? There was a reason why she’d always felt uncomfortable championing the Republic. The vision of a democratic government was an artificial construct, teetering on the implausibility of Vaisra’s promises.
But the real base of opposition came from the people who had lost the most under Imperial rule. The people who, by now, hated Vaisra the most.
Somewhere out there, hiding within the wreckage of Rooster Province, was a little girl, terrified and alone. She was choking on her hopelessness, disgusted by her weakness, and burning with rage. And she would do anything to get the chance to fight, to really fight, even if that meant losing control of her own mind.
And there were millions more like her.
The magnitude of this realization was dizzying.
The maps of war rearranged themselves in Rin’s mind. The provincial lines disappeared. Everything was merely black and red—privileged aristocracy against stark poverty. The numbers rebalanced, and the war she’d thought she was fighting suddenly looked very, very different.
She’d seen the resentment on the faces of her people. The glare in their eyes when they dared to look up. They were not a people grasping for power. Their rebellion would not fracture over stupid personal ambitions. They were a people who refused to be killed, and that made them dangerous.