He shook his head. “I’m afraid we have need of you. Winter Ihernglass is an object of great curiosity to the pontifex, and I am assured that you know her best of all.” And, he thought to himself, we need to salvage something out of this debacle. If you couldn’t win a battle, the next best thing was to acquire advantages that might help you win the next time.

“I’m not going to tell you anything,” Jane spit. She grinned, savagely, and spread her hands. “If that’s what you want, you might as well kill me now. If you can.”

“I don’t doubt your resolve,” Ionkovo said. “If my colleague the Liar were here, we could do this in situ, but I’m afraid he is inconveniently deceased. Thus, in order to get what I need, I will have to take you with me.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you, either—”

Ionkovo could move very fast when he had to. He’d drawn another knife, a tiny, thin one, little more than a needle, and held it flat against his side while they spoke. Now he whipped it across the cell, sinking it into Jane’s neck just above her collar. She slapped at the little blade, knocking it away and leaving only a tiny cut. When she looked back at him, perplexed, he could see the toxin was already taking effect. Her pupils widened, and she swayed on her feet.

“What . . . ,” she managed before collapsing in a boneless heap.

“Something we use at Elysium,” he said. “Transporting the demonically possessed can be hazardous, so we’ve developed a few useful techniques for handling prisoners. Sleep now.”

Ionkovo waited another count of fifty, until he was sure Jane’s eyes were closed and her breathing was slow and regular. Then he lifted her onto his shoulder, with some difficulty, and concentrated hard.

He couldn’t bring other people with him into the shadows if they were awake; he suspected their will interfered with the clarity he needed for the process. With a great effort, he could force the door open wide enough to admit himself and an unconscious companion, though even a short trip would leave him drained and gasping. These days, he took care to drug his would-be passengers thoroughly. Once a young boy he’d been carrying had awoken while on the other side of the shadow, and the results had been unsettling, even to one like Ionkovo, who was hardened by years of service.

But Jane was out cold, and would be for some hours. Ionkovo exerted his will and drew aside the veil, stepping out the way he had come. He took the keys with him. It wasn’t strictly necessary, but their absence, with the murdered guard, would make it look as if Jane had somehow escaped on her own. That would cause a bit of consternation, he judged.