The Ravani knelt wherever he walked. As he turned down a street, heading back to the command center, their whispers followed, and Samson welcomed it. He touched the head of a child who gazed up at him with big, curious eyes. Beckoning to the child, he blew out a smoke ring and shot a single flame through it, much to the delight of the child’s friends. Their awe sent a hot rush of satisfaction through him, even as his bones ached.
It was all a show. That was what the others—Elena, Farin, the great royal families—did not understand. They had been born into their power and their performance had become their truth. They believed their sovereignty was not an act, but a god-given right. But prophets and kings were shallow, hollow titles. Samson knew that once that illusion was broken, once the promise of safety and control was reneged, they would tear him apart as quickly as they kissed his feet.
The Ravani bowed to him now, but they were a fierce people. Proud, unwilling to lose. In a way, they reminded him of Sesharians.
They all relied on him. The Sesharian puppet turned into a general. They had come to him because, somehow, he had made them believe he was the right man to forge a new history. A world where every man was free.
But was he? Samson looked down at his hands as his body throbbed, the pain a restless visitor beneath the sweet narcotics. Was he strong enough to withstand the madness? Sparks blazed between his fingers. He drew on his pipe and let out a shaky breath as he ascended the hall steps. Even now, he could feel the inferno’s hunger. It was an insidious sensation, nibbling his stomach with soft kisses.
“There you are.”
He looked up to see Visha standing in the entrance. She had switched out her black gloves for long crimson ones, creating the illusion of being soaked in blood, wrist to elbow. The image fit her.
“Which poor soul did you gut out today?” he asked.
“Well, it would have been the ambassador, but our fair queen has whisked him away for a tour of the city.”
I’ll see you later tonight, Prophet, Elena had told him. Secretly, he looked forward to it.
Visha nodded to his pipe. “Can I?”
He took one last pull, and then breathed smoke out his nostrils. Visha retrieved the pipe and had a long draw.
She exhaled slowly, and for a moment, the smoke curled around her cheeks. It reminded him of when he had found her burning poisonous incense outside a Jantari officer’s quarters. She closed her eyes, nodded once.
“Right.” She handed the pipe back to him. “Finish it before you come inside. You’ll need it.”
He eyed her warily. “What kind of battle strategy did you draft this time?”
She gave her thin, vicious grin, the same one that had compelled him to join her and smoke out the officer. “The best you’ve ever seen.”
“That is the stupidest idea I’ve ever heard,” Chandi said.
Visha scowled. “It’s ballsy, but it’ll work.”
“It exposes us to the Jantari,” Akino said. “We’re primed to get fucked.”
“You would know.”
Akino gave her a scathing look. “I swear, the Jantari and I were drunk—”
“Enough, you two.” Chandi scowled, turning to Samson. “This is too much, General.”
“Are you all right?” Akino asked, peering at Samson. “You look pale.”
“It’s nothing.” Samson sat forward, though sweat broke down his spine. “Start from the top again, Visha.”
Visha winked at Chandi and pointed at a mountain passage that began along the Cyleoni border. It began to glow in red. “The only way into Jantar is this mountain pass from Cyleon. The Jantari will be patrolling their side of the valley, but according to our intel from miners, there’s an underground tunnel entrance hidden within this bluff.”
She zoomed in on the holomap, indicating a tall, carved mountain wall. “We don’t know what the entrance looks like—”
“And you still think this is a good plan?” Chandi asked Samson.
“—but at least we know where it is,” Visha continued, glaring at Chandi. “This tunnel creeps under the mountain pass and leads to the northwestern forest surrounding Mine One.”
“The Jantari will have that tunnel covered,” Chandi said. “We’ll be crawling toward a trap.”
“Not if we spring a trap on them,” Visha said.
