"Maroto!" Improbably, Zosia found herself delighted to hear that he was slinking around somewhere, working for Ji-hyeon. From the way Kang-ho and Singh had talked about him, she'd assumed he had stung himself to death, or was close enough to it as made no difference. Good for him, getting honest work again! "But I was saying-Keun-ju was supposed to come with you, Fennec, and Choi, all the princess's guards defecting along with their mistress. But even though Keun-ju didn't know your dad was helping facilitate the escape, your dad definitely knew you were banging the Virtue Guard."

"I say!" said Ji-hyeon, her cheeks turning as red as Samothan wine.

"Sure you do. So, Fennec helped Kang-ho pull the rug out from under Keun-ju at the last moment, stopped him from splitting with you. Then he went one further and tried to have your lover executed." Zosia watched Ji-hyeon carefully as she tried this gambit. It wouldn't hold up once Keun-ju and Ji-hyeon had a proper sit-down and he gave her his account, but right here and now Zosia needed to slide as big a wedge as possible between the princess and her second father. To cover her tail for later she shrugged, and amended herself: "Or exiled or something. The point is, your dad did him dirty-must not have approved of his little girl shacking up with a slave."

"He's not a slave," said Ji-hyeon with all the sickeningly sweet naivete of the young and spoiled.

"Sure, sure. Anyway, your other dad must've believed that Keun-ju was innocent, or maybe just more valuable kept alive and close at hand. Since Jun-hwan obviously wears the hat on Hwabun, your boy toy stayed on in the house, twiddling his thumbs till I came along. Like I said, Kang-ho tried to play dumb with me, but Jun-hwan's more devious than his husband gives him credit. So your first father sent me off to bring you back, with Keun-ju along for the ride. Of course your second dad tried to have us bumped off along the way, but I don't bump so easy. That's me, following you, up to this magical evening."

Ji-hyeon poured the kaldi, clearly considering some new kernel of information Zosia had dropped. Good. You have to feed a chicken if you expect to take her eggs. Huffing her bowl, Zosia said, "On your word as a noble girl and a fellow warrior, there's no harpy juice in here, is there?"

"Like father like daughter? No," said Ji-hyeon, "I hate that stuff, wouldn't wish it on an enemy. My second father gave me this seaweed you can take to keep you from getting the full effect of that shit. Let's you keep your secrets, but even still it's always a rough ride."

"I've had worse," said Zosia, taking a sip of the delightful black draught. "This is nice. Earth Ripper?"

"Only the best Usban beans go into my press," Ji-hyeon said in the snobby tone you only ever hear when someone's talking about kaldi, art, or tubq. She rolled her eyes when Zosia smirked at this, and put her bowl back on the table. "So let's see, now that you've sung your verses you'd like me to tell you my side of this, yes? Answer all your questions?"

"Oh, don't trouble yourself," said Zosia, enjoying the girl's obvious annoyance. "I put most of it together on the boat, and the rest I added up riding over here from the Dominions. You're a pretty easy case, Princess, not much to you at all."

"And this is the part in the ballad when I spill my guts, right?" asked Ji-hyeon. "You've cunningly baited me into telling you everything, Auntie Zosia, let me sing, sing, sing!"

"You think I'm bluffing?" Damn but this kaldi was good.

"Yup," said Ji-hyeon.

"Fine, Princess," said Zosia, settling in. She'd been bullshitting a little, sure, since most of the pieces hadn't actually slid into place until she'd entered this tent, but a few details notwithstanding, she had enough to impress the impostor. She hoped. "Let's start with your second dad's angle in all this. I came to Hwabun looking to get his help resolving some personal affairs of mine. Without boring you with the details, my business involves Queen Indsorith of Samoth; specifically, her ass on a platter. So when I got down to the Dominions and Singh told me good old Kang-ho wanted me dead before I could find you, it threw me. I mean, if you're trying to take on the whole Crimson Empire, and he's backing you up on that play, why not enlist me to help you out, the way he did with Fennec and the rest?"

A pleased smile from the girl told Zosia she'd fudged something here, and she thought she could imagine what.

"Or maybe Hoartrap and Maroto just showed up unannounced and have stuck around for their own reasons." From the sinking of the brat's smile, Zosia had nailed it. "Doesn't matter. Point is, your first father wants you back because he set you up with some local royalty, and your other dad helped you run away because he's got larger ambitions... but not so large as taking on the whole Crimson Empire, even if they are softened up from infighting."

