"And here I thought you just ate them," said Zosia, and Choplicker growled at the laughing magician.

"I've never been lucky enough to catch one as fine as your specimen," said Hoartrap, puffing his pipe back to life. "But I have been looking into the transfer of devils. Our beloved general and her father put me onto the topic. I think I may have found a way, if you were so inclined, to take that troublesome fiend off your hands, in exchange for a more obliging devil. Maybe even several."

Choplicker's cold nose urgently nuzzled Zosia's dangling hand, and she rubbed his snout before wiping her damp palm on her checked apron. "You always were the helping kind, weren't you?"

"There's nothing I wouldn't do for a friend," said Hoartrap, blowing a smoke ring at Choplicker. The devil snapped at it.

"And what would you do with him, I wonder? Some sort of a roast?"

"Zosia, Zosia, Zosia," said Hoartrap. "I'd win the war, of course."

"All to help Ji-hyeon gain the Crimson Throne? That altruistic streak is going to get you into trouble someday."

"To help us all. The entire Star is in danger, or haven't you noticed? The Burnished Chain is too strong, its ambitions too grand. Do you have any idea what they called down this morning, what their ritual accomplished? It's too preposterous to even say aloud."

"I'd wondered where Ji-hyeon picked up her disdain for the church," said Zosia, her curiosity piqued despite her reluctance to be drawn into Hoartrap's schemes. "Is that why you murdered the war nun before I could talk to her? Sparing me the danger of an audience with a bound weirdborn?"

"I knew it was eating you up, not knowing!" Hoartrap crowed. "You've finally mastered your temper, after all these years, but I knew you wanted to know!"

Zosia shrugged. "For all the good knowing has ever done me. But let's hear it all the same."

"Let's just say she was dangerous, and you're better off without her," said Hoartrap. "But getting back to the far more interesting issue of the evening, I've had a peek beyond the veil and those mad Chainites have-"

"Choplicker," Zosia said, heart pounding at what she was about to do. So much could go wrong... "Choplicker, I want Hoartrap to tell me the truth about why Sister Portoles came here, what she wanted me to know. I want it so bad that if he doesn't tell me, now, of his own free will, I grant you your freedom to secure the facts by any means necessary."

It went as quiet as the smoky valley in the tent, Hoartrap not doing a good job hiding his amazement... And then he chuckled, shaking his head. Zosia's gambit had fallen flat, as all of them did, when they involved her worthless, disobedient devil, and from here until the end of the Star she'd never again be able to put the screws to Hoartrap with the threat of an unfettered Choplicker.

"Oh, Zosia, you do keep me interested!" said Hoartrap. "A clever ploy, but devils don't work that way. I only wish that poor nun had told me something you'd find interesting, then-"

The lamp went out, its glass mantle exploding in the black tent, and the cacophony of a thousand bones splintering and snapping filled the air, the smell of lightning mingling with the scent of rich earth, and Zosia felt a wave of icy air brush past, her cheeks and shaking hands tickled by a thousand probing threads, and then- "I'll tell, I'll tell," squealed Hoartrap. "Just call him off!"

Then the tent was still once more, though Zosia continued to feel minute pricklings all across her skin. After a few shaky breaths, Hoartrap tried an incantation, but stumbled over the words a few times before he calmed down enough to say them properly. When he finally completed it, light returned to the tent in the form of what appeared to be a small phosphorescent jellyfish floating in the air between them. Hoartrap stared down in horror at Choplicker, and Zosia had a look, too; same dog as ever, but his lips were pulled back in an uncanny approximation of a human smile. Strands of dog hair floated through the charged air, settling on everything, and Zosia brushed them off her dress, trying to slow her racing heart.

"You were saying?" she said, but it came out as a croak. She couldn't bear to look at Choplicker any longer, couldn't stop her legs from shaking like she'd missed a toehold climbing up a cliff. She'd almost gone and loosed the devil.

"Yes, yes, I was. I will. I am," whispered Hoartrap, still staring at her devil, and seeing Hoartrap so rattled was as thrilling as it was foreboding. What would have happened to the old sorcerer if he hadn't elected to come clean before Choplicker forced him?

