Nisong set her sights on the next island, visible on the horizon. That one was larger than the islands they’d conquered so far. She thought of the map and oriented herself by the sun peeking through the clouds. Ah yes, Luangon. Known for its cliffside caves and its riotously spicy eel in hot oil. They’d know the construct army was coming, and they had a larger population. And Luangon had a witstone mine – a small one, but enough to provide the citizens with a higher standard of living. There would be people specifically trained to fight, with better weapons. But Nisong had more constructs now too, with the ability to make more. And Imperial would not be able to send reinforcements in time.

She’d sent Grass on ahead in the smallest sailboat she could find, instructing her to land somewhere uninhabited and to make her way to the island’s capital from there. She’d sent more than one spy construct over only to have them shot at with arrows. They were too obviously constructs and were conspicuous as spies.

Grass looked like a harmless old woman. She’d be able to get in closer, to listen in on conversations, to judge the size of the force they’d be facing. It had been more difficult than Nisong had thought it would be to send Grass away. Of the original constructs who’d helped her escape Maila, only Coral, Leaf and Grass were left. They’d lost more constructs than Nisong liked to admit during this advance.

“Some of the survivors are fleeing the island. They’re taking boats from the harbor,” Leaf said to her. “What should I tell the constructs?”

“Leave them alone and let them flee,” Nisong said. Her appetite for violence was fading. “Someone needs to tell Luangon that we are coming and that we have no mercy. They will have seen the smoke from the fires but they don’t know exactly what has happened here.” She focused on next steps. “Coral, have the shamblers gather the bodies in the palace courtyard. Leaf, get the beasts and round up the survivors. We need more shards.”

Coral moved to obey, and Nisong followed Leaf into the streets. She’d been able to rescue some opium from a shop before they’d started the fires. At least they’d be able to keep the people quiet as they harvested their shards. It would be easier on everyone this way. She watched out of the corner of her eye as Coral directed the shamblers. Not all of them obeyed. Nisong had instructed them to obey Coral and Leaf, but spoken commands didn’t have as much staying power as carved ones. She’d have to reiterate that command later; there simply weren’t enough shards to spare.