“Wren’s battalion,” Lova corrected.
His teeth were gritted. “Yes. And having been Lord Hanno’s chief army Commander for over twenty years—”
Nitta pulled a face. “Getting along a bit for a warrior, aren’t you?”
“—I imagine your ladyship would appreciate my advice as to the coming battle. Lord Hanno has outlined a detailed plan of attack—”
“Then I think that should be good enough, Commander, don’t you?” With a patronizing wave, Lova stole Wren away. “Come on. You can deal with Chang later. Tien demanded we bring you straight to her when you arrived. Says if you’re to lead us into battle tomorrow you had better be properly nourished. And I don’t know about you, but that woman scares me eight thousand times more than Chang.”
“Wren!” Nitta exclaimed, grabbing her attention. “Look what I learned to do!”
Nitta was leaning so far back in her chair it looked as if she’d fall out any second. Then, with a swift jerk, she tipped to one side to balance on one wheel. She spun, head thrown back in laughter.
A group of nearby soldiers let out an appreciative whoop.
Nitta grinned. “See? Even better than legs.”
Though Wren felt a guilty tug, she returned Nitta’s smile. She couldn’t believe how well Nitta had adapted to her situation. Or rather, she could, because it was Nitta. This was the demon who’d lost her brother yet had pushed on with their mission without complaint. The demon who always had a kind word for anyone who needed it, even if they had none to offer in return.
“It’s amazing,” Wren told her.
Lova rolled her eyes. “If you want to join the circus. You’re a warrior, Nitta. I didn’t make the chair for silly tricks.”
Nitta ignored her. “Bo would be so jealous,” she said, with the tiniest crack of grief.
Wren clasped her shoulder. “He would be so proud.”
As Nitta beamed at her, Lova leaned in. “We’ve got a lot to get caught up on,” she muttered.
Wren immediately braced for bad news. “What happened?”
“I’ll tell you in a minute. Anyway, how did things go on your end? Seemed the prison break went well—though I saw Feathers made it back alive. Suppose you can’t win them all.”
As they neared the kitchen, Wren slowed, but Lova steered her on past the crowd milling about the bubbling pots.
“Lo, I thought you said—”
“Wait,” she hissed. “He’s still following. Ugh. I was hoping he’d have given up by now.” She angled her head. “Nitta?”
“On it.”
The leopard-girl dropped back. There was a blast of steam as one of the cooks lifted the lid of a pot of curry, and as they disappeared within the warm pillows of vapor there was a crash behind them and a yowl of pain.
“Oh, Commander,” Nitta chirped, “I am so sorry! I’m so clumsy these days, you know, this big ol’ thing.”
Wren spotted Tien throwing a towel over her shoulder and storming toward the mess Nitta had created.
Lova and Wren slipped through the mob of hungry clan members. Then they were out, food-scented steam billowing behind them as Lova drew Wren away from the tent. The nighttime chill pricked goosebumps along her skin, along with the buzz of perimeter enchantments the Hanno shamans had set.
“Lo,” Wren said, twisting from Lova’s hold when they were a good way from the camp, “if my father trusts Chang, then so do I. We don’t have to like the man, but whatever you’ve got to say, we shouldn’t have to hide it from him.”
“I’m not. I’m hiding him from you.”
Their war-tent was pitched in an expanse of fields a few miles out of Marazi. Wren was distracted from Lova’s odd statement as, eyes adjusting to the dim light, she began to make out other settlements nearby. The refugee camps. People who’d lost homes and work to the Sickness had flocked to Marazi for help, when in actuality they’d been all but ignored. It was terrible, but it offered the Hannos the perfect hiding place.
The shelters were spread out in haphazard bunches of tents, some lit with lanterns, most shadowed. A few sported flags with clan crests, though in the dark Wren couldn’t make them out. They no doubt mostly belonged to Paper clans, though according to everything she’d heard, more demon clans were being displaced by the effects of the Sickness, fueling rifts between Steels and Moons over which side of the war to support.
The settlements were more tightly knit the closer they grew to the city.
Marazi. Han’s capital.
Unlike the Hidden Palace, Marazi had no perimeter walls. Instead, it’d been built in the middle of the River Zebe on a great spur of earth that split the river in two, the water and the rocky bluffs acting as the capital’s barricades. With only four bridges leading in—one at each compass point—and its high advantage, the city was well defended. Over time, Marazi’s population had expanded, spilling past the river’s borders, though the densely packed buildings along the banks across the waters were not as elegant as those within. They made up the New City, home to Marazi’s poorer districts. The area within the river’s borders was known as the Old City, where the capital’s wealthier residents lived.
The glow of Marazi’s lights were hazy, wreathed in mist rising from the river. Wren’s heart hammered. Tomorrow, in just a few hours, their army would be there, right where those lights were—with her at the helm.
“It’s poisoned,” Lova said.
They were standing side by side, staring across the camps to the dim glitter of the distant capital.
“I know,” Wren said, thinking of the ugly current that lay at the heart of everything the King and his demons did across Ikhara.
“No. I mean it’s actually poisoned. The river. The water.”
Wren turned. “What?”
“Your father had Chang and a small group of soldiers ride out early to poison the river,” Lova explained heavily. “Marazi gets its water from the Zebe. It feeds through channels into reservoirs beneath the Old City. There are filters, but Ketai must have gotten his spies within the city to damage them. None of us were supposed to know, but when we arrived yesterday there were bodies in the river—too many to be coincidence. Papers from the camps. They must have been drinking from the river. Chang gave us strict orders not to do so ourselves. Now we know why.”
Wren’s throat was tight. “You’re sure?”
Lova’s mouth twisted. “I didn’t even have to force it out of him. When I confronted him, he was practically boasting—Wren! Wait!”
Wren had begun to charge off without thought. Lova grabbed her. Wren threw her off with a burst of power that crackled the air between them, snapping awake the pain in her hips.
“There are innocent people in that city, Lo!” she shouted. “And the camps—”
“Wren,” Lova said evenly, “this is war. I don’t approve of Ketai going behind our backs to do it, and I certainly don’t like Chang’s attitude, but you have to admit, it was a good idea—”