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Beyond that, they’d also lost a good deal of their imported supplies, which forced the army onto even poorer rations than they’d been subsisting on. They were surviving on rice gruel and yams now, two things that Baji declared he would never touch again after this war was over. As it was, they were more likely to chew down handfuls of raw rice than receive fully cooked meals from the mess hall.
Jun’s frontline units were inching backward, and suffering heavy casualties while doing so. The Federation took stronghold after stronghold on the riverbank. The water of the creek had been red for days, forcing Jun to send out men to bring back barrels of water not contaminated by putrefied corpses.
Apart from downtown Khurdalain, the Nikara still occupied three crucial buildings on the wharf—two warehouses and a former Hesperian trading office—but their increasingly limited manpower was spread too thin to hold the buildings indefinitely.
At least they had shattered fantasies of an early Federation victory. They knew from intercepted missives that Mugen had expected to take Khurdalain within a week. But the siege had now stretched on for months. Rin realized in the abstract that the longer they fended Mugen off at Khurdalain, the more time Golyn Niis had to assemble defenses. They had already bought more time than they could have hoped for.
But that didn’t make Khurdalain feel like any less of an utter defeat.
“One more thing,” she said.
Altan nodded jerkily for her to continue.
She spoke quickly. “The Fifth wanted a meeting about the beach offensive. They want to move it up before they lose any more troops at the warehouse. The day after tomorrow at the latest.”
Altan raised an eyebrow. “Why is the Fifth conveying a request through you?”
The request had actually been conveyed through Nezha, speaking on behalf of his father, the Dragon Warlord, whom Jun had approached because he didn’t want to give Altan legitimacy by going to his headquarters. Rin found the interdivisional politics incredibly annoying, but could do nothing about it.
“Because at least one of them likes me. Sir.”
Altan blinked. Rin immediately regretted speaking.
Before he could answer, a scream shattered the morning air.
Altan reached the top of the sentry tower first, but Rin was right behind him, her heart pounding furiously. Had there been an attack? But she saw no Federation soldiers in the vicinity, no arrows flying overhead . . .
Qara lay collapsed on the floor of the tower. She was alone. As they watched, she writhed against the stone floor, making low, tortured moans in the back of her throat. Her eyes had rolled back in her head. Her limbs seized uncontrollably.
Rin had never seen anyone react to a wound like this. Had Qara been poisoned? But why would the Federation target a sentry, and no one else? Rin and Altan instinctively crouched low, out of the line of potential fire, but there were no subsequent arrows, if there had even been a first. Except for Qara’s twitching, they saw no disturbances at all.
Altan dropped to his knees. He grasped Qara by her shoulders, dragging her to a sitting position. “What’s wrong? What’s happened?”
“It hurts . . .”
Altan shook her hard. “Answer me.”
Qara just moaned again. Rin was stunned by how roughly Altan treated her, despite her obvious agony. But, she realized belatedly, Qara had no visible injuries. There was no blood on the ground, or on her clothes.
Altan smacked Qara’s face lightly to get her attention. “Is he back?”
Rin looked between them in confusion. Who was he talking about? Qara’s brother?
Qara’s face twisted in agony, but she managed to nod.
Altan cursed under his breath. “Is he hurt? Where is he?”
Chest heaving, Qara clenched the front of Altan’s tunic. Her eyes were squeezed shut, as if she was concentrating on something.
“The east gate,” she managed. “He’s here.”
By the time Rin had helped Qara down the stairs, Altan had disappeared from sight.
She looked up and saw archers of the Fifth Division standing frozen at the top of the wall, arrows fitted to their bows. Rin could hear clashing steel on the other side, but none of the soldiers were shooting.
Altan had to be on the other side. Were they afraid they might hit him? Or were they just unwilling to help?
She helped Qara to a sitting position by the nearest wall and made a mad dash up to the wall overlooking the east gate.
On the other side of the gate, an entire squadron of Federation soldiers clustered around Altan. He fought astride a horse, slashing his way through in a frenzied effort to get back to the gate. His arms moved faster than Rin’s eyes could follow. His trident flashed once, twice in the noon sun, glistening with blood. Each time he wrenched it back out, a Federation soldier collapsed.
The crowd of soldiers thinned as soldier after soldier dropped, and finally Rin saw the reason why Altan had not summoned his flames. A young man was seated in front of him on the horse, sagging back against his arms. His face and chest were covered with blood. His skin had turned the same pallid white as his hair. For a moment Rin thought—hoped—that he was Jiang, but this man was shorter, visibly younger, and much thinner.
Altan was taking on the Federation soldiers as best he could, but they had backed him up against the gate.
Down below, Rin saw the Cike had gathered on the other side.
“Open the doors!” Baji shouted. “Let them back through!”
The soldiers exchanged reluctant looks and did nothing.
“What are you waiting for?” Qara shrieked.
“Jun’s orders,” one of them stammered. “We’re not to open it at any cost—”
Rin looked back over the wall and saw another squadron of Federation reinforcements rapidly approaching. She leaned over the wall and waved her hands to get Baji’s attention. “There are more coming!”
“Fuck it.” Baji kicked one of the soldiers out of his way, jammed the butt of his rake into the stomach of another, and began cranking the gate open himself while Suni fended off the guards behind him.
The heavy doors inched ponderously open.
Standing directly behind the opening crack, Qara whipped arrow after arrow out of her quiver, firing them rapidly one after the next into the crowd of Federation soldiers. Under a hail of arrow fire, the Mugenese fell back long enough for Altan to squeeze through the blockade.
Baji cranked the gates the other way until they slammed shut.
Altan yanked on the reins, forcing his horse to a sudden stop.
Qara ran up to him, shouting in a language Rin didn’t understand. Her tirade was interspersed with a variety of colorful Nikara invectives.
Altan held up a hand to silence her. He dismounted in one fluid movement, and then helped the young man down. The man staggered as his legs touched the ground; he slumped against the horse for support. Altan offered him a shoulder, but the man shook him off.
“Is he there?” Altan demanded. “Did you see him?”
Chest heaving, the man nodded.
“Do you have schematics?” Altan asked.
The man nodded again.
What were they talking about? Rin shot Unegen a questioning glance, but Unegen was equally nonplussed.
“Okay,” Altan said. “Okay. So. You’re an idiot.”
Then he and Qara both began yelling at him.
