Leti lay facedown, arms splayed, with a hole the size of a gold eagle in the back of her head. Winter dropped to her knees, eyes filling with tears.
Again.
They always trust me. And then they die.
*
She wasn’t sure how long she lay there. Eventually, something drove her to her feet, the part of her mind that kept her alive while the rest was broken. Kollowrath would be back, with more men, and she couldn’t be around when he arrived.
Leti was dead. Elka was dead, eyes still open in blank, blank surprise. Seka was dead, along with the Murnskai soldier who’d killed her, tangled together in a gory mess. The soldier with the spear through his throat had long ago stopped twitching.
Yath was alive, the musket ball having punched clean through the meat of her thigh but missed the bone. She sat up when Winter staggered over, and gritted her teeth while Winter tied a makeshift bandage around the wound. It still leaked blood, but Yath managed to stand up with one arm around Winter’s shoulder, and they made reasonably good speed to the edge of the wood. Looking back, Winter could see soldiers running along the wall walk, but the gates were still closed. Lucky for us Kollowrath’s a coward. She wanted to sob, but it stuck in her throat.
Once they made the tree line, Winter found a hidden spot in the crook of a dead log, and laid Yath down. The girl was white as a sheet, and Winter didn’t think she’d make it all the way to camp.
“Back,” Winter told her, gesturing. She didn’t know how much Murnskai Yath could understand. “We’ll come to bring you back. The others.”
Yath’s eyes closed. Winter turned and ran in the direction of the camp, cursing her decision to come so far from it, to come here at all, to involve anyone else in her fucking life and its ongoing disasters. She ran until there were spots of gray at the corners of her vision, and she almost didn’t notice that she’d arrived. One of the sentries shouted at her to stop, and she pulled up short, breathing great gulps of air.
“Alex! Abraham!” Winter ignored the sentry, who couldn’t understand her, and raised her voice. Before long, her two companions came running, followed by Vess and a dozen nervous Haeta. Alex pulled up short, eyes widening.
“Winter, are you—”
There was blood spattered all over her, Leti’s and Yath’s and who knew who else’s. “I’m fine,” Winter said. “Yath’s hurt badly. Take Abraham to her as fast as you can.” She described the dead tree.
“I can run,” Abraham said. “My legs are doing better—”
“I can go faster,” Alex said flatly.
“I know.” Abraham looked a little green, but he nodded. “Go ahead.”
Alex put one arm around his waist. She raised her other hand, and a beam of darkness shot out into the forest, anchoring to a distant tree with a crunch. She took a running start, jumped, and let the beam contract, carrying her and Abraham high above the forest floor in a long arc. Another beam snapped out, pulling them farther along, and then they were out of sight, moving much faster than a sprint.
They’ll save her, if she can be saved. Winter’s legs wobbled, and then she was sitting. She was still breathing hard, and her lungs still burned.
Vess pushed forward, past the sentry and the other Haeta.
“What happened?” she demanded. “Where’re Leti and the others?”
Winter hesitated. She might kill me. At that moment, she couldn’t have said she would have begrudged Vess that. I made the decision. I took Leti along. My fault. It rang in her ears. Not just Leti but all the others, Bobby and Jane and names she’d shamefully forgotten. My fault.
“Dead,” Winter said. “The Murnskai... attacked us. Yath and I escaped, but the others...”
She shook her head and closed her eyes, waiting for the scream, the bright pain of a knife at her throat. My fault.
*
“Winter?” Alex’s voice.
Winter opened her eyes. Overhead was the battered canvas of her tent. She lay on her bedroll, curled up on her side. When she tried to stretch out, her abused muscles protested, cramping hard. Alex leaned over, looking worried, as Winter slowly forced her legs to straighten.
“Should I get Abraham?” Alex said. “He’s worn out, but—”
“I’m okay,” Winter panted. “Just... never run quite that far.” She closed her eyes. “What about Yath?”
“She’ll be fine. We got there in time.” Alex hesitated. “There were soldiers out by the gate, dragging... people inside. You’re certain none of the others might have...?”