"Let's hear it, then," said Zosia. "Starting with Portoles and everything she told you, and ending with whatever fell deviltry happened out there on the battlefield. Tell me that, and we'll call it a night."

"As you wish," said Hoartrap, finally taking a seat.

Kang-ho softened a bit when Ji-hyeon asked him about the family, and as they marched through the dark camp she felt an unexpected pang of homesickness. Come what may of the coming war, if every engagement resulted in such havoc as this one, Hwabun would remain apart from it all, safe from harm at the ends of the Immaculate Isles, and that gave her succor as they climbed the hill where she had parleyed with Fennec and Hoartrap but two nights before. Once the guards reached the crown of the hill and hung back out of earshot, though, her second father laid straight into her.

"All right, Ji-hyeon, you've had your fun," he said, puffing furiously on his borrowed pipe. "Now, just what the devils is the meaning of all this! You were supposed to use my silver to hire a crew big enough to secure the attention of a regiment or two, not the whole Crimson Empire! And now this... this madness, provoking the Azgarothian regiment into open war? You're lucky Hoartrap was here to help you, or you'd never have carried it."

"Hoartrap didn't have anything to do with it," said Ji-hyeon, trying not to lose her temper; the louder she spoke, the worse her hand hurt. "We're still trying to figure out what happened-seems like a ploy by the Imperials that blew up in their faces. I've ordered everyone to stay off the field until that smoke clears and we can see what happened out there; it went dead quiet, right in the middle of things, and I've heard reports from soldiers close to the action that the earth opened up and swallowed the whole damned regiment. None of the Azgarothians or Myurans we captured are talking, if they even know what it was, but I've got one of my best captains interrogating the Azgarothian colonel as we speak."

"You took their colonel?" Her father sounded impressed in spite of his best efforts to the contrary. "How'd you manage that?"

"He was leading from the rear. When my people rode out to pillage the Imperial camp somebody found him hiding in a wagon on the far side of the vale."

"Well," said Kang-ho, trying to work up his ire again. "It still sounds like chance carried the day, such as it is, and by the look of things you gave up a lot more than you gained. How many heads did you lose?"

"Too many," said Ji-hyeon quietly. "Far too many."

"You're lucky, daughter, very, very lucky I arrived in time, and luckier still that my old buddy Waits is leading the regiment out of Thao. She still thinks we can work something out."

"She does, does she?" Ji-hyeon peered through the misty haze that still hadn't cleared off the vale. She wondered if it ever would, or if she would be forced to send a scouting party in to discover the truth behind the smoke. "Well, then I suppose you're both in for a disappointment, aren't you? There's been a change in plans, I'm afraid."

That got him flushed, all right, and for a moment he just scowled at Fennec, who shrugged and said, "You were the one who always said she took after you."

"Ji-hyeon..." her father began, but then a horn sounded from the direction of the command tent, two long blows to signal an arriving messenger. She sent Fennec to fetch the news, and as he left, her father tried again, his voice softer. "Ji-hyeon, listen to me. You've had your fun, but the reality is that you've gotten yourself in an awfully tight spot, and unless you want to have an unstoppable war on your hands by lunchtime, you need to get smart, and... and... oh no. No, no, no, Ji-hyeon, you're smarter than this!"

Evidently she wasn't doing as good a job of hiding her excitement as she'd thought. "It's too late, Dad. You offered me one role, which I thank you for, but I'm taking a better one."

"Ji-hyeon, I never would have let you go if I thought you'd be in real danger," said her father, looking down at her missing fingers. "This isn't a game anymore, this is-"

She socked him in the chin before she knew what she was doing. He stumbled back, more from surprise than the blow. She harried him, putting her face in his, and snarled: "You and Fennec love saying that, but this was never a game! Never! People died, lots of people. Some of them I knew and some of them I didn't, but there was never a way for your plan to work without hundreds, hells, thousands of people, innocent people, going to the grave. I've killed people, I've lost friends, and you lecture me about playing games? Fuck you, Kang-ho! Fuck you!"

He looked abashed. Nodded. Squatting down to pick up the pipe he'd dropped, he quietly said, "Please don't call me that. I'm still your friend, I hope, but I'm also one of your fathers. Call me names if you must, so long as 'Dad' is always one of them."