There we go-General Ji-hyeon definitely pouted like a princess, but she was still trying to play it cool, sipping on her kaldi.

"Now, obviously the whole Star's abuzz about how I've returned from the dead and my Cobalt Company is bigger and badder than ever, sticking it to the Empire with both spurs. Fennec and your dad probably convinced you to go that route to lend you an instant reputation, though I appreciate you not using my name anymore-your people calling you General Ji-hyeon is more than I expected. I guess a blue-haired badass leading an army stocked up with my Villains turned out to be enough, eh?"

"If I'd known you were alive I wouldn't..." The girl seemed embarrassed. "I mean, I've always loved your songs. But I never would have done more than the hair, if not for... And I never used your name, not once, much as Fennec insisted. And the hair, helm, and armor were only because I thought it looked damn fleet, really."

"Armor?" Zosia glanced down at her dusty hauberk and kneepads. "I've worn a lot of different kits in my day, so what... Oh hells, don't tell me you wear that!"

Zosia had followed Ji-hyeon's eyes and landed on the chainmail brassiere and panties that were laid out on another table. The pieces were so small she'd overlooked them before, assuming they were scrap metal or maybe some new style of steel doilies. Looking back at the girl, she shook her head in amazement.

"I didn't think it possible, but I actually feel bad for you, half pint," she said. "Fennec talked you into using that? In battle?"

"Obviously it doesn't provide as much protection as some gear," Ji-hyeon said defensively, ignoring Zosia's snort. "But the mobility it allows for-"

Zosia snorted louder. "Wearing that you'd be dead in five minutes, you didn't have your daddy's devil watching out for you."

"But I do," said Ji-hyeon. "Fellwing's better than a suit of steel plate, and not being weighed down I fight faster and fiercer than any chevaleresse."

"Devils can't be everywhere at once," said Zosia. "You think me, your dad, and every other asshole with a devil got the scars we wear before binding those fiends? As soon as you go up against someone else with a devil you're naked as a babe, or maybe that owlbat just gets distracted by a tasty morsel and you catch an arrow to the gut. You don't listen to anything else I say, save that shit for your private meetings with Keun-ju or that Flintlander kid and invest in something sensible for the field."

"Why, Auntie, do I sense some jealousy that you can't pull off that ensemble anymore?" Ji-hyeon sneered.

"Oh, I bet I could, if I felt like snagging my pubes in chainmail on a regular basis," said Zosia, pouring herself some more kaldi.

"Did you have something to say on matters other than my wardrobe, or are we done here?"

"Hmph," said Zosia. "Yes, actually. Most of your army thinks you're after the Crimson Empire, and with good reason, the way you've been carrying on. But if that were true, Kang-ho would've tried to get me on board before double-crossing me-after all, I want revenge against the Empire, so why not see if I'll help his brat take the throne? That's the smart play, and the safer one, and Kang-ho likes smart and safe more than he likes Azmir tubq in a templewarden."

Ji-hyeon was smiling again, but Zosia couldn't tell if the girl was impressed or contemptuous.

"So it's obvious you're not really doing what everyone thinks you are. What, then, are you up to?"

"You tell me."

"Sure. Linkensterne," said Zosia, savoring the girl's petulant expression even more than the kaldi. She waited, and sure enough Ji-hyeon cracked.

"Who told you? Fennec?" It was kind of cute, watching the girl try to figure it out. "No... Dad and Fennec tried to bring Singh in on it, but she decided to put her lance with you instead, yes? She told you everything?"

"Nope. A chevaleresse's honor is such she never gave me more than a few hints, even if she knew everything. Don't know, and don't care. Figured it all out myself, as I said. See, when I came up to Hwabun I passed through Linkensterne, and my escort told me how pissed off the merchants are that it's been incorporated into the Isles. Back when the Crimson Empire held it, if you could even call it that, it was a smuggler's paradise, Lawless Linkensterne. Now, not so much, not so much at all. Even if I couldn't guess Kang-ho was running all sorts of shady business through there prior to the handover, some of your family's sailors told me exactly that in plain terms. Ever since, Kang-ho's had a bad time of it-must be a shame to wake up a househusband, when you've grown accustomed to a certain lifestyle."

