The Infernal Battalion (The Shadow Campaigns #5)

Winter looked at Feor. The young priestess went pale, and swallowed.

“You want to use my naath,” Feor said quietly. “What your priests call the Caryatid.”

“Bobby saved me when the Beast ambushed us at Elysium,” Winter said. “She had wings, and she flew. It was...” Her throat went tight, and she forced herself to stay calm. “She was beautiful.”

“Before that happened,” Feor said, “she burned, didn’t she?”

Winter nodded, not trusting her voice for a moment. Feor cast her eyes down.

“I have learned... a great deal since we left Khandar,” she said. “There are more than just the naath in the archive. Mother never told me the true purpose of my power, only the barest outlines of what it could do.”

“She hoarded knowledge like precious stones,” the Ghost said. “A legacy of so many years in the shadows, perhaps.”

“The naath I bear was once used to create temple guardians, in times of direst emergency,” Feor went on. “A worthy woman would submit to the ritual, as you saw me do for Bobby. And then... before battle, she would step into the flames and emerge transformed. Endowed with great power, her mortal body purified.”

“And then?” Winter said quietly.

“Such power cannot last. The life that flares so bright soon burns out.” Feor’s eyes were fixed on the floor. “I swear I did not know when you brought Bobby to me. I...”

“It’s all right,” Winter said gently. “She would have died if not for you. You gave her another year.” She blinked away tears. “That has to be worth something.”

“I’ve never heard of a demon that bestows power on others instead of the host,” Abraham said. “But if they don’t live long, it makes sense. The demon wouldn’t want its own host to die.” He shifted as Alex elbowed him in the ribs. “Apologies. I...”

Feor waved it away, looking up. “I felt it, when Bobby’s power rose and died away. I wondered if it meant you had died with her.”

“She saved me,” Winter repeated. “And now that she’s... gone, you can use the ritual again, can’t you?”

“I... can.” Feor bit her lip. “But as I said, if done properly, it means death.”

“Can you make me into one of these guardians?” Winter’s heart skipped a beat as she voiced the question, but she had to ask.

“No. Naath are jealous things. They will not coexist in the same body.”

Winter let out a breath. “Okay. So we need someone who doesn’t have her own demon.”

“Is there not another way?” Feor said, looking around the circle. “I... do not wish to condemn another to death.”

Winter closed her eyes for a moment. Sometimes, she thought, it would be nice to be able to pray and mean it.

“In a few days,” she said, “thirty thousand men and women are going out to fight. Whatever happens, however clever Marcus’ strategy is and however brave we are, people are going to die, by the thousand. Every time I give the order to take a hill or charge a battery, I know that some of those soldiers are not coming back. I’m not going to pretend it’s an easy thing. But if we have a weapon that might save some of them and we have to sacrifice one life to use it, then I don’t see how we can let it lie.”

“You cannot order them,” Feor said. “Not for this. I will not do it.”

“Of course. It will be a volunteer,” Winter agreed.

“Will you be able to find someone?” Alex said. “We’re talking about a suicide mission.”

Winter’s mind went back to Murnsk, her desperate pursuit of the Penitent Damned and the way the Girls’ Own soldiers had fought to be allowed to come along. She shook her head. “We’ll manage.”

*

The others left, Alex and Abraham back to the Second Division camp and the Ghost to his self-?appointed patrol of the city. Winter remained, sitting across from Feor, while students brought them cups of hot coffee with lowered eyes. Winter told her story, for what felt like the tenth time, and Feor told her what had happened after the army had left for the Murnskai border.

“At first Janus asked for naathem to fight his enemies,” she said. Her face was haunted. “My first student, Auriana, read her naath, but she was not ready. It... damaged her, her face and her limbs. She told me she was happy with the trade, but I knew I could not ask another to take that risk.”

“At the Mountain, they test the children to see if they’re strong enough to bear the demons they need.” She remembered her visit to one such family, where a boy had taken on the burden his older brother had first attempted. “It doesn’t always work.”

Feor nodded. “I know the Priests of the Black simply sacrifice captives until they find one whose soul can bear the strain. Mother was... misled about many things, but she was not wrong about their cruelty.”

“What happened to Auriana?” Winter said.

“She died,” Feor said. “When the Penitent Damned took the Thousand Names, during Maurisk’s coup. She held them long enough for the rest of us to escape.”

“I’m sorry.” Winter sipped her coffee, which was thick and strong, in the Khandarai style. Just the smell of it conjured up memories. “You’re still teaching the others?”

“Yes. Some of them may be strong enough to bear a naath, with proper preparation. But it will take time. I fear we cannot offer you much assistance.”

“What you’re doing for us is enough,” Winter said. “I know it can’t be easy for you.”

“It is not,” Feor said. “But you are right, I think. The Beast is coming, and our lives are as dust. What I can do, I will.”

“Mistress?” The voice from outside the curtained door was hesitant. “It’s the woman who arrived with your guest. She demands to speak with you both.”

“Of course,” Feor said. “Bring her here.”

A young man escorted Ennika through the curtain, guiding the blind girl until she reached one of the cushions beside Feor. She sat, and the student bowed and withdrew.

“Welcome,” Feor said. “My name is Feor. I understand you’ve come a long way.”

“I was hoping that you’d care for her here,” Winter said. “I thought it might help her to be around people who understood her condition.”

“Certainly. She’s welcome to stay with us as long as she likes.”

“We made a bargain,” Ennika said, turning her covered eyes on Winter. “I hope you haven’t forgotten.”

“I haven’t forgotten.” Though I might have wanted to.

“A bargain?” Feor said.

Winter sighed. “Ennika wants to be free of her demon. She’s asked me to use Infernivore to devour it. But when I took the demon from Jen Alhundt, she never recovered, and she died not long after. My other... experiences with it have been similar. I’d hoped that you might have learned something from the archive.”

Feor frowned. “There is almost nothing on Infernivore in the archive. I searched, when I started to understand the tablets, but it has been used only a few times. Most who attempted it died at once.”

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