Seraphina hadn’t noticed when she’d leaned in so far that her head was practically inside the crate. She touched her hand to her chest, reaching for the crucifix that wasn’t there.
Nine was aware of how close she was. If he’d wanted to, he could’ve grabbed her by the throat ten times already. He made no move in her direction.
Now she knew how Rune had gained his freedom. It was another piece of his history, of what he’d been through, and she tucked it away like a precious thing.
“The captain is the master of this particular Obedience Lattice,” he said. “In case you wanted to know.”
“Kill him, the field drops, you’re free,” Seraphina murmured.
“Not free. Yours.” He looked at Idris. “And yours to dissect, master surgeon.”
Idris had been called many things, but never a master.
“Don’t…” He choked on the word and turned away, running a hand over his face. “We’re not killing anyone, Seraphina.”
She scrunched up her nose. “Why not? One of the Harvester’s captains? We’d do the world a favor.”
He stared at her in disbelief. “Who are you? What have you become?”
“Oh, don’t give me that.I’m exactly who this war made me into. Do you think the Seraphina you knew back in school would’ve survived?”
“You have no idea how grateful I am that you did, and you’re here, and we found each other again. But don’t be like them. Don’t stoop to their level.”
“It would be impossible to stoop to their level, Idris. I don’t rape, I just kill. I don’t mutilate, either. I make it quick and merciful, if you think about it.”
He opened his mouth, but he was speechless, staring at her as if he were seeing her for the first time. Seraphina cocked an eyebrow. Well, that argument was easily won. Because she was right, of course.
That didn’t make him wrong, though. She understood his stance and respected it. What wouldn’t she have given to be able to adopt it. It was too late for her.
Four names: Viktor Eisengrau, Otto Krause, Leopold Holzer, Thomas Mayer. Add to that Georg Hartmann. Five, then. Theyhad made Seraphina into a murderer. Two had gotten what had been coming for them. She wouldn’t rest until the other three met her blades as well. No remorse – not now, and not on her death bed. They didn’t deserve it.
A line from some sermon she’d once heard in church came to her -Forgiveness is not for them, my children. It is for you.
That was all right. Seraphina didn’t deserve it either.
She turned to the soldier who’d been waiting patiently, in silence, and stepped into his line of sight.
“You, go get your captain. Tell him there’s something wrong with the revenant but say no more.”
The man headed out of the barn and in the direction of the village. His walk was stiff, not too slow, nor too quick. The rhythmic sound of his boots faded after a minute. It had started snowing again.
Seraphina took out her daggers and inspected them, then looked around the barn trying to decide what position to take in preparation for the captain’s arrival. She didn’t have to do it here, she supposed. She could meet him and the sentry before they reached the barn, and spare Idris the scene. The fact that she was going to kill someone in only a few minutes didn’t upset her. She noticed this with detachment. It had to be done, so there was no point in digging for feelings that weren’t there, and if they were and she discovered them, they wouldn’t matter. They needed to free the revenant from the latticed crate, and this was the only way.
“Seraphina, let’s think about it,” Idris tried.
“I have, and the only other option I see is to leave empty-handed.”
He shook his head.
“That’s what I thought,” she said.
When he shot her an annoyed glance, she sighed and walked up to him, put a hand on his arm and squeezed reassuringly.
“Leave this to me, all right? You don’t even have to be here. Or I’ll go outside and do it, behind the barn.”
“Do you hear yourself? You’re talking about ending a man’s life in such a cold, indifferent manner.”
“A man who ordered the slaughter of hundreds, maybe thousands of innocent people. You’re right, I shouldn’t be cold and indifferent. I should be raging.”
