Alex limped into view, one hand raised. Her hair was matted, and blood ran down her face. As Winter watched, she coughed, spilling more blood onto her chin. But she grinned defiantly, teeth stained red.
“Winter!” she shouted hoarsely. “Do it!”
“No,” Jane snarled. “Westeb! Kill her!”
The tall Penitent lurched forward, his tongueless voice making a strange croaking sound. He pushed through the blast of the sandstorm and raised his hands, shimmering coronas dancing around them.
Like a hawk diving at a rabbit, Sothe came at him, wings folded, dropping out of the sky with shocking speed. The Penitent heard her coming just in time, and twisted aside as the marble assassin executed a neat somersault and landed on her feet, her arm coming around at throat height with blade in hand. His distortion shimmered around her wrist, but her strength was far more than human, pushing the blade forward in spite of the power of his magic. Across the bottom of his mask it left a long, ragged line that drooled blood, but Sothe hadn’t had enough force left to sever the artery. The Penitent tightened his fist, and the rainbow colors around Sothe’s arm redoubled, tightening their grip.
“Forget her!” Jane said, backing up along the ruined beam as Winter stumbled toward her. “Kill Winter. Kill her now!”
The Penitent kept one hand pointed at Sothe while the other swung toward Winter. Sothe jerked toward him, but the distortion held her arm fast now, keeping him just beyond her reach. The assassin paused, spread her wings, then lunged, throwing all her awesome strength into the leap. Her arm, pinned to the air, was wrenched backward, the elbow first bending the wrong way and then tearing free entirely in a spray of stone chips. The Penitent barely had time to turn back to Sothe before she landed on his chest with the weight of a falling statue, bearing him to the ground as distorted colors bloomed all around her.
The desert wind was blowing again, pushing and slashing at the approaching red-?eyes, while Alex fired bolt after ebony bolt to bring down the closest. Jane had reached the end of the beam she was standing on, her eyes now locked on Winter, and her grin seemed forced.
“You don’t want this,” she said. “I know you don’t.”
Winter lunged with the last of her strength. Jane shifted backward another step, missed her footing and the pile of rubble, and went sprawling, rolling over to land faceup in the dirt. Before she could rise, Winter was on her, grabbing her wrist with her left hand.
Infernivore raged, as though it knew the scent of the prey it had once been denied. It roared through the spot where they touched, flowing from Winter’s body into Jane’s, wrapping itself around the great crimson form of the Beast. Jane snarled, and her other hand came up, grabbing Winter by the back of her neck. She forced her head down, as though for a kiss, and the red lights in her eyes flared until they obliterated the world.
*
Winter found herself standing... somewhere else.
There was nothing underfoot but a swirling dark whirlwind, stretching away endlessly in every direction. Overhead, banks of black cloud streamed past, as though driven by a hurricane. Two shapes slammed and grappled against each other, sending ripples through the sky. They were serpents of light, as big as worlds, glowing with brilliant energy as they thrashed and spun. One was a bright, vibrant green, the other a deep, sullen red. Lightning of both colors crackled between them. Each serpent had a hold of the other near the tail, locking them together, each devouring the other and being devoured in turn.
Just in front of her, staring up at the warring titans, was Jane. Her hair writhed around her, driven by the intangible wind, and her whole body was outlined in red light. Her eyes were pure crimson brilliance, from edge to edge.
The last time Infernivore and the Beast had done battle, it had been for only an instant, but it had been nothing like this. It must have shown on Winter’s face, because Jane smiled, arcs of crimson lightning playing over her teeth.
“Not what you were expecting?” Her voice was shot through with a roar like thunder. “I have grown since we last met, Winter.”
“Not enough,” Winter said. “I will destroy you.”
“Perhaps.” Jane cocked her head. “But not before I destroy you as well. Is that really what you want?”
“It’s not about what I want,” Winter said. “It’s about what needs to be done.”
“What needs to be done.” Jane strode closer, eyes flaring bright. When she spoke again, her voice sounded more like Jane’s and less like a monster’s. “That’s what you care about, isn’t it? Your precious duty.”
“You never understood me,” Winter said.
“Never understood you?” Jane’s mouth twisted into a red-?tinged snarl. “I loved you. Back at the Prison, I gave you my heart. I forgave you, even when you left me for that monster Ganhide. Do you know what he did to me? Shall I tell you about our wedding night?”
“I shouldn’t have run.” Winter’s voice was quiet.
“I forgave you,” Jane repeated. “And when you came back, it made everything worthwhile. Everything I’d gone through, every awful thing I’d endured, all the blood I’d spilled. All of it! I loved you, and I thought you loved me.”
Winter shut her eyes for a moment. “I did love you, Jane.”
“Liar!”
Overhead, the great serpents writhed. Red lightning slashed against green, bolts colliding and detonating in showers of sparks. The wind moaned like it was in agony.
“If you love someone, you don’t abandon her,” Jane said. “You don’t choose your uniform and your fucking general over her.”
“I did love you,” Winter said. She felt oddly calm amid the thunderous crash of battling demons. This, at least, she understood. “But you’re wrong. You don’t give up your own mind just because you love someone. There was more to my life than you.”
“Fuck that,” Jane snarled. “You’re a fucking traitor.”
“I’m sorry you can’t understand.”
“You’re sorry.” Jane’s snarl abruptly vanished. “It’s all right. I forgive you. Again. All you have to do is give in, Winter. Just let go, and we can be together forever, here inside the Beast.”
“What about the rest of the world?”
“Fuck the rest of the world. I don’t care about it, and neither do you.”
“You’re wrong,” Winter said.
“If you keep fighting, we’ll both die,” Jane said. “The demons will devour each other, and that will be the end of everything. Is that what you want?”
“No.” Winter took a deep breath. “I want to live. I want to kiss Cyte, and help Raesinia, and get to know my brother. I want to see what happens next, once the wars are finally over.”
“You don’t need any of that,” Jane said. “We’ll have each other. When we were at the Prison, that was enough.”
“It wasn’t,” Winter said. “We just didn’t know any better.”
“Please, Winter. Don’t do this.”