“Yes,” Winter said. “I made sure, or I wouldn’t have left them there.”
“Of course,” Alex said quickly. “I’m sorry. Leti was... She seemed kind.”
“She was.” Kind, and young, and stupid enough to put her trust in me. Just like you. “What is Vess doing?”
Alex looked away. “You should rest.”
“Alex. Tell me.”
“She’s planning to attack the fortress,” Alex said.
Winter sat up abruptly, then doubled over, clutching her stomach as more cramps seized her.
“That’s crazy,” she coughed out. “There’s got to be a hundred men in there, and they’ll be on guard. She and the Haeta will be killed.”
“I know!” Alex said. “That’s what I told her. But she’s not listening to me anymore.”
“I have to talk to her.” Winter groped around the bedroll for her coat, breathing hard. “I—”
Alex put a hand on her shoulder. “Wait. At least a little while.” She got to her feet. “It’s at least two hours before sunset. I’m going to get Abraham, and we’ll see if he can help with your pain.”
Winter nodded wearily. I’m not going to be able to talk sense into Vess if I can’t stand up. She lay back down, slowly and carefully, while Alex slipped out of the tent. Distantly, she could hear raised voices, arguments in the Haeta language. She recognized Vess’ voice, cold and hard.
Blame me if you need to, Winter wanted to tell her. You don’t have to get yourself killed.
Abraham came in, thin-faced and worn in his battered traveling clothes. He knelt beside Winter and smiled.
“Are you sure you’re up to this?” Winter said. “I’ll live.”
“I’m fine,” Abraham said. “Alex worries too much.” He shook his head. “Having her carry me like that is just... a little hard on my stomach.”
“I can imagine.” Winter remembered the terrifying descent from the tower at Elysium, being supported only by Alex’s power and a few scraps of rope. “Thank you for helping Yath.”
“Thank you for pushing so hard to get to us quickly,” Abraham said. “She had lost a lot of blood. I’m not sure she would have survived much longer.” He put his hands on Winter’s shoulder and hip and closed his eyes. “Now, be quiet for a moment.”
Winter closed her eyes, too. Infernivore perked up, as it always did when someone who carried a demon touched her. She’d grown so used to Alex’s and Abraham’s presence that she barely sensed them anymore unless they were very close by, but physical contact came with the awareness that only an effort of will would be required to send her demon surging into their bodies.
Abraham’s power slowly flowed into her, like cool water running just under her skin. The cramps in her muscles eased, and the burning faded away. She took a deep breath, relishing the lack of pain along her ribs, and blew it out.
“There.” Abraham took his hands away, and she opened her eyes. “I can’t fix everything, but you should be in a lot less pain.”
“Thank you,” Winter said. She sat up, this time much more comfortably, and stretched. “You really do have an incredible gift.”
He bowed his head. “I think I agree with you, though I haven’t always thought so. There are times when it’s brought me... hardship.” He looked up again. “It’s been much the same with you, I imagine.”
“My demon?” Winter looked at her hands. “I suppose so.”
“Your demon is not your only gift. You
would never have come this far if it were.”
She snorted. “In that case, my ‘gift’ is a lot of luck and a knack for getting other people killed.”
“Leti,” Abraham said.
“She’s only the latest. Ever since they made me a sergeant in Khandar, I’ve just been trying to keep my head above water.” Winter felt her eyes filling with tears again. “Bobby trusted me. She’s dead now, along with most of the rest of my company. I found Jane again, dragged her and the girls from the Leatherbacks into this. Now most of them are lying in graves somewhere between here and Desland. I pulled Jane into a life she couldn’t face, and it broke her. I led twenty-five brave women to Elysium when Janus was hurt and left a trail of frozen corpses behind me. And then I led the ones who were left to the fucking Beast of Judgment.” Winter’s jaw trembled, and tears were running hot down her cheeks. “And now Leti. Saints and fucking martyrs. She...” She shook her head. “Why? Why do they trust me? Why do you trust me? I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing. You and Alex ought to go back to the Mountain, before... before...”