"Not bad," admitted Ji-hyeon.

"Not bad!" Zosia cocked her kaldi bowl at the princess. "Brilliant is I think the term you're looking for. The only thing I can't figure out is how you used the Immaculate Gate to whisk yourselves down to the Dominions. I figured your old man set his devil free for the ability, but seeing as Fellwing's still around, that can't be it. Fennec's devil?"

"He's not had a devil as long as I've known him," said Ji-hyeon. "But you're half right. Fennec's the one who knows how to use the Gates. I couldn't do it on my own, and won't do it again at all, if I can help it."

"See, you're a smarter girl than I gave you credit for," said Zosia, the idea of walking into a Gate still giving her the shivers. "Far as your plot goes, I've got to admit: whip up the populace, put the fear into Samoth, and then offer a truce-look the other way when we take Linkensterne back from the Immaculates, and bam! A free city for the princess to rule, business is back on for your dad, and better than ever since he engineered the reclamation of Linkensterne. All his merchant buddies will be awfully indebted to the family that gave them their city back."

"Close," said Ji-hyeon. "Close enough, anyway. The plan isn't just to get the Imperials to step back, it's to enlist them. Losing Linkensterne's got to be a sore spot for the queen, and in exchange for restoring free trade to the Crimson Empire she'll be all too happy to lend us a few regiments. That wall they're building is still incomplete on the eastern coast, so we'll ride up and around and capture it from behind. Once we have the wall, we'll complete the construction ourselves, including a northern loop to shield Linkensterne from the Isles. Easy as that, we have a solid wall, and Linkensterne's insulated from both the Immaculates and the Empire."

"You call erecting leagues and leagues of substantial defenses before the full weight of the Immaculate Isles comes slamming down on your heads 'easy'? Assuming you can even take the wall, of course. Easy, she says."

"Easier than you think," said Ji-hyeon smugly. "We have people inside the Immaculate army, working the wall, and we've got way more inside Linkensterne-the merchants want this to happen even more than we do. They've been preparing all year, and when we take the wall they'll take the city. Then the citizens of Linkensterne all pitch in to help finish the wall while my coalition of Cobalts and Imperials defend the construction and hold the border from the Immaculates-the wall will be completed by this time next year. And after that, Linkensterne is its own republic, guarded by the Cobalt Company, with freedom and fortune for all."

"That's good," said Zosia, impressed. "Really good. Your first father might not be too pleased, seeing as he's got that loyalty for his Arm as you only get from an immigrant's kid, but for a dyed-in-the-wool double-crosser like your other dad, it's a huge get. Fennec and the rest earn a healthy cut of the profits, so nobody's complaining there, since they all know by now a small victory is better than a huge almost. Looking back, maybe that was my problem-I dreamt too big. Maybe instead of going after the Crimson Empire I should have contented myself with a smaller conquest, one I could have managed better."

"Except..." said Ji-hyeon, unable to stop herself from smiling as cheekily as her father. There was the family resemblance, right enough.

Zosia thought about it, came up with nothing. "Except what?"

"Except a daughter isn't some devil you can order about."

"No," said Zosia, twirling it around some more and still not getting much. "So what's your angle, then? Squeeze your old man out, take Linkensterne for yourself?"

"Ha!" Ji-hyeon shook her head, as though she were the smartest woman in the room. "Now, just what prize do you think a powerful warlord would pursue, a woman weaned on songs of the Cobalt Queen? A general with an army willing to ride after her into a Gate, if she asked them, armed with devils and black magic, at a time when a bloated empire is weak from civil war? What would you do, Zosia, faced with the dilemma of familial piety or something far more glorious?"

Well, well, well. Zosia found herself grinning as wide as the girl sitting across from her. "Samoth."

"Yup," said Ji-hyeon, looking more like a general than a princess as she reached under the table and pulled out a map, followed by another jug. "And since you have your own business with the Empire, I'm more than willing to bring you on as one of my captains. You can be one of General Ji-hyeon's captains... or should I start calling you and your friends my new Villians?"

Zosia bridled at the girl's choice of words, but what came next was too tasty to spit out for the sake of pride.

"Whatever I call you, Queen Indsorith is yours, Zosia, as I imagine you have unfinished business with her from that time she executed you. Whoever else you want is yours in the bargain, so long as you come clean with me about what happened back then, and any other pertinent details you might have. Pledge yourself to my flag, Zosia, and let's remind those Crimson cowards why they fear the Cobalt twilight!"

