Winter

In the three days since the lupine assault, Winter had heard a few more howls in the night, but they hadn’t seen any sign that the animals were still close. Three Haeta had died in the attack, but those who’d been wounded had all recovered, thanks to Abraham’s talents. The revelation that Alex, too, was a “blessed one” had most of the Haeta behaving uncertainly around their three southern allies, but no one seemed ready to suggest that they turn against the power that had saved them all.

Leti increasingly deferred to Winter, asking her advice whenever they came to a fork in the path or needed to choose where to camp. It made Winter uncomfortable—​she had no right to be giving orders to the Haeta—​but it made things easier, especially since the rest of the young women obeyed Leti without question. They held their course northwest as best the terrain would allow, crossing another ridgeline and beginning a long, slow descent. The forest here hadn’t suffered as badly from the abnormal weather, and some of the trees were still green. Hunting got better, with the occasional deer added to their diet of rabbits and squirrels, and the scouts occasionally brought back wild vegetables.

On the third day, they broke through a patch of tangled underbrush and found the river Bataria spreading out in front of them, wide and frothy brown. Meltwater from upstream had clearly swelled it beyond its usual banks, and they made an early camp in a clear meadow well above the river’s edge. Winter helped Alex and Abraham set up their tent, impressed as usual with the speed and efficiency of the Haeta’s camp skills.

She’d gotten to know a few of them, despite the language barrier. Most of the Haeta understood quite a bit of Murnskai, but didn’t speak it as well as Leti and Vess, and seemed embarrassed to try. When she found herself standing watch or walking beside them, though, she tried to coax them to speak a little, and she tried to at least learn their names. There was Gina, beanpole thin and sharp-eyed; Yath, with her red hair and clever fingers, always working on complicated knots and braids; placid Ulli, with her lazy eye. They couldn’t tell her much about themselves, but she got a vague sense just by watching them at night. She found herself envying the easy camaraderie, the feeling of shared skill and shared danger.

She wondered, sometimes, if she’d have felt less apart if she’d been born among them. No need to put on a disguise to go into the army here. And either the “Tyrant’s Disease”—​the technical term, Cyte had taught her, for when women slept with other women—​was very common among them, or their standards were just... different. It was a pleasant fantasy, which Winter acknowledged was certainly no more than that. No doubt they have their own set of problems. Every one of these girls is going to go home and marry some man her priest has picked out. She was uncomfortably reminded of Jane, sold to Ganhide like a sack of meat. I hope it’s not that bad.

There was guilt there, too. We didn’t call them here. But the Haeta had come because of the Vordanai invasion, along with many others. We didn’t bring the blizzards. We didn’t unleash the Beast. But it was possible none of it would have happened if Janus had stayed south of the Ytolin.

Since they’d set up camp earlier than usual, the scouts had had a chance to range farther afield for food. They’d come back with a deer, assorted smaller game, and clusters of wild onion and mushrooms. The Haeta set to work with a will, skinning and gutting, and Winter left them to it. The best I can manage is army soup. Instead, she stood by the river, staring pensively at the distant far bank and trying to think.

“Winter.” Leti sounded hesitant, as though she didn’t want to intrude.

“It’s all right,” Winter said, beckoning her over. “I’m just trying to figure out what we do next.” She shook her head at the brown, rushing water. “The river isn’t normally this wide, is it?”

“No. In fall it can sometimes be only a trickle. But even in spring I have never seen it so deep.”

“I don’t suppose you know of a convenient ford nearby.”

Leti shook her head. “We crossed at one on the way south, but that was many miles to the east of here.” East was the way they’d come, where the Beast might be following. “In any case, I doubt it is passable with the water so deep.”

“We certainly can’t swim it,” Winter said. “And I wouldn’t trust any boat we could build in that.”

Leti nodded silently. Winter watched her for a moment, then looked back to the water. They always look to me for answers.

“We’ll follow the bank and head west,” she said, trying to sound authoritative. “What we really need is a small ship and someone to sail it. That way we can drop you off on the north bank and get ourselves downriver. There must be towns and villages along here, and we can bargain with them.”

“They are spread thin this far east, but yes,” Leti said.

I hope we find something sooner rather than later. Every day the Beast grew stronger. More immediately, Winter would feel a lot better when she was able to put distance between her and the red-​eyes behind them. Still, we’ve been lucky. We’d never have gotten this far without the Haeta.

“Winter,” Leti said again.

“Something wrong?”

“No.” The girl’s face scrunched up, and she took a deep breath.

