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Then there was a cool press of lips against her forehead, the same coolness that Jiang had forced into her during her Trials, and the fire inside her died.
Rin had simply been relieved that Nezha wasn’t dead. She hadn’t considered that the alternative might be worse. “I hope he dies,” Kitay said suddenly.
“It’s okay,” he said. “I know. I know what it’s like. I’m going to help you.”
And as long as you could find the southern star of the Phoenix, you could always find your way back to Speer.”
past her waist in a thick, dark braid. Her features were oddly elongated, not quite Nikara but not quite anything that Rin could put her finger on. A massive hunting falcon sat perched on her left shoulder,
Khurdalain was Nikan’s window to the rest of the world.
Rin couldn’t help liking the scrawny urchin, who reminded her of a younger Kitay, if Kitay had been a one-eyed pyromaniac with an unfortunate adoration for explosions.
Ramsa nodded cheerfully. “Worst two years of my life. Near the tail end, the Empress paid me a visit and said she’d let me out if I worked on munitions for the Cike.”
Baji’s the most competent, and probably should be the commander, but he gets distracted by anything with legs.
Chaghan’s a walking psychospiritual bomb, but only when he’s here.”
Amateurs obsess over strategy, Irjah had once told their class. Professionals obsess over logistics.
When the smoke cleared, nothing remained of Zhabei but ashes.
“Not this god,” said the Woman. “The nature of this god is to destroy. The nature of this god is to be greedy, to never be satisfied with what he has consumed.
As if he could sense her gaze, Nezha looked up. Their eyes met under the moonlight. Rin’s heart leaped.
“You’re really all better?” “Near enough,” said Nezha. “They sent me down with the next shipment of soldiers as soon as I could walk.”
Rin was deeply grateful for Nezha’s presence. As much as they had hated each other at the Academy, Rin found comfort in having someone else from her class here on the other side of the country, so far away from Sinegard.
Rin found herself wondering why they hadn’t become friends sooner.
“Have you been crying?” Nezha demanded as he sat down across from her. “Go away,” she mumbled.
was the war orphan from the south, and you were the rich kid from Sinegard, and you tormented me. You made Sinegard a living hell, Nezha.” It felt good to say it out loud.
The books claim that the chimei can imitate just about anyone—people you care about, people you could never hurt.”
“They’re anchor twins. Some sort of . . . ah, some kind of spiritual link,” said Baji.