Her throat went tight, and she couldn’t say any more. It was like Abraham’s words had been a lance, pressed into an angry boil of guilt until it burst. She’d never said it out loud before, the ugly truth, only kept it in the privacy of her skull.
Abraham was silent, and Winter was suddenly certain he was horrified. He’d trusted her, too, after all, put his faith in her. Now he knows better. I’m just a gibbering mess. She wondered if he’d just leave, take Alex and go. Better for both of them.
She wanted, very badly, for Cyte to be by her side. To feel her arms around her and pull her close. At the same time, she was glad her lover was a thousand miles away. Because she put her faith in me, too.
“There were times,” Abraham said slowly, “when I thought the world would be better off without me. I hurt people—sometimes on purpose, sometimes without meaning to, sometimes just by being who I am. If I hadn’t met Alex, I don’t know...” He stopped, took a deep breath. “Once we made it to the Mountain, I talked to the Eldest about it.”
“Did he give you some pious platitude?” Winter said.
She’d meant it to hurt, but he sounded unruffled. “He told me I’d have to work it out for myself.”
Winter snorted. “Priests and Mages.”
“I did a lot of thinking,” Abraham went on. “When we weigh up the balance sheet of our lives, it’s always easy to see the costs. People we’ve hurt, mistakes we’ve made. But the other side of the balance can be harder to make out. How do you measure what didn’t happen? Friends who didn’t die because of something you did, wars that didn’t start, cities that never burned. That has to count for something, doesn’t it?”
“You can’t know what would have happened,” Winter said. “Maybe everyone would have been better off.”
“It’s possible,” Abraham said placidly. “But you can’t know that for certain, either. Out of all the possible worlds, we can’t know if this is the best, the worst, or somewhere in between. But it’s the one we’ve got.” He shrugged. “The Eldest didn’t have an answer for me, and I don’t have one for you. But I can say why I chose to put my faith in you. You have your gifts—intelligence, leadership, your demon—but more important is that I trust you to try to do the right thing.”
“More fool you,” Winter said, wiping angrily at her eyes.
“Perhaps. But I suspect Bobby and all the others would agree with me. Not that you always succeed, but that you always try.” He got to his feet. “You’re here, after all. Trying to save the world.”
Winter was silent. Abraham bowed his head and left the tent.
*
The sun was nearing the horizon when she emerged, hair washed and face wiped clean. Alex and Abraham were sitting on the ground outside the tent, talking quietly. They both jumped up at the sight of her.
“Winter!” Alex said. “Are you feeling better?”
“A little,” Winter said. She still felt like there was a storm inside her, but she was floating atop it, not drowning in the waves. She caught Abraham’s eye. “Thank you.”
“Like I said”—he smiled—“I don’t have any answers.”
Neither do I. But it didn’t matter, not now. There are people who need saving. One step at a time. “Where’s Vess?”
“She and the others are scouting the wall,” Alex said. “I tried to talk sense into them, but Vess won’t listen. She said that tomorrow night she’s going to attack.”
Tomorrow night. That gave them twenty-four hours. “You said you could get us into the fortress if you had to,” Winter said.
“Meaning the three of us? Sure. Probably not everyone, not without someone noticing.” Alex paused. “If Vess is intent on doing this, we might be able to sneak in and steal a boat in the confusion.”
“I’m not going to abandon them,” Winter said. “I’m not even going to abandon the damned Murnskai, if I can help it. Not when it’s hell on earth coming up behind us.” Although a certain captain may find all his limbs broken.
“So what, then?” Alex said.
“We find a way to get everyone out of here,” Winter said. “And then we convince Vess to take it.”
14
Raesinia
“You knew,” Raesinia said as soon as the door to Dorsay’s suite closed behind her.
“I suspected,” Dorsay said mildly. He wore a brown silk robe and his hair was ruffled, but he seemed unperturbed at finding the Queen of Vordan in his chambers first thing in the morning.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“It’s not my place to reveal Georg’s plans, especially when he hasn’t consulted me about them.” Dorsay shrugged. “I did warn you not to come here.”
“You didn’t warn me he had a marriage alliance in mind.”