"Urgh!" She closed her eyes, breathed deeply, and when she opened them again she waved away the guards who had begun creeping closer. "Okay, Dad. But let's be real here. We both know what the stakes were. And now I'm raising them. Substantially."

"Hear me out, I beg you," he said in that pleading tone that always got under her first father's skin. "Let me broker a truce with the Empire. You said you know it's not a game, and I believe you, so you know that my plan involved a lot less risk for everyone. A lot less death. A lot less pain. I can get my people in the Empire back on board, if we act fast, color what happened here as unprovoked aggression by the Fifteenth. We can still take Linkensterne, which means you still have a choice to do the most good for the most people."

"We both know I don't have a choice anymore," she said, hoping reason would cut through his emotion. "Even if the Empire was willing to look the other way for this and every other crime I've committed against the Crown, I've got my own house to worry about. If I roll over and tell the troops we're teaming up with the Imperials they've been fighting all year just to take some shitty Immaculate border town, half of them would walk. The good half."

"They're mercenaries, Ji-hyeon, they'll do what you pay them to do." Her father smiled knowingly. "Don't pass the blame on this, Ji-hyeon-you want to take on the Empire, because you're young and ambitious and naive enough to think you can swing it. Nothing more."

"There's a lot more," said Ji-hyeon angrily. "The Crimson Empire is a plague on the Star, and-"

"Oh please!"

"They are, and you fucking know it! The Black Pope rules in all but name after their last civil war, and what do you think that bodes? Her missionaries have been gnawing away at every Arm of the Star, and as soon as the Empire recovers from its infighting there isn't a power in the world that will be able to stop them. They've found a new way to win wars, Dad-by not fighting them. You get enough converts, and pretty soon the whole Star bows before Diadem... This could be the last chance for anyone to stop them!"

"Spoken like a true believer." Kang-ho shook his head. "Jun-hwan will never forgive me for singing you all those old songs."

"Listen to me, Dad, for once, listen! If I did things your way we'd have Linkensterne, a free state, a bastion of liberty... But for how long, before Diadem and all the Immaculate converts decide we're another Sunken Kingdom, in need of spiritual cleansing? We walk away now, when the fight's hard but not unwinnable, and we'll never have a second chance-never!"

"God of the Seas, but I was wrong about you," said Kang-ho, delivering the lowest blow yet doled out: "You're exactly like your other father."

"Yes, well, say one thing for him, he never tried to murder my boyfriend." Ji-hyeon crossed her arms.

"Your what?" Her father looked honestly confused.

"Keun-ju! You stopped him from leaving with me, and would have had him executed, if Papa hadn't stopped you!"

And there was the recognition she was looking for. Kang-ho pulled on his pipe to stall for time, probably trying to decide between acting contrite or superior. Fortunately for him, he decided on the latter; Ji-hyeon preferred her second father when he was being an honest asshole rather than a deceitful charmer. "So Fennec spilled the rice, eh? Well, whatever the fox told you, yes, I kept Keun-ju on Hwabun, but I never planned on hurting him. To say nothing of an execution! Does that really sound like me?"

When she didn't answer, he said, "Look, you can ask him yourself, if you listen to reason and do things my way. Once we're all back on Immaculate soil, I'll send for him to meet us in Linkensterne, and you kids can carry on in whatever way you wish. What do I care if you want to piss on five hundred years of tradition and elope with your Virtue Guard? Jun-hwan may never forgive you for bringing such dishonor on our house, but I'll always love you."

"So he's still safe on Hwabun?" This was fucking it, right here, if her dad lied to her one more time...

"Welllllll... no, no he's not," said Kang-ho guiltily. "But he's safe, I promise, he's with the best swordswoman the Star has ever known."

"Zosia?" When her dad gulped she poked his armor hard enough to feel the iron plates beneath the canvas coat. "The woman you tried to pay Chevaleresse Singh to murder? I wonder what instructions you gave her about how to deal with Zosia's companion?"

"How... Gods shit on my face, she's not..."

"One of my captains, now. I'm sure she'll be delighted to see you, catch up on old times."