Winter cocked her head. “What?”

“I thought...” Leti looked down. “Would you care to share my tent tonight?”

“Your...” That took a moment to sink in. “Oh.”

“I know you don’t share our ways,” Leti said quickly. “But I thought you might... like to try.”

Winter ran a hand through her hair—​it was getting longer than she liked, out here in the wilderness—​and stared at Leti. She was pretty, though Winter hadn’t thought about it much until now. Compact and athletic, with small breasts and lean muscles, dark hair pulled back in a short braid. Her eyes were wide and blue.

There’s no reason I shouldn’t. She and Cyte had never spelled out the parameters of their relationship, after all. And in all probability Winter would never see Cyte again—​even if she made it back to Vordan, she still had to confront the Beast, and one way or another she doubted she was coming back from that. So what’s the harm?

Logical, she supposed. And yet she didn’t find herself tempted. It wasn’t that Leti was too young—​there was only half a decade between them, after all—​or that she didn’t find her attractive, in the abstract, but—

“I’m sorry,” Winter said. “I appreciate the offer, but I can’t.”

“To be with another woman is so terrible for you?” Leti’s eyes shone with tears.

“It’s not that. I’m...” Taken? Married? “Promised. To someone else.”

Leti frowned. “But...” She stopped, shook her head. “Southerners are strange people.”

“I agree,” Winter said. “I hope I haven’t offended you.”

“No.” Leti shrugged, though her expression betrayed her casual tone. “You have every right to refuse. And perhaps it is for the best.”

“Maybe.” Winter looked back up the slope, sniffing the air. She patted Leti on the shoulder. “Come on. I smell dinner.”

*

The evening was a pleasant one, with plenty of food for once and a merry fire. Some of the Haeta danced while others sang and clapped along. Some, Winter couldn’t help but notice, slipped off in pairs to their tents. Leti retired early, alone, and as the sun sank down into the water of the Bataria, the girls who were left at the fire began to drift away to their own pursuits. Abraham had long since gone to sleep, and Alex, sitting in the dirt beside Winter, was yawning.

“I wish we had a better map,” Winter said. The one they’d brought from the Mountain showed only the rivers and a few major cities. “We could be walking for weeks before we find civilization.”

“Probably not weeks,” Alex said. “The Murnskai army has regular garrison posts along these rivers for courier traffic, though I have no idea if they’re still manned.”

“If not, let’s hope they’ve left their boats behind,” Winter said. “Even a sturdy rowboat would be something. We could take the Haeta over the river in shifts.”

“Better than staying on this side,” Alex agreed. She yawned again. “Coming to bed?”

“Not quite yet,” Winter said. “I want to think for a while.”

“Suit yourself.” Alex dug her elbow into Winter’s ribs. “Abraham told me one of the Haeta propositioned him in very unambiguous terms. He asked for my help telling her that she’s, ah, barking up the wrong tree.”

“He’s not interested?”

“Abraham?” Alex raised her eyebrows. “I suppose there’s no reason you’d know. He has—​had—​a lover, who was taken away by the Church. A boy named Peter. Abraham talks about going to find him someday.”

“Ah,” Winter said. Is that the Tyrant’s Disease, too? She wondered if they ought to compare notes, but was certain she’d never be able to bring it up. “Well, the Haeta seem to respect that we have different ideas about that sort of thing. I don’t think you’ll have difficulty.”

“We’ll find out.” Alex clambered to her feet. “Good night, then.”

“I’ll be in soon.”

Alex wandered off, leaving Winter alone, staring into the slowly fading fire. It popped and crackled, and in the darkness beyond the camp the forest was alive with rustles and soft animal noises. Somewhere, an owl hooted. There were sentries out there, too, but the Haeta had a way of disappearing into the woods when they kept watch, quiet as any nighttime hunter.

“Southerner.”

Winter nearly jumped at the sound of the voice. She looked up to find Vess crouching beside her, hands held flat to the fire, warming herself on the last embers.

“Yes?” Winter said, feeling uncertain. Vess had been the only one who’d voiced a worry about the nature of Alex’s powers. On the other hand, since the ambush, she’d been a little warmer, if not actually friendly. Her face was set in a perpetual scowl, but it was less often aimed in Winter’s direction.

“Leti spoke with you this evening,” Vess said. “She invited you to spend the night with her.”

“She did,” Winter said carefully.

“I do not know you, Winter Ihernglass.” This time the scowl was very definitely directed at Winter. “My sister may be wet for you, but do not think you have earned my trust.”

