‘Dior reached into the greatcoat I’d loaned her and pulled out my silver pipe. “Then you should throw this thing in the river, hero. Go back home and kiss your wife and hug your daughter and tell them you’re never going to leave them again.”
‘“And abandon you?”
‘“Everyone else does.”
‘There was no self-pity in those words. Fury, maybe. But wallowing in sorrow didn’t seem to be this girl’s way. A quiet came over her. Soft as shadow. I tried to remember what I’d been like at sixteen, and I could see she was older than I’d ever been at her age.
‘“You know, when Sister Chloe and Père Rafa found me, I was looking for their angle right away. I ran with a pack after my mama died. Gutter rats and pickpockets. We used to play a game at nights to keep the hunger away. Talk about what we were going to do when we got older. Meet a handsome prince and marry him. Become a famous pirate, sail the Eversea, that kind of bollocks. But no matter how grand those dreams got, not a one of us imagined we’d be the saviour of the damned world when we grew up.”
‘“What did you want to be when you grew up?”
‘Dior shrugged, looked me in the eye.
‘“Dangerous.”
‘She turned her gaze back to the flames.
‘“After Sister Chloe and Rafa told me about the prophecy, for a minute I genuinely thought it was going to be aright. So stupid of me. Everybody leaves. Mama. Saoirse. Chloe. Toff.” She gritted her teeth, furious. “Everybody.”
‘“Who’s Toff?”
‘But Dior was lost, staring into the flames.
‘“So fucking stupid …”
‘I sighed. Tired. Bloodied. Brimming with anger and sore with sorrow. Chloe was dead. Rafa, too. This wasn’t why I’d come north – getting dragged into ancient conspiracies and babysitting the descendant of the Redeemer himself? I never wanted any of this. The Volta was as far as I’d agreed to go. I should just cut my losses right now.
‘Always better to be a bastard than a fool.
‘But this girl had nothing left. For all her front, she was hanging by a thread. And strange as it seemed, unearned as it was, that thread was me.
‘“You should sleep,” I sighed. “Things will look brighter come the dawn. And we want to be moving during the day.”
‘Dior’s voice was dull as old iron. “We.”
‘“There’s a cityfort northwest of here. Redwatch. Was a rough place a decade back, and I can’t imagine it’s got softer. But we get there, we work out what comes next.”
‘“I told you, hero,” she warned. “Go back to your wife and daughter.”
‘“And I told you, girl,” I growled. “I’m a bastard, not a monster.”
‘Dior clenched her teeth, jaw squared. I could see the wheels inside her head spinning. But more, I could see sadness. Fear. All the weight of this rotten world on those scrawny shoulders. And finally, she pulled my greatcoat tight around her and met my eyes.
‘“I’m too cold to sleep.”
‘“Well, tough shit. Because you need to.”
‘Dior gazed at me across the fire. “You could warm me up?”
‘“… What?”
‘My belly took a sickening lurch as she traced one hand slowly down her neck. Fingertips drifting along her collarbone. Her lips parted, now. Her voice a purr.
‘“Tall. Dark. Damaged. You’re just my kind of poison.”
‘Her fingers reached the bandages about her chest, then rose up, one by one. And with a sigh of relief, I realized she was flipping me the Fathers again.
‘“… Had you worried there, didn’t I?”
‘A bubble of nervous laughter burst on my lips. Hanging my head, I chuckled as the girl wiggled her fingers. “You little bitch.”
‘“Oui, I’m the bitch,” she scoffed. “Shave off ten years and that disasterpiece of a beard, and you still wouldn’t have a prayer in hell, hero.”
‘I scowled, scratching my stubble. “I lost my razor.”
‘The mischievous smile on her lips dimmed. “Jesting aside, now. I’m fucking freezing. And your virtue’s safe with me. You’re married, for starters. And you’ve too many cocks.”
‘“Last I checked, I’d only the one.”
‘“As I say. Too many.”
‘Her eyes narrowed just a sliver, watching me in the flickering firelight. I recalled seeing her and Saoirse then. Lost in each other’s arms.
‘“Ah.”
‘“Ahhh,” she echoed.
‘This was a testing, I knew. Most folk didn’t hold truck with such a life, especially not the devout. But it hadn’t bothered me when I was a believer. Sure as hell didn’t bother me now. Of all people, who was I to judge someone for who they tumbled?
‘“Get comfortable, then,” I said.
‘Dior stared a moment longer, then pulled herself off the cave wall. Skinning off her sopping boots and britches, she shuffled closer to the fire. I kept my eyes averted, looking to the dark outside. When she was settled, I fetched Ashdrinker and lay down facing away from Dior, spreading my greatcoat over both of us. We weren’t much to each other in all that cold and dark and empty. But better than nothing.
‘We lay in silence for a time, back to back, crackling flames the only sound.
‘“I’m sorry,” I said eventually. “About Saoirse.”
‘Dior sighed. “I’m sorry about all of them.”
‘“… Oui.”
‘More silence. But Dior spoke again, her voice small.
‘“Hero?”
‘“What?”
‘“What if Danton comes?”
‘“He won’t. Not yet. The river.”
‘“But if he does?”
‘“I’ll keep watch. Sleep now, girl. Fear no darkness.”
‘More quiet. Lifetimes long.
‘“Hero?”
‘“What?”
‘“… Merci.”’
II
A ONCE-GREEN KINGDOM
‘“GABRIEL.”
‘The whisper woke me from bleak dreams, stained with blood’s perfume. The dark was waiting when I opened my eyes, my body stiff and aching with cold. There was warmth at my back, and I heard her murmur as I shifted, and for a second, I fancied myself back home in the bed we’d made and the life we’d built, the song of the sea in my ears. But the voice came again, not behind, but out in the night beyond the cave.
‘“Gabriel.”
‘I eased my greatcoat off us, tucking it around Dior’s back. Again, the girl stirred, frowning, eyes flickering beneath her closed lids. Dreaming of rats and mothers’ mouths, I supposed. I dragged the last log into the embers to warm her, dragged myself to my feet. And quiet as cats, I slipped into the dark outside.
‘The world was still and frozen, dark as dreaming. I saw the silver ribbon of the Volta below, a thin clifftop leading to a lonely drop. And she called again, whisper soft.
‘“Gabriel.”
‘I followed her voice, along the freezing stone and up to the very edge of that precipice. And on the other side of the river, back across the freezing Volta, I saw her on the shoreline. Just a pale shadow in the frail dawning, face framed by long locks of midnight. A beauty spot beside dark lips, one eyebrow arched as always. She stood among the snow-clad boughs and the ruins of a once-green kingdom, watching me. And she spoke then, lips moving, her voice a warm whisper in my mind.