“Go!” Winter said. “Joanna, can you keep a sword to this bastard’s throat?”

Joanna nodded, a vicious grin on her face. She patted Barley and drew her blade, shifting it awkwardly to her unwounded arm. Sothe bent back to the padlock as Andy and Bobby piled another pair of armchairs against the door.

“You,” Winter heard Andy remark to Bobby as they went back for the last two, “are a lot tougher than you look.”

“Got it,” Sothe said. The door swung open.

Winter had only seen the Queen of Vordan on state occasions, in formal mourning dress. She hadn’t really expected to find her imprisoned in a voluminous gown, but she certainly hadn’t pictured this: a short, slight young woman, in boyish trousers, bare-shouldered, with a bedsheet tied around her torso. Sothe dropped to one knee, head down.

“Hi,” Raesinia said. “What kept you?”

“We ran into some . . . difficulties.” Sothe kept her head down. “I’m sorry. I should never have—”

“Done what I told you to do?” Raesinia said, grinning.

“Yes.” Sothe looked up, and Winter wasn’t sure what was more shocking, the tears gleaming in her eyes or the smile on her face. “I should never, ever have done that.”

Raesinia extended a hand to her servant and pulled her up, then wrapped her arms around her. When they finally stepped apart, she seemed to notice the carnage in the room beyond for the first time.

“Oh,” she said. “I heard the fighting, but I didn’t realize . . .” She took a deep breath and looked at Winter. “You’re in command?”

Winter wasn’t sure if she was supposed to salute or not. She settled on a bow. “Yes, Your Majesty. Colonel Winter Ihernglass.”

Once before, outside the Vendre, she’d felt Infernivore stir in Raesinia’s presence. Glutted with two meals, it nonetheless shifted uneasily now. Winter wondered if there was a limit to its hunger, and resolved not to touch the queen if she could possibly help it. She thought she could restrain the demon, but no sense taking chances.

“Are your people all right?” Raesinia looked over the scattered, dismembered corpses, showing none of the squeamishness Winter might have expected from the gently born. “It looks like a bomb went off in here.”

“That’s more or less what happened. We lost one on the stairway, and—” Winter looked at Vicky, who was standing beside the slumped sergeant. The ranker shook her head, tears cutting through the powder-grime that coated her face. “Two. Everyone else should live, if we can get out of here.”

Raesinia was silent for a moment, her jaw set, then let out a breath. “Any plans for that?”

*   *   *

RAESINIA

Two more, dead for my sake. More sacrifices for a life that isn’t even real. Raesinia fought down her feelings and kept her face impassive.

Winter looked uncomfortable. “Not . . . yet. There’s about twenty Patriots on the other side of that door.”