“Your sister’s virtue is safe, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Vess snorted. “If she ever had such a thing, she discarded it ages ago, and happily. It is her heart that concerns me.”

“Her heart?”

“Leti is... a good person. Better than I am. She strives to see the best in others, and reflecting her, they become better in her presence. It is why she was chosen to lead us, and why she will lead the tribe one day.” Vess pressed her lips together. “But it makes her vulnerable, you understand? To betrayal. She looks up to you, and if you disappoint her it will hurt her badly.”

Winter stared into the fire, suddenly uncomfortable. “I never asked her to.” I never asked any of them to.

“In the crisis, when she froze, you acted. That night, after she cried in my arms, she talked about you. She sees you as... who she would like to be.” Vess cocked her head. “You are not just a soldier, I think. You are a leader.”

“I am,” Winter admitted. “Or I was.”

“Then you understand.”

All too well. It was easy to put herself in Leti’s place, in command of an expedition that had turned into a disaster, with all the people who once might have joked with her instead looking at her with that terrible need. The hunger for someone who knew what to do, who would make things better. Bobby’s face—​from back in Khandar, before war and pain had aged her—​floated through Winter’s mind, bringing a stab of guilt. The way she looked at me...

There was a long silence. The fire popped, settling.

“I’m not sure what you want me to do,” Winter said. “If you want to try to convince her she’s wrong, you’re welcome to.”

“It’s too late for that now,” Vess said with a sigh. “You must live up to her expectations instead. Be the woman she wants you to be, Winter, or you will answer to me.”

“I’ll try.” I always try so hard. It felt like a hundred ghosts mocked her as she said the words. And behind them all, Jane. Not a ghost but something worse. The heart of a monster.

Vess’ eyes narrowed. “I believe you will.”

Winter wanted to ask what she meant, but Vess suddenly looked up. A moment later Winter heard it, too, the sound of running feet. One of the Haeta, an older girl named Qwor, burst into the light, spear in hand.

“Red-​eyes,” she gasped out, and then more in her own language that Winter couldn’t follow. Vess shot up.

“What’s happening?” Winter said.

“Gina is missing,” Vess snapped. “Qwor saw red lights on the hillside. They have found us.”

More sentries reached the camp, shouting, and the Haeta began to emerge from their tents. Many of them were half-​clothed or wearing nothing at all, but they picked up their spears regardless, strapping the quivers of spares across bare skin. Alex crawled out of her tent, with Abraham following.

Leti was nowhere in sight, and everyone was looking at Winter.

Saints and fucking martyrs. She could feel Vess’ stare on her back.

“Torches!” she shouted. “Get some light on the perimeter. Set them and then back off. They may have muskets—”

*

Leti emerged from her tent a few minutes later, still fighting her way into her furs, but it changed little. Instead of coming to Winter for orders, the Haeta looked to Leti, and Leti looked to Winter. Their little band hunkered down and braced for the onslaught of red-​eyed slaves of the Beast.

It never came. Once, Winter caught sight of a pair of crimson lights, shining in the darkness, but that was all. Minutes passed and then hours. She organized shifts, kept half the Haeta ready while the others got dressed and packed their tents. By dawn they were shivering and exhausted, but there was no option except to push on.

There was no sign of Gina, the girl who’d vanished. A band of Haeta found where at least two men had caught her, but they’d carried her deeper into the forest, with no sign of whether she was alive or dead. Leti wanted to go after her, and Winter had to take her aside.

“Gina’s gone,” she said, swallowing hard. Live up to her standards. But what does that mean? “Worse than gone. She’s one of them now.”

“One of them?” Leti’s eyes widened. “The red-​eyes?”

Winter nodded. “They are... a kind of demon. You know that. If they catch you and stare into your eyes, they can transform you into a demon, too. The same body, but the mind is gone.”

“That’s...” Leti looked like she wanted to be sick.

“I know.” Winter hesitated, then added, “They are a plague. I can’t say too much, but my companions and I are trying to stop them. We must reach the mouth of the Bataria.”

It would have been a ridiculous story, of course, if Leti hadn’t already seen Alex’s and Abraham’s supernatural powers. As it was, guilt flooded through Winter as she saw the girl’s expression change, her horror hardening into a sense of renewed purpose. It’s true, she told herself. We are trying to stop them, even if I haven’t filled in all the details. But she still felt like she was abusing Leti’s trust.