He looked all around, as though the specter of Cold Cobalt was about to leap out of the darkness, and when he turned back to her there were tears in his eyes. "You're breaking my heart, Ji-hyeon."

"Just like you broke Grampa's heart, to hear you sing it."

"She'll murder me, Ji-hyeon, she'll fucking murder me, right here, in front of you!" She actually felt bad for her second father, even after all his bullshit, so she patted his shoulder and said: "No she won't. Not without my order, and big a jerk as you've been, I'm not a monster." She hoped both clauses of her statement proved true before the end. "You wait here and think about whether you want to ride with us, against Samoth, or if you're going to get back on your horse and get the fuck out of my camp. But if you turn your back on me, Dad, I can't make any promises. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to take a message from my captain."

It would have been nice for him to say something supportive, like maybe he was a teensy bit impressed at what an amazing general she obviously was, but instead he just stared at her, beyond words. Well, that would have to do for now-Fennec looked ready to drop from running up the hill. Her father stayed behind, watching her go, but when Fennec whispered the report in her ear, and then repeated it, as she commanded in a surprisingly steady voice, she was glad he hadn't left.

As she plodded back over to him, a wild giggle burst out of her, every ache in her body forgotten and the day's dire battle suddenly small. The expression on her face must have revealed something of the message's tenor, for her father looked as concerned as if both her arms had fallen off.

"What is it?" he asked. "What's happened?"

Her voice broke when she tried to speak, because even though she'd only met the man a handful of times, even though she'd fled the Isles in part to escape him, she never would have wished him harm beyond the sting of rejection. Who could have done such a thing? Other than her, of course.

"You're scaring me, Ji-hyeon, what's happened?"

"I..." Horribly enough, another giggle came out. "I..."

"What? What did you do?"

"I killed my fiance," said Ji-hyeon, trying to remember what Prince Byeong-gu had even looked like. She recited the rest as precisely as it had been told to her. "I killed him, and I cut off his head, and I stuffed the white scarf he had worn in mourning for me into his mouth, and then I wrapped it all up in one of my Cobalt pennants and delivered it in a box to the Linkensterne garrison under cover of darkness."

Her father opened and closed his mouth several times, but when nothing came out she answered his unvoiced question: "I mean, I didn't. Obviously. No. But tell that to Empress Ryuki; she's just declared war against the Cobalt Company. Oh, and offered governorship of Linkensterne to whoever brings her my head. So there's that."

Like everything else about her adventure in the Crimson Empire, it sounded so simple when she said it out loud. Instead of yelling at her, like she expected, her second father stepped forward and held her, and though her hand started hurting worse than ever and her back ached under his embrace, she did not join Kang-ho in shedding tears. She was too busy planning what to do next.

After her meeting with Hoartrap, Zosia had a powerful need to be away from Choplicker for a spell, and so before she entered the prisoner's tent she stopped in the darkness between campfires. Kneeling down, she scratched behind the monster's ears, scratched like she'd never scratched before. He groaned happily, licked her shaking hand.

"We've got a history, old devil," she told him. "I hope our future goes better for both of us. Now go treat yourself to whatever you want, so long as it harms no mortal."

He was off like an arrow, not giving her so much as a parting bark as he loped away. Zosia instantly regretted her carelessness-just what treat would he be able to secure for himself; how far might he range from their camp to obtain it?

Near on twenty-five years she'd had the devil bound to her, and after all this time she didn't know much more than she'd started with. Going forward she'd have to be a hell of a lot more specific with what she offered him, like she'd done in Hoartrap's tent. It had taken hours of pondering her wording before she'd dare to say it, and considering how well it had turned out, that had been a lesson, albeit an obvious one. Nothing with devils should be done rashly.

