Page 104 of Scorched Earth

“Why isn’t he doing something about this?” she grumbled to herself, touching the tiny ship resting against her cheek, where it had been since Marcus had put it there. “If this carries on, we’re going to have legions fighting legions in the streets of Aracam.”

“It is a bit out of character.” The amusement in Quintus’s voice caused her to glance sharply at him as he added, “One might almost wonder if it were by design.”

“To what end?” she demanded. “Is he trying to convince any spies watching that he’s so disorganized that he’s not a threat? They’ve been watching this camp for months; there is no chance that they’re going to be fooled.”

Quintus lifted one shoulder. “How should I know? It’s not like Marcus shares his plans with me.”

Or with her.

Teriana’s already tense muscles balled into tighter knots of anxiety. “Don’t give me excuses, Quintus. You have fought under his command all your life—you have at least an idea of what he’s planning.”

Quintus shoved his helmet back down on his head. “The only thing I know for certain is that the plan that was communicated to the legionisn’tMarcus’s plan. Other than Felix and Servius, and possibly Nic, I suspect not a single soul knows the entirety of what he’s got cooked up in his head. I’d hazard that even Zimo has only been given instructions pertaining to his part in all of this. All we can do is wait and see how it plays out.”

Out of the corner of her eye, the black tower of the Seventh moved.

Teriana stumbled into Quintus, a gasp of horror tearing from her lips because the tower was leaning over Aracam, the eyes carved into it watching the legions with cruel malevolence. Then she blinked, and it was standing straight again.

“Did you see it move?” Quintus said quietly.

“Yes.” It felt like lunacy to admit, but though the legionnaires were all carrying on as they had, Teriana had seen what she had seen.

“I’ve seen it.” Her friend eyed the tower. “And I’ve heard others muttering the same. The Arinoquians say it is sentient, a vessel for the Seventh god, but the centurions say it’s just heat sickness getting to those on duty.”

“It’s not heat sickness.” Her throat was dry. “Tearing down the other towers gave the Seventh god power here. They need to be rebuilt.”

“That’s not going to happen.”

Teriana rubbed her hands up and down her arms, chilled. All of this was on her. All of it.

Turning back to the harbor, she asked, “How long has he been negotiating with Queen Erdene?”

How long has Katamarca been an ally of the Empire?

“Queen Erdene made overtures to Titus not long after you two disappeared,” Quintus said. “She wanted formal trade terms with the Senate once paths between the East and West were safely established, likely assuming that the best terms will go to the first movers.”

“What’s in it for her?”

Quintus shrugged. “The Katamarcans seemed eager to be the Senate’s new allies. Titus suggested they become the first Cel province in the West.”

“I take it Titus failed to mention that Erdene would be deposed so a Cel senator can assume governorship?”

“I’m sure he kept that to himself,” Quintus answered. “Though it’s possible she knows. The Maarin aren’t holding back, if the rumors coming into Aracam’s ports are accurate. Katamarca’s military is weak, so she likely hopes by aiding the Empire in a move north, we’ll spend our strength against Gamdesh, giving her a fighting chance if we ever look south. In a sea of poor options, she chose the most intelligent path.”

“How is this intelligent?” she demanded, well aware of her own hypocrisy given she wasalsoan ally to the Empire.

Quintus didn’t answer, and Teriana glanced at Marcus, only to find him still at the end of the docks, crimson cloak swirling on the breeze, the gold thread of the dragon gleaming in the sun. His helmet was tucked under his arm, armor freshly polished, but even from this distance, she could tell he was tired. And no wonder, because in the days since he’d fired back at everyone who’d thought he’d lost his nerve, he’d not ceased working. The flow of information coming in and out of the camp had been nonstop. Messages from spies up and down the coast. Messages from the Empire, which all came viaheavily armed escort. Messages he sent back, guarded with equal care. From dawn until well past the midnight hour, and though he seemed steady on his feet, the way Racker had been storming about camp recently told Teriana everything she needed to know about the surgeon’s thoughts on the matter.

Teriana, next time, don’t break.

She touched the tiny ship, remembering the feel of his fingers braiding her hair. He hadn’t meant that he needed her to hold her ground when faced with a charge on a battlefield. He’d meant that she needed to trust that he had her back, no matter what came next. And that she had his, even if the gulf between them was as wide as ever.

She did trust him. Yet seeing those Katmarcan naval vessels sail into the harbor demonstrated just how hard rolling back this invasion would be after her people were freed. “I suppose it never occurred to me that any of the rulers in the West would ally with the Empire,” she said. “I believed they’d fight until the end.”

Her skin crawled, and Teriana shifted her gaze from Marcus to the Corruptor’s tower, but it stood static. Nothing but stone.

Quintus sighed. “What Katamarca faces is something I’ve only known from the side of the conqueror. It has been so long since anyoneattackedCelendor that, if not for history books, it would be lost to memory. We are always the attackers, always the invaders, always on the offense, so we don’t even think of what it’s like tobeinvaded. What it’s like making choices to protect our own people. What it feels like to protect. That said, my gut tells me that Erdene took a look at the odds, and this is her roll of the dice.”

Teriana watched the Thirty-First slowly board the massive ship. There were ten vessels, all of which would cost a small fortune to build. Katamarca hadn’t rolled the dice—they were all in. The only uncertainty was how Marcus intended to use them.