Because the Phoenix had not left her when she crawled out of that temple. The Phoenix spoke to her even now, a constant presence in her mind, hungry and frenzied. It had been ecstatic, out there on the deck. It had seen the cloud of ash and read it as worship.
Rin could not separate her thoughts from the Phoenix’s desire. She could resist it, in which case she thought she’d go mad. Or she could embrace it and love it.
That was, after all, where she belonged.
Jiang would say that self-immurement was the noble thing to do.
She would never step voluntarily into the Chuluu Korikh, not while the Empress Su Daji walked this earth. Not while Feylen ran free.
She was the only one powerful enough to stop them, because she had now attained a power that Altan had only ever dreamed of.
She saw now that the Phoenix was right: Altan
Altan’s anger was wild and undirected; he was a walking vessel for the Phoenix. He never had any choice in his quest for vengeance. Altan could not negotiate with the god like she did.
She was sane, she was convinced of it. She was whole. She had lost much, yes, but she still had her own mind. She made her
decisions. She
But if she wanted her thoughts to herself, then she had to think nothing at all. If she wanted a reprieve from the Phoenix’s bloodlust, she needed the pipe.
She mused out loud to the darkness as she sucked in that sickly sweet drug.
In, out. In, out.
Was she now a goddess or a monster?
Perhaps neither. Perhaps both.
Rin was curled up on her bed when the twins finally boarded the ship. She did not know they had even arrived until they appeared at her cabin door unannounced.
“So you made it,” Chaghan said.
She sat up. They had caught her in a rare state, a sober state. She had not touched the pipe for hours, but only because she had been asleep.
Qara dashed inside and embraced her.
Rin accepted the embrace, eyes wide in shock. Qara had always been so reticent. So distant. She lifted her arm awkwardly, trying to decide if she should pat Qara on the shoulder.
But Qara drew back just as abruptly.
“You’re burning,” she said.
“I can’t turn it off,” Rin said. “It’s with me. It’s always with me.”
Qara touched Rin’s shoulders softly. She gave her a knowing look, a pitying look. “You went to the temple.”
“I did it,” Rin said. “That cloud of ash. That was me.”
“I know,” Qara said. “We felt it.”
“Feylen,” she said abruptly. “Feylen’s out, Feylen escaped, we tried to stop him but—”
“We know,” said Chaghan. “We felt that, too.”
He stood stiffly at the doorway. He looked as if he were choking on something.
“Where’s Altan?” he finally asked.
She said nothing. She just sat there, matching his gaze.
Chaghan blinked and made a noise like an animal that had been kicked.
“That’s not possible,” he said very quietly.
“He’s dead, Chaghan,” Rin said. She felt very tired. “Give it up. He’s gone.”
“But I would have felt it. I would have
“That’s what we all think,” she said flatly.
“You’re lying.”
“Why would I? I was there. I saw it happen.”
Chaghan abruptly stalked out of the room and slammed the door behind him.
Qara glanced down at Rin. She didn’t wear her normal irate expression then. She just looked sad.
“You understand,” she said.
Rin more than understood.
“What did you do? What happened?” she asked Qara finally.
“We won the war in the north,” said Qara, twisting her hands in her lap. “We followed orders.”
Altan’s last, desperate operation had involved not one but two prongs. To the south, he had taken Rin to open the Chuluu Korikh. And to the north, he sent the twins.
They had flooded the Murui River. That river delta Rin had seen from the spirit realm was the Four Gorges Dam, the largest set of levees that held the Murui back from inundating all four surrounding provinces with river water. Altan had ordered the breaking of the levees to divert the river south into an older channel, cutting off the Federation supply route to the south.