They slogged through the next day, following the bank of the river, where the forest was a little thinner. This land had clearly never been cultivated, which made Winter wonder just how far from civilization they were. She’d been in Murnsk long enough, though, to know the line between humanity and the wild could be abrupt, and she hoped and prayed they’d run into it sooner rather than later.

That night Winter directed the group to a rocky outcropping, where they could put their backs against something solid. Instead of lone sentries, they kept watch in shifts, staring at a perimeter of makeshift torches for signs of movement. They saw points of glowing red, now and then, well off in the dark beyond pistol range. The Beast was there, watching.

“It’s not strong enough to rush us,” Alex said quietly. “So it’s trying to wear us out, slow us down. It must have more bodies closing in.”

Winter nodded. Inwardly, she wanted to scream, to rush out and tear the things to shreds. Only it wouldn’t help. How can you fight something like this? It was too big a task, like trying to dig up a country with her bare hands. No matter how many bodies they killed, the Beast would only send more, a never-​ending flood spreading out across the world.

They struggled on through the next day, and the next, setting the pace as fast as Winter dared. Every moment they were stopped, she felt the jaws closing around her, the hidden tide of red-​eyed monsters getting closer. Leti had circulated her description of what the Beast could do, and as a result none of the Haeta complained when she asked them to walk longer or push harder. A few of the younger girls collapsed, and the others carried them. Abraham was practically a ghost at the end of every day, white-​faced and trembling, and Alex stuck close to his side, looking worried.

But no matter how far or how fast they went, the red lights were waiting for them in the darkness.

This can’t go on. It was a killing pace. One more day, she told herself. One more day. If we don’t reach some kind of civilization, we’ll have to risk a longer halt, recover some strength. Even the Beast’s bodies couldn’t run forever. They still tired, still wore out, even if they could ignore pain. One more day.

Then, on the fourth day, one of the scouts came back to report a curl of dark woodsmoke rising against the cloudy sky.

*

“They have ships,” Alex said.

“Boats,” Winter said, although she had to admit she wasn’t entirely sure of the difference.

Whatever they were, there were two of them tied up to a stone pier, bobbing in the fast current of the Bataria. They had one mast each, and locks for several sets of oars. Winter thought they looked like something between a ship’s longboat and a proper sailing vessel.

They were looking at a small fortress, presumably one of the Murnskai army garrisons Alex had mentioned. It had an outer palisade of logs strapped together, with a wooden wall walk and a pair of gates. Inside was one large stone building, grim and official-​looking, surrounded by a scatter of makeshift wooden shacks and lean-​tos. In addition to the smoke rising from the chimney of the central structure, several smaller fires contributed thin strings of gray.

The hillside they stood on was some distance away, and overgrown enough that Winter was reasonably certain they wouldn’t be spotted. Around the fortress, though, the forest had been cut back, leaving a clear field of fire.

Leti squinted, shading her eyes. “I see men on the walls.”

“Are they in uniform?” Winter said.

“I think so. White uniforms.”

“Murnskai army, then.” Winter had half expected the fortress to be held by bandits, but apparently the garrison was still in residence. “When you were fighting the heretics, did you work with them?”

Leti shook her head. Vess, crouching beside her, looked sour and said, “The priests told us we were serving in the same cause but that the southerners were too blind to see it. We stayed apart from them where we could and killed them when we had to.”

“They don’t seem to be expecting trouble,” said Alex. “There’s only a few men on the wall.”

Winter made a quick count of the buildings she could see and the number of fires, and frowned. “There could be at least a hundred of them in there, though.”

“Wait for nightfall,” Vess declared. “We can go over that wall easily in the dark, kill the guards before they can cry out.”

“Then what?” Winter said. “Slaughter them all in their beds?”

Vess nodded. “Now that the heretics are gone, there is no reason for us to consider them allies. We have often fought the white-​coats.”

“We don’t necessarily need to kill all of them,” Alex said. “Just steal their ships. If we can get over the wall, we can just go to the pier and help ourselves.”

“Getting our supplies over the wall would be difficult,” Vess said.

“Capture a gate, then,” Alex said.

“Too dangerous.” Vess set her jaw. “If they are alerted, we will be too few to fight them.”

Leti was looking at Winter. Live up to her standards, Winter thought.

“We should try to talk to them,” she said. “I don’t want to massacre anyone, if we can help it. And they need to be warned about the red-​eyes.”

“They won’t listen,” Vess said. “And once they know we’re here, they’ll be on guard. We’ll lose our chance.”

But Leti was nodding. “Even if we take them by surprise, attacking is risky. If one guard shouts, we could all be killed. I think it’s worth trying to talk.”

