Winter

“Well,” Winter said, doing up the last buttons of her coat. “I suppose it’s time to go and save the world.”

Cyte, still in just her uniform shirt, gave a quick nod, arms folded over her chest. Her face was tight.

“Be careful,” she said. “Please.”

“I’m not the only one who’s going to be in danger, you know.”

Winter leaned close and kissed her. Cyte hesitated at first, and then her lips parted, returning the kiss with desperate urgency.

“I’m serious,” Winter said when she pulled away. “I’m coming back, and so are you.”

Cyte nodded, blinking rapidly. Winter wanted to kiss her again, put her arms around her, crawl back into bed and never come out. Instead she slipped out of the tent, shivering at the sudden chill. The sun was only a suggestion of brightness at the horizon, and fall was slipping away quickly.

She walked up the hill, following the paths cut by companies of enthusiastic axmen the night before. At the back of the ridge, behind the artillery, a small copse of trees had been left untouched. Their leaves were fading to brown, but they still effectively concealed the small clearing at their center from prying eyes, and Winter had picked the spot for a meeting place. She pushed through bushes until she broke into the open, and she waited for the others to arrive.

In the center of the clearing, they’d made a pyre, a bed of firewood built on a layer of small sticks and kindling. Winter looked down at it and shivered, but not from the cold.

Alex and Abraham arrived next. Alex had trimmed her hair and traded her ragged traveling clothes for a tighter, darker outfit of leather and silk. Winter raised an eyebrow at her, and she shrugged, blushing slightly.

“I had this stashed in the city from the last time we came through,” she said, looking down at herself. “I thought it was an appropriate costume for the world’s greatest thief. This seemed like as good a time to pull it out as any.”

“Having a fancy costume seems to defeat the purpose of being a thief,” Abraham said, pulling his gray robe away from the bushes with some effort. “You’re not supposed to let people see you.”

“You clearly don’t understand what it takes to be the world’s greatest thief,” Alex said. “You have to show off a little to build your reputation.”

She grinned, but her smile was shaky. Winter did her best to project reassurance.

Sothe didn’t so much arrive as materialize out of the shadows. She shot Alex a pointed look, then nodded to Winter.

“You’re ready?” Winter said.

“Feor assures me the ritual was successful.” Sothe looked down at herself. “I didn’t feel different, at first. But I tested a cut on my arm last night.” She held out her wrist. In a line across her old, fading scars, there was a stripe of flesh that had turned the color of marble. “It is... a strange sensation.”

Winter blinked back a moment’s tears, remembering Bobby coming to her when she’d first noticed the change Feor’s magic was working. How long could she have lived, if she hadn’t followed me? Another year? Longer? They’d never know now.

“If you’d like,” Abraham said quietly, “I can send you into a deep sleep. I thought that might make the prospect... easier. Only with your permission, of course.”

Sothe gave a small smile. “I consider myself as capable of bearing pain as anyone, but I must admit the prospect of being burned alive was unappealing. I think your way sounds better.”

“Wait,” Winter said. “What am I supposed to tell Raesinia? Assuming... things work out.”

“She knows I intend to go with you,” Sothe said. “Just not the details. Tell her I gave my life to stop the Beast.”

The assassin nodded again politely. She dropped a small pack at Winter’s feet, then lowered herself onto the pyre, taking care not to disturb the logs. Winter watched with a quiet awe at her self-​control. She’s not even trembling. When she was comfortable, Abraham stepped forward and put a hand on her shoulder.

“I don’t blame you,” Winter said abruptly. “For... what you did. And I think... maybe you can balance the scales.”

Sothe only smiled. A moment later her eyes closed and her breaths became slow and deep.

Abraham stood up. “I should get back to the cutter’s station,” he said, looking from Alex to Winter. “If you need my help, you’ll know where to find me.”

“Thanks,” Alex said. “Don’t forget to keep your own head down.”

He nodded gravely and left the clearing. Alex looked down at Sothe nervously, then raised her eyebrows at Winter. “So, now we just... light her on fire?”

“Not yet.” The Steel Ghost’s voice rang from nowhere. For a few seconds the air was full of flying sand, and then the robed, masked figure stood beside the pyre, looking down at Sothe. “This is a brave woman,” he murmured.

“You have no idea,” Winter said.

“I will start looking for the core,” he said, straightening up. “Once I find it and the battle has begun, I will return here. The transformation will not take long.”

“Good luck,” Winter said. We’re all going to need it.

The Ghost vanished into a tower of swirling sand, which rose out of the clearing in a rush of wind. Alex brushed a few errant grains out of her hair and sighed.