As she picked herself up, the chill of the looming winter cut through the dirndl she had not worn since the last time Efrain Hjortt had graced her with his presence. The dress no longer fit her as well, the woman who had sewn it with the help of her husband having a bit more weight on her bones, and a whole hell of a lot more on her heart. She tried to recall what Leib had said to her as they worked by the light of their hearth, what it was that had made her laugh so hard she'd pricked herself with the needle... She couldn't remember. Could barely remember the sound of his voice, though it had been but a year since he'd been taken from her. Murdered. In all that time, Zosia had spent far more hours intentionally not thinking of him to spare herself the hurt than she had cherishing the good memories. Hardly seemed right. And now she had no earthly fucking idea why he had died; if Portoles had told the truth to Hoartrap and Queen Indsorith wasn't involved, then just what in every hell was she doing out here, waging war against the Crimson Empire? What had she been doing for the past year, if not preparing to avenge him?

Doing what she did best, apparently-making a lot of people dead for no damn reason at all.

The guards saluted as she approached the tent, probably having expected her earlier in the evening. Looking at the dark flap, she almost turned around and went back to her own tent, utterly drained now that the shock she'd suffered in Hoartrap's tent was wearing off. What a fucking day: climbing mountains, fighting Imperials, fighting her friends, trafficking with devils, and to top it all, learning credulity-straining revelations. That the first new Gate in recorded memory had opened right at their feet was dire enough, a signal that forces more powerful than she could imagine were actively seeking to reshape the world. The other part of the ceremony, though, the thing that Hoartrap believed was the true purpose of the Imperial sacrifice, with the opening of the Gate but a part of the price they paid to complete the ritual... could she really believe such a thing was even possible?

Yes, she decided, she had to. Hoartrap was in fear of more than his life when he'd told her everything. If he believed it had happened, then it had.

Which meant that the Star of today was unlike the Star of any day before it, stretching back for five hundred years. The world could never go back to what it had been this morning, when she'd bandied words with an avowed heretic digging the grave for a sister of the Chain. Word would spread quickly of the miracle that happened this morning, and then the entire Star would shudder before the supreme witchery of the Burnished Chain. Everyone would become a believer. What did Hoartrap say the Chainites called it? The Day of Becoming?

It almost made what had happened to Leib and everyone else in Kypck seem small. Almost convinced her to go check if Maroto had come back to camp yet, licking his wounds. She wanted to see the look on his face when he found out Purna was alive, and all because some spoiled fop from the old capital had been nicer to his dog than Zosia had been to hers. Almost made her stagger back to her tent, so she could bury her head in her cot and sleep for days, hiding in dreams that couldn't possibly be as mad as the waking world.

Almost, but the last time Zosia had put off interrogating a prisoner who would supposedly speak only to her the woman had been murdered in the night. It was time to get the truth out of Efrain Hjortt: assuming Portoles was right and Queen Indsorith hadn't sent him to Kypck, who had? The obvious suspect was the Burnished Chain, but Zosia was done with suspicions. She was ready for facts. When the Gate had opened beneath the Imperial army the entire Fifteenth Cavalry had disappeared along with most of their regiment, which meant Hjortt was the only one left alive from that day, save her.

A day hadn't passed that she hadn't cursed herself for not finishing the job, for giving Hjortt's people the chance to save him from the fire, but now she praised the stars overhead and the devils beneath them that she'd stuck a pin in him for another day. Who knew, depending on what he told her, she might not kill him now, either-wouldn't it be something, if every time she caught Efrain Hjortt he gave up some new secret, and then she could toss him back in for another day?

"Evening, Captain Zosia," said one of the guards as she shook off her thoughts and accepted his offered lantern. "He's in a bad way, barber ain't sure he'll live the night. He doesn't seem able to move much, but we chained him to a post to play it safe."

Just like they'd bound Sister Portoles, apparently; it was enough to make a girl wonder if somebody liked her, upstairs or down. Everything happens, according to the Chain, and maybe they were on to something. "Thanks. I won't be long."

Hjortt groaned as the light of Zosia's lantern reached the foot of his cot, and exhausted as she was, much as she'd thought she'd changed over the last year, the sound of his discomfort brought a smile to her face.

"Good evening, Colonel Hjortt," she said, taking her time crossing the room. An old trick for getting the prisoner's heart moving before you even started. "It's been a while, hasn't it? And yet it seems like only yesterday."

"A very long while, but not long enough," he said, his voice hardly anything like she remembered. "I wondered how it was possible... Even after everything, I wanted it to be true, but I had my doubts. But... but it's really you."

