Page 101 of The Infernal Battalion

“I’m sorry,” Winter told Abraham, outside the shack. “I know you don’t like doing this.”

He sighed. “My goal is to save lives. Sometimes, in pursuit of that, I am required to do... a little harm.” He flexed his fingers.

“You’re sure you can do it?”

“Oh, yes. The only delicate thing is making sure the illness isn’t a fatal one. Kollowrath seemed relatively young and fit?”

“From the little I saw of him.”

“I, for one, wouldn’t mind if you messed up,” Alex said. “If the fight this morning really was his fault.”

Winter had to admit she’d had that same thought. Maybe we shouldn’t have told Dobraev anything, and just made it look like Kollowrath died naturally. But there would have been no guarantee then that anyone would listen to them. And now we’ve tipped our hand. Dobraev is bright and honest. A dangerous combination, if he’s not on board.

“I’ll wait here,” Winter said. “Get it done as fast as you can. We’re running out of darkness.”

Alex nodded and loped off into the shadows, Abraham following at a more dignified pace. Winter settled her back against the palisade, staring up at the stone keep and fighting off exhaustion. She hadn’t slept since the previous evening, not counting a few hours of exhausted unconsciousness. Every part of her ached, and her eyelids kept slipping downward.

She caught a glimpse of a dark shape clinging to the outside of the keep, but only for a moment. Winter tried to calm her racing heart. Greatest thief in the world, remember? This is a walk in the park for her.

At some point she must have dozed, because the next thing she knew her eyes snapped open at the sounds of footsteps. Alex was returning, grinning like a cat, with Abraham in tow.

“No problem,” she said. “The shutters weren’t even locked. I swear, people put a guard at the door and think they’re safe; it’s ridiculous.”

“You did it?” Winter said.

Abraham nodded. “He’ll be unconscious for at least a few days, and feverish for a while after that. But he’ll live, if someone takes care of him.”

“I’m sure Lieutenant Dobraev will make sure that happens.”

“Now what?” Alex said.

Winter shook her head grimly. “Now for the hard part.”

*

Alex once again lifted them over the wall, this time without Abraham having to incapacitate a guard. They crossed the cleared ground around the fortress as dawn was breaking and regained the cover of the trees. Alex led the way to where the Haeta were waiting, gathered at the edge of the woods to gauge the Murnskai defenses.

“I don’t know what Vess has told them,” Winter said. “So be careful—”

Wham. A spear sprouted, as if by magic, from the trunk of a tree just beside Winter’s head, the shaft vibrating from the force of the throw. Two Haeta girls rose out of the underbrush, weapons ready. Alex raised her hands, but Winter threw up an arm to stop her.

“That was a warning,” one of the girls said. “In deference to what you did for us. Vess has said you are no longer welcome.”

“I need to speak with her,” Winter said. “Please.”

“She will not talk to you,” the girl said.

“Please,” Winter said. “You’re... Ceft, aren’t you? And Huld, I remember the story you told the night after the wolves. The sad one, about the girl and the wolf-​boy.”

Ceft lowered her spear a fraction. “She has made herself clear.”

“She’s not thinking straight, and she’s going to get you all killed,” Winter said. “You see that. There’s a hundred soldiers in that fortress, and hundreds more civilians. You can’t fight them all.”

“We can try,” Huld said.

“Just take me to Vess. That’s all I ask. If she doesn’t want to talk to me, that’s her decision.”

The pair looked at each other. Ceft nodded slowly.