Vess looked from her sister to Winter. Her expression said, Of course you do.

Winter cleared her throat. “Besides, do you know how to sail a ship like that?” The two Haeta shook their heads. “I certainly don’t. If we can convince them to evacuate before the red-​eyes get here, they might be willing to help.”

“We can manage the ships,” Vess said stubbornly. “Logs float downstream. I’m sure we’ll be able to.”

“With the river running so fast, I wouldn’t bet on it,” Alex said. “Logs don’t mind being flipped over.”

“We’ll talk,” Leti said decisively. “I will go.” She looked at Winter almost shyly. “Will you accompany me?”

“Of course,” Winter said. “Bring a few more warriors. Not too many. We don’t want to scare anyone. But just in case.”

“I’ll come,” Alex said, but Winter shook her head.

“Stay with the camp,” she said. “If the red-​eyes see we’ve split up and decide now is the time for another try, you’re the best chance of stopping them.”

“I will—” Vess said, but Leti interrupted her in her own language. An argument ensued, but after a few moments Vess sighed, got to her feet, and stomped back in the direction of the camp.

“What did you tell her?” Winter asked.

“That she should stay behind,” Leti said. “If something goes wrong, she will have to lead the others.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

*

In the end there were five of them: Winter, Leti, red-​haired Yath, and a pair of sisters named Elka and Seka. They circled around the cleared area so as not to approach from the direction of their camp and then walked slowly and deliberately toward the fortress.

Whether or not they were expecting trouble, the guards on the wall weren’t blind. It wasn’t long before they spotted the small group, and a half dozen of them gathered to watch as the five women came closer. Winter stopped the others a bit outside musket range and waved to the watching soldiers. When one of them cautiously waved back, she cupped her hands to her mouth and shouted in Murnskai.

“Greetings! We’d like to speak to someone in authority, please!”

The answer drifted back, almost inaudible. “Who are you?”

“Travelers!” Winter paused, then added, “We don’t want any trouble!”

There was an animated discussion among the soldiers, and several of them disappeared. The others stared, but didn’t speak, and for a long while nothing happened. Leti shifted impatiently, but Winter, more familiar with the ways of soldiers, gestured for her to wait. They’ll have to find the command, explain the situation, convince him it requires his attention...

Five minutes was actually faster than she’d expected. The front gate swung open, and four white-​uniformed soldiers emerged, followed by a man in a dark cloak. He wore a uniform underneath it, Winter saw as he approached, of a considerably more impressive cut, adorned with silver and gold braid. His cloak was black leather, lined on the inside with soft, dark fur. He had blond hair that fell loose to his shoulders and a narrow, suspicious face with a neat blond beard. A pistol and a short sword hung at his belt, while the men with him carried muskets with bayonets fixed. Not taking any chances, is he?

When he was perhaps twenty yards off, he stopped, eyeing the group of women with open curiosity. His eyes lingered on Winter, and he raised an eyebrow.

“You’re not one of them,” he said, his Murnskai strangely accented to Winter’s ears. “But by your voice you’re not Murnskai, either.”

Winter shook her head. “I’m from the south.” No need to specify Vordanai, what with the war...

“A foreigner.” His mouth twisted. “So, what is a foreign woman dressed in rags doing in the company of four girl savages?”

Winter glanced down at herself. “Rags” might be pushing it, but she had to admit she didn’t look imposing. She’d patched the gear she’d gotten at the Mountain with pieces provided by the Haeta, and the result was warm but didn’t look pretty. She shrugged.

“It’s quite a story,” she said. “I’ll be happy to tell it to you, if you like.”

“We shall see.” The man strolled forward, and his escort followed, though they looked unhappy. “Do your companions speak Murnskai?”

“I do,” Leti said. “I am Letingerae, of the Haeta.”

“Remarkable,” the man murmured. “I am Captain Evar Kollowrath, commander of Fort Penance.”

“And I’m Winter Ihernglass.” She didn’t think her fame was enough that she had to worry about being recognized.

“And what do Winter Ihernglass and her savage friends require of His Imperial Majesty’s army?”

Winter took a deep breath. “We need passage downriver, as soon as possible. We saw your ships. We’d like to use them.”

One of the soldiers standing beside Kollowrath sniggered. The captain merely smiled broadly.

“Really? Is that all?” He waggled his eyebrows. “You don’t want a hot meal and a bath while you’re at it?”