Zosia was glad she'd saved the dirndl for him. The light reached the top of the blankets, the prisoner closing his eyes from the glare, and she nearly dropped the lantern. Whoever this beat-up old man was, he wasn't Efrain Hjortt, and she came closer, holding the lantern up as though his wax disguise would melt away, revealing her nemesis. She could almost see a resemblance in his nose, despite all the bandages on his cheek. But then she was just confused, because she did recognize him, but hadn't seen him for so long she couldn't place it...

The Fifteenth. Of course. The fucking Fifteenth Regiment out of fucking Azgaroth.

"Nicely played, Cavalera," she said, sitting down on the edge of his cot and hooding the lantern so he could open his eyes again. Disappointed though she was at being tricked, she had to respect her adversary's cunning. "They pulled you out of retirement to lure me in, huh? The disinformation was a nice touch; I would've eventually gone after the Fifteenth Cavalry, but if I thought that awful boy was still in charge I'd never be able to resist."

He slowly opened his bloodshot eyes. They were wet with tears. He looked so old. "You... you remember me?"

"Remember you? Motherfucker, you rode me worse than every other regiment combined! Why do you think I ended up on that lunatic suicide mission to storm Diadem? You'd have kept us in the high country for years without getting a crack at King Kaldruut." Zosia shook her head in amazement. Twenty-odd years ago she had cursed his name almost as much as that of the king he served, but seeing him down all the days, she recognized that he'd just been playing his part, the same as she had played hers. He'd always fought fair, too, which was more than could be said for most of his peers. "Domingo Cavalera, Colonel of the Fifteenth Regiment out of Azgaroth. I understand you probably don't believe me, given the circumstances, but by the six devils I bound, it's damn good to see an old face."

"Forgive me if I don't share your sentiment," he growled, blood leaking through the bandage on his face.

"Shit, let me get that," said Zosia, dabbing his chin with her sleeve, unable to stop smiling. What she wouldn't have given to see him laid low like this back in the day, but now... now she just felt bad for him. He was just like her, a relic of days gone by trotted out for one last job. "This is ridiculous, keeping you in irons in your condition. I'll have them unlock you immediately. Anything else I can bring you, Colonel Cavalera? Food, drink, smoke? A bug for the pain? Anything at all, I'll fetch it myself."

"Yes," he said, the words falling hard as a hammer shaping a sword. "You can give me back my son's thumbs."

Zosia froze. "What?"

"His thumbs, woman-you took them, didn't you? Bad enough you burned him like a witch, but he went into the crypt looking like a fucking thief."

Zosia stared at her old opponent, tried to speak... but nothing came out.

"And it's Hjortt now, Domingo Hjortt. I kept my wife's name, even after she left."

"Colonel... Hjortt?" Zosia sank back down to the ground, and seemed to keep sinking, all the way down to the lightless reaches beneath the earth, where the Flintlanders say the First Dark gave birth to all the monsters and devils of the world, the worst of which were named mortals. She couldn't open her eyes, couldn't do anything but let out a long, miserable sigh. She had killed Efrain Hjortt after all, had killed him first, and hadn't even realized it. Now that the hour had arrived, Zosia found herself unable to keep the promise she had made to him back in Kypck-not a single tear fell to mark the passing of the young colonel who had set her on this blood-drenched road, the path that had seemed so obvious a year before now lost in shadow.

And now she was the only one left alive from that day in Kypck, with no more answers than she had started with. She would never hear from Efrain Hjortt's lips who had sent him, because she had been so convinced she had known that she hadn't even asked him before cutting off his thumbs and setting him on fire. Leib forgive her, she was every bit as mad a monster as her enemies had always said. It didn't matter if it was an empire or a village, everything Zosia touched fell into ruin-even if the younger Hjortt were here to give her one answer, she knew that behind it would be the deeper truth that her husband and the rest of his village were killed because of Zosia. If she had never gone to Leib after abdicating the Crimson Throne, never convinced him to retire with her to his childhood home, he and every other villager who had died in the massacre would still be alive. That was why the six devils were first drawn to her, before she and her Five Villains bound them: because no matter where she went or what she tried to do, Zosia sowed misery and death.