The Colonel looked up at the ceiling with a grimace. “General Sachs seems to have decided that he’d rather see me dead than preserve the capitol building.”

He looked at Tool. “You see the sorts of barbarians I fight? They care nothing for this place or what it once was. They care nothing for its history. I seek to rebuild, and all they seek to do is to tear down and scavenge.”

“I’ve spent time in your arenas,” Tool said dryly. “Your patriotic talk rings hollow.”

Stern grinned, unapologetic. “I didn’t know you had value then. By the time I discovered what you truly were, you were effecting a rather daring escape. Now I know. And now I offer you a bargain.”

Tool looked over at Mahlia. She lay bloodied and bruised, almost lifeless. Stern waited. Tool could feel his eagerness. All Tool’s life, men like Stern had found a use for him. The half-man was, as his name implied, useful. Something men sought to wield, again and again.

Another explosion echoed down from above. Stern didn’t move, waiting.

“Don’t bother,” Mahlia croaked suddenly, breaking Tool’s thoughts. “He’ll just kill us later.”

Stern frowned. “Be quiet, castoff. This is a discussion for adults.”

“He’ll just kill me when you’re dead,” she said. “He’ll use us up, just like they use everyone up.”

“Not so different from any other leader,” Tool said. “Generals are in the habit of using up all the people around them. It’s their job. It’s what they do best.”

Stern nodded seriously. “We’ve both walked those paths.”

“I never turned children to war,” Tool said.

“Only because you fought on the side of wealth,” Stern retorted. “You think I want to fight with children? This was not my preference. The Army of God started the practice. Or else it was the Revolution Riders, or perhaps it was the Blackwater Alliance. It’s hard to remember where these things began, but I assure you, it was not my choice. But I’ll be damned if I’ll let our effort die because I failed to use every tool at my disposal. And any general worth his rank would do the same. If all you are given is a rock, you still must strike with it.”

“I thought you were a colonel.”

“Don’t split hairs with me. If you don’t like the ugly cast of this war, then help me end it. With your help, the war ends, and the children go back to innocence and toys. What say you? I offer you an honorable fight, and a rank that befits your considerable skill, and your friend lives in safety. With me, you are no longer a fugitive, but the commander of an army. What say you to that?”

Tool studied the man, considering his options, but again Mahlia’s voice interrupted his thoughts.