‘“Are you two well?”
‘“Just chatting.” I gave Dior’s shoulder a squeeze. Hurting just enough to let him know it could hurt far worse. “Man to man.”
‘“… Dior?”
‘The boy shrugged my hand off, and spitting on the ground at my feet, he hefted his armful of broken lumber and stalked out the doors. Chloe watched him go with a mother’s eyes, and I wondered what in God’s name made her cleave to this lad so hard.
‘Mayhaps because she’d never have a son herself?
‘Could it be that simple?
‘“Phoebe just returned,” Chloe murmured. “Saoirse says we may have problems.”
‘“Well, there’s a pleasant change.”
‘I crunched across the broken pews towards the doors, but Chloe grabbed my arm as I tried to pass. I looked down: barely five feet of her, nunnery-raised, small and slight. But I felt the strength in her grip. Saw the fire in her eyes. “Can I trust you, Gabe?”
‘“Why wouldn’t you be able to trust me, Chlo?”
‘“You seem … different. What you said to Rafa the other day. About God—”
‘“I said I’d see you to the Volta, and I will. I’m not the one you should be fretting on.”
‘“Dior’s not what you think, Gabriel.”
‘“A grifter? A thief? He’s all that and more. I can smell it in his sweat. Hear it in his heartbeat. He’s a fucking liar, Chlo. And I’m wondering if all those years you spent buried in those books have turned you so blind you can’t see the horizon. If you want to believe in this holy cup nonsense so badly, you’ll swallow anything anyone hands you.”
‘“Trust me,” she whispered.
‘“Why? What makes you so fucking certain?”
‘She pressed her lips thin. “You remember when you used to train me in the Library? Always look your enemy in the eye? Never draw your sword unless you mean to use it?”
‘“I remember.”
‘“I took those lessons to heart.” She pulled off her glove, and I saw her palm was callused, fingers rough where once they’d only been papercut. “I’m not that little girl any more, Gabe. I know what I’m doing. And if I can’t tell you all, then I beg you forgive me. But God above, truth told, it’s best you don’t know all.” She squeezed my hand in her tiny fist. “I need your blade, mon ami. I need your strength. But most of all, I need your faith.”
‘I reached down, slowly pulled my hand out of hers.
‘“Faith’s a hard thing to come by these nights, Sister.”
‘And head bowed, I walked out into the cold.’
VI
THE PLAN
‘“WRETCHED,” SAOIRSE REPORTED. “A pack o’ them. Headed this way.”
‘We were gathered in the commonroom of the Hammered Smith, the dark sun slinking towards the horizon as if it’d earned a rest. Bellamy had got a fire roaring, and I had my gloves off, warming my hands in the twice-blessed heat. Saoirse crouched beside Phoebe, scratching the big cat under her collar. The lioness yawned, steam rising off her russet fur as she stretched out beside me, close to the flames.
‘Old Rafa’s voice was muffled inside the blankets he’d stolen from upstairs.
‘“How many?”
‘“A dozen, mebbe,” Saoirse replied. “Phoebe spied them a few miles east. Moving slow in the storm, like. But they’ll move quicker when the sun goes all the way down.”
‘“They may pass us by,” I said. “We’ve no reason to think they know we’re here.”
‘Chloe met my eyes. “They know, Gabe. They’re coming for us.”
‘“… How can you be certain?”
‘Saoirse hefted her axe and shield. “They’re comin’， Silversaint.”
‘I sighed, dragged my hand through my hair. A dozen wretched were nothing to scoff at, but at least we had warning they were on the way. So I reached out to give Phoebe a grateful pat. “Merci, mademois – fuck!”
‘The lioness snarled and bared her fangs, and I snatched my hand back before she took it off at the wrist. Saoirse looked down at my tattooed fingers and grinned.
‘“Might want to be keepin’ yer hands to yerself. Like most lasses, Phoebe’s not wild about touchin’ without permission.”
‘The she-lion licked her scarred chops, growled deep enough for me to feel it in my chest.
‘“So noted.” I slipped my gloves back on and stood. “Right, well. If we’re certain these unholy bastards are on the way, we’d best get our garters up and our pants back on.”
‘“You mean to fight them?” Rafa asked.
‘“We sure as hell can’t run in this storm. Once we repair the palisade, we have a fortified position. And we’ve a lake behind us.”
‘Bellamy frowned. “Old ballads speak ill of armies that fought with water to their backs, Chevalier. If memory serves, you yourself won the Battle of Tarren Moor by—”
‘“What do you get when you add a priest to water, Bouchette?”
‘“In this weather?” Dior frowned at the shivering Rafa. “Pneumonia?”
‘I picked up a dusty wine bottle and twisted the old candle stump from its neck. “Watch and learn, you little shitweasel.”
‘We set about it, and though Saoirse still rankled a little at being told what to do, Chloe’s faith in me was enough to carry her over the line. I drew a map of the town in charcoal on the Hammered Smith’s floorboards and set each member of the company a task. Thinking swift. Talking swifter. It’d been more than a decade since I led the defence of anything more than a moment of peace and quiet on the privy, but the mantle slipped over my shoulders like a well-worn coat.
‘Bellamy and I set about repairing the defences, tearing timbers from abandoned houses and piling them in the palisade breaches. I took another hit from my pipe, blood-red and brimming, and the young soothsinger stood wide-eyed as I rammed broken timbers into the frozen earth by hand, smashing them deeper with a sledgehammer scrounged from the stables.
‘After an hour or so, Dior came crunching through the howling snow, pushing a barrow piled with wine bottles full of cloudy loch water. Climbing the stairs, the boy began stacking them on the highwalks beside the breaches.
‘Bellamy tipped his cap and grinned. “All’s well, M. Lachance?”
‘The boy shrugged, called over the roaring wind. “Saoirse found an old barrel of tallow in the pub cellar, and Sister Chloe is fashioning some fire arrows with it. Père Rafa’s spitting blessings fast as he can.” Dior hefted one of the bottles in hand, glanced at me. “I have to admit, I’m two-thirds of one-eighth impressed, hero.”
‘I slammed another timber downwards, teeth gritted as it crunched into the ground. “You honestly can’t imagine the relief I feel at meeting your approval, boy.”
‘“If you’re impressed now, Dior, wait ’til tonight. You’re like to see a sight unrivalled.” Bellamy pulled his cloak tighter, grinning. “To witness the Black Lion himself in battle … the Ashdrinker unleashed. God Almighty, that’ll be worth a song and no mistake.”