"That's quite the offer," said Zosia, getting more excited the more she thought about it. This could work out really damn well for both of them. "Shit. So long as that chainmail lingerie of yours isn't the mandatory uniform, I'm in. Where does a long-in-the-tooth recruit sign up?"

"Pack that pipe of yours, Captain Zosia," said Ji-hyeon, clearing the table and unfurling the map. "We planned on capturing Cockspar next, but their regiment cut us off in the mountains, and so we beat a retreat down here."

"The Azgarothian regiment, you know who's leading them?" asked Zosia, her heart quickening. She couldn't believe of all the luck- "Uh-huh, I wrote it down here," said Ji-hyeon, pointing to some chickenscratch on the corner of the map. "Heart? No, Hjortt, Colonel Hjortt-he's leading the Azgarothians, but my scouts said there were Myuran flags flying over part of the army, and I don't know who they've got in charge."

"Doesn't matter," said Zosia, licking her lips. This day just kept getting better and better-she'd be seeing her old chum the thumbless colonel a lot sooner than she'd hoped, and this time she wouldn't let her theatrical streak get in the way of what needed doing. Efrain Hjortt was a dead man. "What's your strategy?"

"Well, the Imperial regiments can't be more than a few days behind us, so Fennec wants us to pack up and get moving now, but I think the Cobalt Company might be done running. You're the expert, though, so I'd appreciate your insight."

"I think Fennec's a coward, and you're set up nicely to meet the Imperials in open combat," said Zosia, trying not to let her eagerness show. "Better put on some more beans, then, it's going to be a long night."

Zosia hunkered over the map, relieved she'd let Hjortt off the first time, so she could have the pleasure of getting him now. The only thing that tempered her excitement was the two devils in the corner, silently staring into each other's eyes.

CHAPTER.

12.

War was indeed coming, and you didn't need to drink Immaculate devil milk to gain that insight. The signs became increasingly obvious as Sister Portoles and Heretic left the Isles and cut back across the Empire, making for the highway that would take them down to the southern provinces, where the Cobalt Company was causing so much trouble. Open towns that she had paraded through with her Imperial regiment but a year before had erected new walls; way stations that had once welcomed all travelers now viewed even a war nun of Diadem with suspicion. Everywhere she traveled with Heretic, motley militias performed drills in barren fields instead of harvesting ripe ones, and everywhere they were questioned as to their business, and scowled at when Portoles sternly rebuffed all queries.

That King Jun-hwan had claimed it wouldn't be the war they were expecting worried at the back of Portoles's mind, like the urge to sin. She had done a good thing, as far as that went, not taking Brother Wan with her. Yet in her soul she knew Queen Indsorith had been right to advise her to view even her brethren and superiors as potential saboteurs-if the Burnished Chain had sent Efrain Hjortt to Kypck as a means of provoking Zosia into attacking the Empire, they would have a vested interest in preventing Portoles from finding her and telling her the truth. This distressing possibility was given credence when she and Heretic crested a grassy butte overlooking the languid Heartvein and caught sight of four black-robed riders racing up the road after them. They weren't much more than a mile off.

"Hmmmm," she said, surveying their surroundings for a defensible position. Portoles had fought well for the Chain during the civil war, and after the reconciliation she had worked just as hard to earn the right to serve with the Fifteenth Regiment. Her time first warring against the Imperials and then working for them had honed her natural intelligence toward self-preservation. Alas, the butte was as gentle a hilltop as a lazy pony could hope for, with a lone stand of poplars set just off the road, and nothing on the far side of the rise but a leisurely ride down to a tranquil valley. "They've timed it right-probably waited all morning for us to clear the forest."

"How's that?" Heretic looked back, forth, up, down, everywhere the nun had tilted her head. "What is it?"

"My people," said Portoles. "Come on, let's picket the horses in those trees before they're on us."

"Was wondering when you'd stop for a pray," said Heretic. "You expecting them, or is this an impromptu service?"

"Heretic," said Portoles as she dismounted, "how would you like the opportunity to kill some clergy?"

"Um." Heretic glanced back over his shoulder. From here the inclined approach and its riders were obscured by the wide top of the butte. "Not sure how you want me to answer that, Sister Portoles. It might surprise you to know I'm not really a hardened killer so much as a, um, gentle knave?"

