Although it hurt that Sigmund had vanished without a word, I had to admit that given how I’d left him, it was fairly done. At any rate, I knew where he lived and could seek him out at will, and so I floated back to the Old Rail Yard in a happy haze. Tail wagging ferociously, Sleipnir trotted out from under the railcar to greet me, and as I knelt to ruffle the bristles around his neck, I realized that I’d completely forgotten to ask how my other dog was doing. After all, Starlight had always been more mine than my brother’s, and almost certainly missed me in a much more straightforward manner.

I should probably have inquired after our parents too.

Instead, like the paragon of filial piety I was, what I had queried Sigmund about was the Tartan Posse. From earliest childhood, we’d known that the House would require us to marry for espionage purposes. When my brother surfaced among the Doskvolian nobility, a not-so-tiny part of me feared that he was searching for a wife.

“So – you’ve been popular with the young ladies of Brightstone. Anyone caught your eye yet?” I’d asked slyly, toying with the buttons on his crisp, white shirt as he lay next to me.

“Them?” Absolutely appalled, Sigmund had jerked away. “They’re so shallow! Signy, give me credit for some taste!”

As euphoric as if he’d given me another hit of Black Lotus, I’d pulled him back down beside me, and neither of us had spoken again for quite some time after that.

Now, giving Sleipnir one final pat, I drew my cloak tight and crept into my compartment. There, I hastened to change before my crewmates could notice and comment on my dress. While the skirt wasn’t as ruffly as Faith’s – as Sigmund had pointed out, he did have some modicum of good taste – it was just as short, and the neckline was considerably lower. Faith would have opinions. I didn’t want to hear them.

Back in my usual getup of Akorosian blouse and trousers, I sauntered into the common room and sank into a chair, the same chair I’d collapsed into last night with my brother’s blade at my throat. Seated at the table, Faith and Ash were animatedly debating whether the cult of That Which Hungers would be willing and able to pay for some score or other. Ash nodded absently at me while protesting, “He really, really hates the Church, but there isn’t a central repository or anything. They have been hunting and suppressing us since time immemorial, so unfortunately, none of us have the wealth….”

“They paid for us to assassinate – ” Faith shrugged, as if she couldn’t be expected to remember the names of all our targets – “that minor functionary. Surely they’d pay more for a high-ranking member.”

Their casual unconcern for where I’d spent the night amused me, especially given Sigmund’s anxiety over the whole thing.

Entwined in each other’s arms, we’d been on the verge of sleep when he jolted upright, dislodging my head from a comfortable position on his chest. “Did you leave a note for your crew?”

It had taken me a moment to process what he meant. “No.” I’d tugged at him futilely.

“They won’t come looking for you?”

“No.” They’d probably assume that I was spending the night with Bazso, although Sigmund didn’t need to know that.

“Mmmm. Okay.” Obviously dubious about the sort of people I was associating with, he’d grudgingly accepted my assessment and lain back down.

Back in the present, one of these dubious associates who didn’t even bother to track my whereabouts was saying to the other, “I can ask Mother, but – wait. A high-ranking member? Is this part of our plan?”

Serenely, Faith responded, “I am indeed referring to our plan.”

What plan? I wondered idly. What was Faith up to now?

Ash drummed his fingers on the table as he thought. “It could be tricky…but the Iruvians must hate the Church too, right?” His gaze settled on me. “Oh, Isha, did the Black Lotus wear off?”

With an effort, I pushed aside pleasant memories of soft mattresses and fluffy pillows. “What did you say, Ash?”

“Ah, apparently not.” Unlike Sigmund, Ash betrayed absolutely no concern over my drug abuse (or lack thereof). “Isha, wouldn’t you say that the Iruvians also hate the Church?”

Not really. With our standing army and leviathan hunter fleet, we’d retained a fair amount of autonomy when we joined the Imperium as a tributary-state, and under the terms of the treaty, Imperial institutions had to be confined to a ward outside U’Duashan walls. Where led U’Duasha, there followed the rest of Iruvia, and so the Church of Ecstasy had never found much purchase on the isle.

Ash was still waiting for my answer. “Not really,” I told him, wondering where this was going. Did he want one of the Houses to hire us? “They leave us alone and we leave them alone.”

“Well, the Iruvian assassins who came here must worship the old gods, right? Because I assure you that my group is not the only one that hates the Church.”

I gave up trying to infer what he was talking about and applied some of Bazso’s bluntness. “I have no idea where this is going.”

“Oh!” Ash seemed surprised. “Did we never tell you – apparently not. Well, there are many follow-up missions to the last score. We just need to find a buyer.”