“I guess we wait here,” she said.

“There’s a lot of that in battles,” Winter said.

“Do you get used to it?”

She reflected for a moment. “No. It’s always the worst part.”

Alex barked a laugh, then paused. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“The ‘core’ we keep talking about. The Beast’s first body. It’s Jane, right? Your old... friend?”

Winter nodded. “Ionkovo kidnapped her and took her to Elysium. The Priests of the Black forced her to read the name of the Beast.”

“Are you sure you can do this?” Alex gestured at the pyre. “She’s still... alive. Sort of. If we get there, you’re not going to hesitate?”

There was a long silence. The sun, just emerging over the horizon, threw the shadows of the trees across the clearing.

“I loved Jane,” Winter said. “But she... changed. She tried to kill me.” Winter smiled ruefully. “I don’t pretend it’s going to be easy. But it’s not going to stop me.”

Jane’s face rose in her mind for a moment. Her mischievous grin, her flashing green eyes. Take the knife...

I will, Winter told herself firmly. For Cyte, and Raesinia, and Marcus, and everyone else. This is what I want.

Jane only laughed at her. In the depths of her soul, Infernivore stirred uneasily.

RAESINIA

The campfires went out as the sun came up. Through Marcus’ spyglass, Raesinia could see men in blue uniforms forming up on the flats, looking for all the world like a military parade. She searched for Janus among the mounted officers, but couldn’t make out faces.

They stood on a protruding rock just at the crest of Bear Ridge, above and behind the lines of trenches and the guns in their sloped pits. Straight ahead was the point of the ridge, facing northeast, directly toward Janus’ army. The great V formation of the Army of the Republic stretched back and away from Raesinia on either side, like the wings of a bird. Most of it was beyond her view—​the bulk of the hill and the remaining trees blocked her line of sight to the west and south, where the line dipped down onto the plain.

She handed the glass back to Marcus. A table had been set up at the base of the rock, and officers bustled about, delivering messages and plotting reports with a reassuring professionalism. For once, no one was suggesting that she shouldn’t be there, or that she’d be safer farther to the rear. The men took their cues from Marcus, and she’d—​at last—​trained him out of such habits.

“Here they come.” Marcus swung the glass back and forth. “He’s not wasting any time.”

“This is the attack?” Raesinia said. She squinted at the columns. “Already?”

“This is the beginning,” Marcus said. “He doesn’t know where we are, exactly, though his scouts have told him we’ve taken this hill. So he’ll brush us, just to see what he’s up against.” He raised his voice, addressing one of the runners at the base of the boulder. “Message for Colonel Archer. Tell him to hold fire unless things get out of hand. No sense wasting ammunition and showing them our guns.”

Whoever was in command of the artillery across the field had no such compunctions. Tiny puffs of smoke rose into the air, followed a few seconds later by the flat, drifting booms of the reports. Raesinia looked for the impacts, and saw only one, an explosion of dirt rising from the foot of the hill as a ball rebounded.

“Half a battery,” Marcus said contemptuously. “He wants to scare us into opening fire.”

Another half battery started shooting a few minutes later, at closer range. After the first few salvos, the balls started to land on the forward slope of the hill more often than not, but they still caused little damage. The Girls’ Own and Second Division soldiers were huddled in their trenches, not formed up in easily visible ranks, and only a supremely lucky direct hit would prove deadly.

Meanwhile, the advancing columns got clearer. There were two of them, companies one behind the next, well spaced out. At two hundred yards from the base of the hill, still unmolested by any fire from the Army of the Republic, they deployed into a single long line, three ranks deep. Flags hung limp against their poles at regular intervals.

“Tell Colonel Cyte and Colonel Giforte to fire at will,” Marcus directed a runner.

The line began its advance, men moving in unison to the beat of inaudible drums. For a few more minutes, nothing happened, except for the flash and boom of the distant gun batteries. Then, as the trench lines came into range of the oncoming formation, the Girls’ Own began to fire. It wasn’t a single volley, but spread down the line with a rolling crackle, a wave of light and smoke as the soldiers found their targets. Even at long range, some shots told, and bodies began to dribble out the back of the enemy line. They came on, steadily, as more and more fire rose from the trenches. Soon all that was visible on the slope of the hill was a roiling cloud of smoke, lit from within by muzzle flashes like fitful lightning.

