Page 78 of Cloak of Night
“Yes. I’m willing to bet she’s being held prisoner inside Dera Falls, and I think we should go save her.”
“What about Prince Gin, though?” Daemon asked. “Isn’t the priority to get the soul back inside him so we can kill him?”
“It is,” Sora said, “but I also want to get it right because we might have only one chance, and I need more time to figure out how to get close enough to him to do it. I’ve been racking my brain since he first gave his soul to Zomuri, and I still haven’t found an answer. Maybe Empress Aki can help us, though. She’s his sister; she might know a weakness about him that we can exploit.”
Daemon nodded. “Good point. So as soon as Fairy’s well enough...”
Sora grinned. “We go on a rescue mission.”
Chapter Forty
Thoma was a sweet potato–shaped island across the ocean from Kichona. It was small but famed for its navy and had been an independent kingdom for two centuries.
Until today. Gin hopped off the rowboat that brought him to shore and surveyed his first conquered territory. The Thomasian navy had fought fiercely, but they were no match for his ryuu and their new ships. Without a pause, Gin’s gaze swept over the palm trees and the crystalline blue waters of the lagoons that surrounded the island and landed swiftly on the prisoners lined up on the beach.
Tidepool, the ryuu who had led the attack, jogged over to Gin.
“What are our casualties?” Gin asked.
“Two, Your Majesty,” she said. “Steeltoe and Morning Glory.”
He frowned. Steeltoe, in particular, had been useful. She’d been working on a new kind of armor for the ryuu.But Gin shrugged it off; giving up his soul made it easy to ignore any pangs of conscience at damning two of his soldiers to the hells. Besides, losses were expected in war, and since the ryuu were fighting ordinary soldiers—not taigas—they didn’t have much use for traditional weapons and armor like Steeltoe had been working on. Gin’s armies had simply overwhelmed Thoma’s navy with magic.
He tilted his chin at the prisoners kneeling in the sand. “Are they ready to submit to a new ruler?”
“Unfortunately,” Tidepool said, “they’re true to the reputation of Thomasians—clever as dolphins, fierce as orcas, and obstinate as old barnacles. But their defiance is nothing you can’t fix with your powers, Your Majesty.”
Gin began to make his way over to them, sinking a little in the sand. Yes, he could brainwash the sailors. But there was also a prideful part of him that wanted to win them over on his own instead. The rulers of vast empires past hadn’t needed to brainwash all the citizens in order to rule their lands. And the taigas who’d sided with him a decade ago during the Blood Rift—the warriors who became the original ryuu—had also believed in Gin willingly.
It might be amusing to try winning the Thomasian sailors over first.
“Prisoners!” Tidepool shouted. “Bow for your new emperor, His Majesty, Gin Ora!”
The Thomasian navy assembled on the beach refused to bow. They glared as Gin stopped in front of them, and the ryuu who guarded them began to kick them in the backs to force them to bend in respect.
Gin raised a hand and shook his head. “That won’t be necessary. And let them stand.”
His ryuu grumbled but obeyed.
When the prisoners were all on their feet, Gin put on a kind smile, one without a trace of arrogance or condescension.
“Honorable sailors of Thoma, you have fought valiantly, and I respect that. I visited your kingdom with my father when I was a child, and I remember the grand spectacle of your ships sailing in formation to welcome us and escort us to your beautiful island. From then on, I admired your navy and your people, and I always hoped to return some day.”
The prisoners’ expressions were still stiff. Gin had to soften them more.
“I understand that today may feel like a defeat,” he said, pacing before them. “But I urge you to think of it differently. You are not familiar with our gods, but one of them has promised us the Evermore—a paradise on earth—if I can unite Kichona and the entire mainland. Therefore, I do not come here as a conqueror”—this part was a lie, of course—“but as an equal to your Tsarina Austine, seeking a partnership for our two kingdoms.”
Most of the sailors’ faces remained hard with skepticism, but some of the younger ones had begun to soften, their fists no longer clenched, eyes less narrow.
“To prove this to you, I have dispatched an invitation to Tsarina Austine for a summit, in which she and I—and our brightest advisers—will discuss our kingdoms’ futures together.”
One of the older sailors, whose skin was as rough as hide from a lifetime in the biting wind of the sea, said, “How do we know you won’t kill her as soon as she agrees to meet you?”
Gin let his eyes and entire countenance droop, as if he were saddened by the accusation. “I suppose the cynical answer is that, if I wanted Tsarina Austine dead, it would have already happened. You’ve seen what my ryuu can do. It is no easy feat to win a battle against the world-famous Thomasian navy, and yet here we stand.
“But I reiterate: I want our kingdoms to work together. You’ll have autonomy to keep running your crews as you are accustomed, and the people of Thoma will continue their lives as they’ve known them. The only difference is you will have the benefit of Kichona as a partner, and we will have the benefit of Thoma. What say you?”
“Are we allowed to discuss it?” a young sailor asked.