Dorsay waved her to one of the armchairs. After a moment of stubborn irritation, Raesinia sighed and sat down, and he settled in opposite her.
“Georg is the kind of man who takes opportunities when they present themselves. If Janus had remained quiet, no doubt he would have concluded the treaty with Vordan in good faith. When the situation changed, however, it gave him the chance to ask for more.”
“Goodman has been insistent about that,” Raesinia said.
“I’m sure he has. That’s the stick. I wasn’t sure what the carrot would be, but it makes sense.”
Marrying some prince I barely know is supposed to be the reward? “Why does it make sense?”
“The crown prince has only one son, and he is known to be sickly, while the prince himself grows weaker by the year. It seems increasingly likely that the Pulwer dynasty will not continue down that branch of the tree. The second prince is healthy and presumably fertile, but so far has refused every potential match. You are young, unmarried, and in need of heirs yourself.” Dorsay shrugged. “Given the course of recent events, Georg is also eager to move Borel away from Elysium’s orbit. An alliance with Vordan, cemented by something as strong as a marriage between the monarch and the prospective heir, would be a good way to accomplish that.”
“You think this offer is genuine, then?”
“Oh, certainly. Georg is an honorable man.”
“No king is an honorable man,” Raesinia snapped. “Not if he wants to keep his throne for long.”
“Fair,” Dorsay conceded. “But he does try to keep his promises. The alliance would be popular with the merchants, which would make Goodman and his friends less ruffled about being overruled. From Georg’s position, I can certainly see the advantages.” Dorsay steepled his hands. “And from yours, I have to say.”
“Advantages?” Raesinia glowered. “You’re not serious.”
“From a purely political point of view, of course. You are young, and your power is insecure. If you married Prince Matthew, then Borel would have a powerful incentive to make sure you kept your throne, which can only assist in dealing with domestic opponents. You would receive the aid against J
anus you came for. And you clearly must marry someone soon, in any event.”
“I know,” Raesinia said. “I’m just...” What? Not happy about having my body bargained with like a broodmare? “Unprepared. I hadn’t thought to address the problem of marriage until things were more settled.”
Dorsay raised an eyebrow. “Well, we are where we are, and we needs must make the best of it.”
“You think I should accept, then.”
“I wouldn’t dream of telling the Queen of Vordan what she should do. All I can say is that it seems to be one way of achieving what you came for, at a cost your nation is willing to bear.” He got to his feet. “It’s time for breakfast. Would you like to join me?”
Raesinia declined, as graciously as she could, and headed back to her own chambers. Barely and Jo fell into step behind her, as usual, but she was so lost in her own thoughts she hardly noticed them.
He’s right, damn him. Taking the king’s offer was the logical thing to do. It would accomplish everything Dorsay said, securing Borel’s aid now and in the future. All at the price of, what? Sleeping with a boring dimwit? Women have done far worse for far less.
The problem, of course, was that it wasn’t that simple. Prince Matthew didn’t know about her supernatural problem, and there was no telling how he’d react if he found out. Raesinia planned to “live” only a few more years in any case, before her agelessness became too obvious to deny. Any heir would be too young to rule at that point, so she needed a husband she could trust with the throne. I would trust Marcus with Vordan. But Matthew?
Then there was the matter of the child. Raesinia had no idea if she could conceive, in her current state, but she strongly suspected not. She hadn’t had her monthly flows since Orlanko and the Black Priests had made her read the name of her demon. If she couldn’t age, or even get drunk, she doubted pregnancy was an option. With a husband who was in on the plot, that was a problem that could be circumvented, but if she had to deceive him about the parentage of his child on top of her other secrets...
It can’t work. Something would go wrong, and then everything would fall apart. She paused outside the door to her own suite and caught her breath. I can’t take Georg’s offer, whatever Dorsay thinks. She felt a little better having arrived at the decision without invoking purely personal reasons. My need to be with Marcus can’t trump the good of the whole country. But it won’t work anyway. She nodded decisively. We just have to find something that will.
The Infernal Battalion Page 26