The enemy halted, battalions shrinking toward their flags as they closed their ranks. They raised muskets to their shoulders, then fired, all at once. The flash of the volley was terrific, followed by a sound like a single clap of thunder, and a wave of smoke rose over them. Whether it had any effect on the women in the trenches was hard to say, but answering fire continued to rattle back. Marcus lowered his spyglass, looking satisfied.

“Just a probe,” he said.

“They’re still fighting.” Raesinia found her eyes glued to the flashes.

“Not for long. Troops in the open are never going to be able to shoot it out with men behind breastworks. Janus will know that if he wants to take this hill, he’s going to have to do it with bayonets.” He looked over his shoulder. “He’ll try the flanks first, though. I’m going to find Sevran. Where will you be?”

“Here, or at the cutter’s station,” Raesinia said. “Hannah said I might be useful for keeping morale up, if I don’t get in the way. Marcus...”

“What?”

She wanted to kiss him, here in front of everyone, but couldn’t quite nerve herself to do it. It would only be a distraction. But some part of her mind couldn’t help asking, But what if this is your last chance?

“Be careful,” she said, knowing how silly it sounded.

He nodded briskly. “If they start bombing the hill with howitzers, even the cutter’s station will be in range. I know...” He lowered his voice. “I know I don’t need to tell you to be careful. Just try not to get your head blown off where everyone can see it, all right?”

Raesinia laughed, and felt tears prick her eyes. “I’ll do my best.”

*

Sure enough, the fighting at the base of the hill soon died away, the enemy retreating out of the cloud of their own musket smoke. More units were maneuvering in the middle distance, and Raesinia could see cavalry on the move. At the base of the boulder, the young officers—​she recognized a few from Alek Giforte’s old staff—​received a message from a rider or a runner every few minutes, and plotted small changes to their map.

I should find something useful to do. She felt helpless, the Queen of Vordan hesitant to interrupt her own men. They know what they’re doing. What do I have to add? She was on the point of sliding down from the boulder when the flashes began in the fields below.

Guns. But more guns than before, more guns than she’d ever seen at once. There must have been a hundred muzzle flashes, so close together and nearly simultaneous that they had all died away into smoke before the first sound arrived. It was a bass rumble that grew and grew, rising to a crescendo that seemed to shake the very ground beneath them.

Then, all at once, solid shot was landing all around them. Geysers of dirt exploded upward from the face of the hill, spraying from where the balls buried themselves or bounced wildly into the air. One shot hit the log at the front of a breastwork and smashed it into a spray of flying splinters. Raesinia saw one of the balls as it ricocheted past, hanging at the peak of its trajectory for a moment before it crashed to the ground ten yards beyond her boulder.

“Your Highness!” one of the young officers shouted into the ringing silence that followed. He stood at the base of the boulder, holding out his hand. “Come down, please! It’s not safe.”

Raesinia wanted to scream. Bad enough to feel useless without everyone telling you so. But her eyes went to the huddle of staff, where one of the men was on the ground in a pool of blood, while two others struggled to remove a long wooden splinter from his side. She could see casualty teams moving on the slope of the hill, running to reach the injured.

They’re risking their lives. Raesinia looked back at the smoking line of guns and felt like an impostor. What am I risking?

She slid down the boulder’s face, letting the officer grab her hand and hustle her toward the cutter’s station. Behind her, a second volley of cannon-​fire began.

MARCUS

“Nothing serious,” Fitz said. “A couple of regiments looking for a weak spot. We sent them about their business.”

“That’s more than a couple of regiments now,” Marcus said, looking through the spyglass. Heavy columns of men were forming well beyond cannon-​shot. Counting their flags, Marcus put them at at least two divisions, possibly more.

“He’s not wasting time,” Fitz said. “Now that he knows where we are, he intends to crush us.”

“It’s the same on the left,” Marcus said. “A couple of divisions. It’ll be a simultaneous attack from both sides.”

“Is that what you would do, in his place?” Fitz said, with a slight smile.

“No. Converging attacks from multiple directions are hell to get timed right. That’s the sort of thing clever officers come up with.” He lowered the spyglass and looked at Fitz. “But it’s what Janus would do.”

“I agree,” Fitz said.

“You know what I need you to do?”

“Take the reserve and advance. Defeat this wing. Then transfer the reserve back to the left in time to withstand the assault there.” He looked over his shoulder at the hill. “Assuming the center can hold out, of course.”

Marcus shook his head admiringly. “Why aren’t you in command, Fitz?”

“Some days I ask myself the same question, sir.”

“Do it. I’ll ride back and start sending the reserve your way. Just don’t take too long.”

“Understood, sir.”

In the distance the sound of cannon-​fire went on and on like steady rain.