"I didn't ask if you had killed, I asked if you wanted to," said Portoles, tying her horse and the pack mule to the thickest tree. "Hop down so I can unlock you."

"This..." Heretic looked genuinely nervous for the first time since she had freed him from the Office of Answers. "I'll level with you, sister, if this is a test I'm bound to fail. So if you're looking for an excuse to do me after all our time together, I'd prefer you just looked me in the eye when you put that hammer to my skull."

"Heretic," said Portoles as she tied his horse, "if you aren't willing to fight next to me, I'll do just that, right now."

"No need to rush into these things," said Heretic, dismounting so quickly he almost fell. She'd taken to letting him ride with his legs unshackled, and in a moment his hands were free. "I don't suppose-"

"Take those two crossbows I bought in Linkensterne, string, nock, and load them, then set them on that wide stump back there," said Portoles. "The short sword in the bedroll looked to be about your size. Now."

"Sure, sister," said Heretic, rubbing his red wrists. "But, um, you are going to talk to them first, yes? It might not come to anything, right?"

"Doubtful. In a Chainhouse or the Dens we debate with our tongues, out here I expect the saints will do the talking." Portoles hefted her maul. "Saint Orakulum here died at the Encounter of the Condemned Earth, thirty-three years ago. His bones stoked the forge, and his spirit dwells ever more in its steel. He will provide a stirring counterpoint to any argument my fellows lodge."

"This right here," said Heretic as he quickly removed the weapons from the back of the pack mule, "this is why people fear the Chain. If you settle your internal differences this way, what hope is there for dissent among the common folk?"

"You're smarter than you let on," said Portoles. "I'll parley with them, but you'll see soon enough the way the wind blows. Bows on the stump, sword in the ground beside them, and then lay a saddle blanket over them so they're hidden but easy to get out. And mind the safeties are-"

The bow Heretic had loaded with shaky hands went off, an arrow launching up through the rustling poplar branches. Portoles didn't look to see where it landed.

"On second thought, forget the blanket. Stand in front of the stump to obscure them with your body, until you need to start shooting."

"I thought the Chain forbade crossbows, sister?"

"Haven't you cottoned on yet?" Portoles showed him her file-blunted teeth. "I'm a bit of a heretic myself."

"Yeah?" Heretic wiped sweat from his face, almost dropped the bow as he did. This was shaping up to be a right proper martyrdom.

"If we fight, we kill, and if we kill one, we kill them all. If any escape they'll soon be back, with a local posse or two. If that happens the writs I carry mean very little to the illiterate. Be ready to fire at the ones in the rear. Less chance of your shooting me that way."

"If I... how will I know when to-"

"You'll know," said Portoles, and, hefting her hammer, she stepped out into the wide dirt track. Above her, dollops of puffy cream clouds floated across the afternoon sky. Beneath her, the browning grass in the center of the road was beaten down from countless hooves and feet that had recently traveled this way. Before her, a cowled rider crested the butte and slowed, the other three quickly appearing behind the first and reining in their horses as well.

With enough time, she could have strung a rope across the road, secured it to a rock on one end, and wrapped it around a tree on the other, so Heretic could pull it tight and trip the first horse.

With enough time, she could have dug a trench to effect the same.

With enough time, all the sinners on the Star could repent, and when the Sunken Kingdom returned from the waves there'd be no more need for hell.

When you were short on time, all you had was action, and the belief your action would work. Here, on this crisp autumn day so much like the one in Kypck, Portoles believed that Heretic wouldn't shoot her in the back in hopes of endearing himself to their pursuers-faith in a man whom she wouldn't have trusted not to murder her in her sleep when they'd first set out. How had it come to this, arming a confessed heretic and traitor to help her fight against her own people? In a few short years she'd gone from fighting alongside her brethren against Imperials during the civil war to riding alongside the Crimson soldiers, and now she was preparing to battle other war clerics in the service of the Queen of Samoth.

Well, everything happens.

And verily, it did.

As Portoles expected, there was no pretense. Why should there be, among servants of the Burnished Chain? The Chain Canticles warned that any anathema might harbor the talent for looking into the thoughts of another, and with even a sliver of a chance that Portoles could smell their deception, they wouldn't risk coming down from their horses to talk. Instead, they made to ride her down in the road.