‘“God stands with us, brothers,” Baptiste breathed. “We cannot fall.”
‘“No fear,” I whispered.
‘Aaron nodded. “Only fury.”
‘And then, they hit us.
‘Out of the dark, hissing and clawing. A swarm, dead eyes full of hunger, fangs glinting as lightning split the sky. The wretched of Talhost wore the clothes they were murdered in – courtly dresses or peasant rags, frockcoats or threadbare tunics, acres of pale and bloodless skin. There was no form to their ranks, just numbers and teeth and sheer, unholy strength, set to drain all the world to dust and bones.
‘But mighty fucking Redeemer, we were untouchable. That rotted host came on like a flood, and as they reached our light, they broke like water on stone. Our inkwork blinded them, our silversteel cut them like scythe to wheat. The air was ashes and blood as we fought, snows drenched red. Looking to the northern ridge as lightning cracked the sky, I spied the tiny figures of Brother Noam and the other blackthumbs burying their barrels of black ignis at the snowpack’s base. Silvershot whizzed past our heads from the sisters above, and at the edge of our light, I saw wretched fall, skulls shattered, bones splintering.
‘Everyone knows war is hell, coldblood. But there’s a heaven in it too. A savage joy in standing on the ground where your enemy wants you to fall. I couldn’t feel my body. I might have known the scrape of a claw or the brief twinge of a cracking bone. But pain? Pain was for the enemy. Pain and silver.
‘And then, I felt him.
‘The kiss of serpent’s fangs to my skin. The bleak infinity of countless years, the dust on the tombs of forgotten kings. The weight of a presence impossible, a mind unknowable, pressing in on mine out of the long and lonely black.
‘The mind of a Forever King.
‘I saw him, as if he stood before me. His skin, hair, eyes – all bleached snow-pale by years beyond counting and sins past reckoning. A youth, fey and eternal, beautiful and terrible, wreathed in an unlight so cold and bitter-bleak my heart felt frozen in my chest. And I heard him speak in my head then, across the blood-drenched snow between us, and his words were the song that would unmake the world.
‘“I see thee.”
‘“Great Redeemer …” I whispered.
‘“I feel him too,” Aaron gasped.
‘The wretched came on, and our silversteel gleamed, blood-red and holy-bright. But they were nothing, I realized, nothing compared to what walked behind them with steady tread, implacable, inescapable, no impulse so base as haste to ruin the portrait as he strode towards us, surrounded by his children, his grandchildren, his brood entire – a dread court of the Blood, with all the time in creation upon their side.
‘And then I heard screams. Behind.
‘“Gabriel!”
‘Astrid …
‘“GABRIEL!”
‘Heart dropping into my belly, I looked back up the slope, saw torches burning against pale grey – Brother Noam and the other smiths dancing in the dark. And by their light, I saw a figure, familiar, weaving among them like a shadow and cutting them down into the snow.
‘A shadow wrapped in red.
‘“Laure …”’
XV
IN RED
‘I CURSED MYSELF. Of course that unholy bitch would be here to meet her father as he crossed the Godsend. Laure Voss had come upon us from behind like a thief, and I’d left our backs exposed like a fool. From the look, Noam and the others had set the ignis charges, but now Laure was tearing them to pieces, and with none to light the fuse …
‘“Can you hold them?” I roared to Aaron, cutting down another wretched.
‘“Or die trying!”
‘“When I give the signal, you run back up this slope!”
‘“Go, Little Lion!” Baptiste bellowed. “Almighty go with you!”
‘Turning from my brothers, I dashed back up the ridge. I saw the bright blooms of silverbombs, sluices of blood. The blackthumbs fought bravely, but they were Brothers of the Hearth, not Hunt, and they stood now against a daughter of the Forever King.
‘Their torches sputtered and failed, plunging the ridge back into darkness. Lightning split the sky, a brilliant arc, and I saw a blood-red shadow flickering across the snow towards the tower of Sanael, and the sisters firing from its shelter.
‘“Charlotte, get back! Astrid, RUN!”
‘I heard a scream in the black, heart twisting in my chest, but then I was among them, sword high, scything towards that figure bathed in my aegis’s light. Laure was drenched to the armpits in gore, chin and throat painted scarlet, all semblance of the beauty I’d seen in Coste cast aside. A monster now, bleak and true.
‘Slipping aside from my blow and flashing back to the fringe of my light, the Forever Prince drew herself up to her full height. Her scarlet gown flowed about her like mist in the freezing winds, long red hair plastered to the blood soaking her skin.
‘“Get back!” I spat. “In the name of God and Redeemer!”
‘“I told thee once, boy. No power hast thy God over me.”
‘The sisters gathered behind me in the shelter of my light. I could feel Astrid there, and I breathed a prayer of thanks. But the bodies of other sisters were split and bleeding in the snow, Keeper Logan and Keeper Micah beside them. Glancing down the slope, I could see Aaron and Baptiste had lost their ground, falling back now before that relentless tide. We had only moments before the legion swept up the pass and overran us all.
‘Laure smiled, and I felt the venom of her, seeping into my mind.
‘“I shall have thee on thy knees, frailblood. I shall taste thee unto dying.”
‘A grey crust of ashes and blood was on my skin, and my aegis burned with holy fire. Laure’s eyes narrowed against it as I hurled my last silverbomb, feeling the heat on my skin as I swung my blade. I threw all I had behind that blow, and it landed true. But her flesh was ever stone as I struck her, and her fist was a battering ram as she hit me back.
‘The breath left my lungs. I felt something tear. And then I was flying, hitting hard. Black stars bloomed as Laure leaned over me, arms open to break me.
‘Tiny thunder blasts rang out across the ridge, a half-dozen shots of pure and blessed silver crashing into Laure’s face, chest, throat. She reeled backwards, a cobweb of cracks across her skin. I blinked the blood from my eyes, Prioress Charlotte roaring, “Reload!”
‘All heaven held its breath. All time stood still. I rose up out of the snow, Lionclaw in my fist, and with all my strength and the name of God upon my lips, I drew back my blade and plunged it into Laure’s chest.
‘Again, she struck me, claws tearing my skin and sending me flying back into the tower. The masonry smashed to dust as I hit, blood in my mouth, ribs shattering. The ancien staggered as she clutched Lionclaw, now buried to the hilt in her chest. But still, this Ironheart bitch wouldn’t fucking fall. Her face twisted, and my heart sank as she took hold of the blade with smoking hands and dragged it from her shattered breast.
‘“I am a Prince of Forever. Think ye a sliver such as this can end me?”
‘Prioress Charlotte stepped forward, the wheel about her neck like silver fire, the clawmarks across her face twisting as she bellowed, “In the Mothermaid’s name, I say back!”