A break appeared in the lines to her right, near the switchbacks. She peered over the soldiers’ heads. A woman stood on the path, facing off against a man in a monk’s robes. Nisong squinted against the rain. Was that Lin? Down here, among the soldiers? She felt her teeth clench as her focus shifted. She wanted to smash her cudgel into that woman’s skull. The crack and crunch of shattering bone, the wet sound of flesh beneath. If she could just make it there. One death to pay for four. For Shell, for Frond, for Leaf and for Grass. Nisong laid about with her weapon, urging her beasts to fight faster, harder.

And then the monk lifted his hands and the surrounding rain halted in its tracks, pulled toward him by some invisible force. He beckoned and it formed into a wave.

Everything seemed to shrink to just the taste of copper on her lips, the feel of water trickling down her neck.

Alanga. So it was true. They were returning. And one was here on the battlefield, fighting the Emperor. Speculation on his motives could wait. She redoubled her efforts. One of her war constructs whined as a soldier struck its flanks with his sword. Another one fell, shrieking, as its throat was slit. Nisong moved to fill the gaps, her hand with the two missing fingers slipping a little on the cudgel. She readjusted her grip. They could make it. Her shamblers were marching up the slope.

The ground shook.

Nisong struggled to keep her feet beneath her as the earth rippled. Mud loosened, making the ground liquid and viscous, sending gravel flying. “Forward! Advance!” she cried out. But words couldn’t make it so. She pulled a foot loose from the muddy ground and nearly left behind a boot.

A soldier jabbed at her with his sword. Nisong swung and barely turned the blade aside in time. She’d lost another war construct during the quake.

Before she could recover, the ground shook again.

She dug her fingers into the fur on a bear construct’s back, steadying herself, and dared a glance down the switchbacks.

Her shamblers were like flies stuck in honey. Many had fallen during the quakes, sticking in the mud or tumbling down the slopes. It doesn’t matter, Nisong told herself. They were merely meant to be a distraction. The bulk of her war constructs were at the gates now.

If they took Gaelung, they could make a move on Hualin Or and then Imperial. Gaelung had a large population. So many bodies. So many bones. There’d be no stopping them. They’d bring the Empire to its knees.

And then what? Coral’s voice spoke in the back of her mind.

Nisong shook her head, baring her teeth as she bore down on another soldier. And then they would have justice. And then they could rest.