“There are... people behind us. A small army. They’re killing everything in their way.” Winter had explained to Leti that the Murnskai wouldn’t believe in demons. She had to admit, though, that this story wasn’t as convincing. “I suggest you come with us.”

“Abandon our posts, in other words,” Kollowrath said. “Give up this fortress, with which His Imperial Majesty has entrusted me. Take over His Imperial Majesty’s river couriers for my own use, on the word of an indigent young woman and a pack of northern barbarians.” He raised his hands. “Why not?”

The man at his shoulder, a big, heavily bearded fellow, whispered something in the captain’s ear. Kollowrath turned scarlet.

“Rumors and exaggerations,” he spat. “And if you contradict me in public again, Sergeant, you’ll be on ice duty for a month. Is that clear?”

The sergeant stepped back. Winter met his eyes and saw his frustration. But he muttered, “Yes, sir.”

“We will not be abandoning the fortress,” Kollowrath said, turning his attention back to Winter and the others. He came closer, until he was just a few strides from her. “If some ‘army’ of brigands wants to take it, I invite them to try. They will find His Imperial Majesty’s soldiers ready for them.”

“Fine,” Winter said. She turned to Leti. “This was a mistake. Let’s go.”

“Now, wait.” Kollowrath was smiling. “I don’t want it to be said that I’m uncharitable. If you and your companions wish to shelter within the walls, I’m sure something could be arranged.”

“Sir,” the sergeant said.

“What kind of arrangement?” Winter said. Though, looking at Kollowrath’s face, she had a sinking feeling she already knew.

“The kind I imagine a group of young women alone on the road makes on a regular basis,” Kollowrath said. He stepped closer to Seka, who stiffened. The girl didn’t understand much Murnskai, but she could read Kollowrath’s tone.

“Sir!” the sergeant said. “We should go back—”

“Stop,” Leti said.

Kollowrath ignored both of them. He moved beside Seka and stroked her cheek with one hand. “I’ve never bedded a northern girl, you know,” he mused, fingers sliding down her arm. “They say they’re wild—”

Elka, Seka’s sister, raised her spear. Winter saw her moving as though in slow motion, and her own hand came up as she shouted in Murnskai, knowing the girl wouldn’t understand. Leti barked something in Haeta, and Elka hesitated, her weapon pointing at Kollowrath. Then the world went white, and Winter’s ears were ringing with the blast of a musket going off at close range.

For a moment everyone was still. The spear clattered from Elka’s fingers, and she brought her hand up to the hole in her furs, just below her collar. When she pressed it against the wound, red spurted around it. She blinked, and collapsed.

As if that had been a signal, everyone moved at once. Seka screamed, snatching up her own spear. Kollowrath scrambled backward, his face a mask of terror, and the sergeant was shouting something. The soldier holding a smoking musket backed away, while his companions raised their weapons.

“Run!” Winter screamed.

The closest soldier blocked Seka’s spear thrust with his musket, slashing his bayonet diagonally across her stomach. Leti was going for her weapon, but Winter grabbed her arm, her legs feeling slow and clumsy. Dirt slid under her feet as she turned, her boots tearing through the tall grass. She shouted again at Yath, who’d drawn her own spear, but the girl was already pivoting on one foot for a throw. The weapon whipped out and caught the soldier who’d shot Elka, several inches of bloody spearhead emerging from the back of his neck. He fell to his knees, clawing at the spear as he choked and gurgled.

“Back to the fortress!” Kollowrath said, voice high with panic. “Back!”

Yath turned to run. Another musket went off, and she toppled with a grunt. Leti saw, and half turned herself, pulling Winter with her.

“Leti—”

“We can’t—” Leti began.

Seka’s guts were sliding out of her, but she had a long knife in her hand, jamming it over and over into the soldier’s ribs. The sergeant and his two remaining men were following their commander back toward the gate. One of them had snatched up an unfired musket from his companion and turned to sight on them. Winter flung herself down, pulling Leti alongside her, just as the weapon went off with an ear​splitting crack.

She buried her face in the dirt, tasting it on her lips, listening. There was a short shriek, a soft gurgling noise, and then only the sound of retreating boots fading into the distance. Winter raised her head, brushing soil from her face.

“We have to get out of here,” she said. “Kollowrath will send more men. He’ll—”

She stopped. Leti didn’t move.

No. Not again. Winter was back in Bobby’s arms, huddling against the motionless statue. At the regimental aid station, watching as Hannah Courvier removed arms and legs. Signing the strength reports, counting the dead. No, no, no...

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.”