Now I felt even more confused. “I thought we were done. The curate is dead – ” at the hands of his own congregation, no less, if the death bells were any indication – “and I’m fairly certain that that Tycherosi community no longer – ”

“Ah,” interjected Faith, “although we may have redeemed one diminutive group, we have also determined through dastardly deeds that the curate was involved in a deep, dark plot to aid a dire demonic ritual to elevate a Church dignitary – ”

“To do what?” I yelped.

“– And that in honor of this elevation, there will be a festival – a fête! – full of demon spawn and Hollowed souls and everything in between!”

“Wait,” I pleaded. “Slow down. I’m really confused now. What’s going on?”

Gesticulating dramatically, Faith declaimed, “Our insidious investigation has informed us that, remotely – without setting one foot in the Church! – and allowing no blame to fall on us, we can assassinate the guest of honor! With one decisive blow, we can do away with a prelate at no risk to ourselves!”

How had we gone from taking Ash’s mother’s coin to save a small group of Tycherosi from itself, to launching a commando strike against the highest echelons of a hallowed Imperial institution? If, as Faith had pointed out, our crew couldn’t even take on a vassal nation, how could we hope to attack the foundations of the Imperium itself?

Spreading my hands helplessly, I appealed to Ash, “Do you have any coffee?”

Faith flung her head back, giggling shrilly.

Ash just blinked at me, looking as bewildered as I felt. “Do I have any what? Oh, yes, coffee. Spiked or not?” Rummaging through the cabinet under the bar, he mixed some spices and medicinal liquids into a vague approximation of a stimulant beverage. “Here.” He handed me a concoction whose odor did more to wake me up than Mylera’s strongest espresso.

As if there had been no interruption whatsoever, Faith continued her tale with relish. “One of the things the Church needs for this dark, demonic ritual is the body of some poor Tycherosi lass, to whom they will do horrible, hideous, horrendous things.”

Trying a sip of Ash’s “coffee,” I nearly spat it back out. “Wait, you mean the girl you identified? Kallysta?”

“Indeed.” Faith inclined her head regally.

“But we’ve dealt with that,” I protested. “We’ve discredited the Church.”

Ash immediately corrected this dangerous misconception. “We’ve discredited one minor priest thereof.”

Faith agreed. “We’ve discredited but one aspect of the Church. Now we need to teach it that if they target poor Tycherosi lasses, then their demonic rituals will suffer for it. With one fell swoop of our blade, we can punish their transgressions and eliminate their bloodlust!” Without stopping to breathe, she whirled back to Ash. “Are you sure your Tycherosi friends won’t pay for this?”

He actually chuckled. “I would pay for this.”

“We might take you up that,” Faith assented sweetly.

Ash instantly regretted his largess. “But still – ”

Yes, still. “I’m still confused,” I broke in. “Back up a bit. What is this about demonic rituals?”

“Yes, Faith,” seconded Ash, grateful for the distraction from personal finances. “Why are we so certain that their rituals are demonic?”

“Because it’s the Church,” Faith replied with exaggerated patience, as if “the Church” should be synonymous with “diabolical corruption.” “They engage in demonic rituals at the Sanctorium every sixth day at the eighth hour sharp. It’s clearly posted on the message board. Why, Ash, have you never taken proper Communion?”

I monitored Ash’s expression closely to see if she were telling the truth. When his jaw dropped with belief, I demanded, “What does the Church have to do with demons? I thought it was about finding pleasure!”

With a sorrowful shake of her head, Faith lowered her voice suggestively. “Why, Isha, since you’re so inexperienced – ” recalling last night, I turned as red as my dress – “I’d be happy to show you what demons have to do with pleasure.” Then she practically fell over in a fit of giggles.

“Are there pleasure demons?” Ash inquired, curious despite himself.

“I can tell you from personal experience that demons have nothing to do with pleasure whatsoever!” I snapped back, still blushing ferociously.

Faith just winked at Ash, who also began chuckling.

Pressing my hands to my cheeks, I strove to haul the conversation back on track. “All right, I know why I hate demons, but what about you, Faith? And Ash – you’re part demon yourself!”

Faith shrugged and picked at a snag on her sleeve. “Oh, I just think this will be fun. Sorry, I meant to say: ‘Oh gods, what else is there to do around here?’”

Plenty. For starters, reconcile the Lampblacks and Red Sashes, develop a plan to deter the Immortal Emperor from invading Iruvia, wrangle a reservation for two at the Golden Plum before Sigmund returned to U’Duasha….

“Anything that embarrasses the Church is well worth pursuing,” argued Ash. “As for the fact that it’s dealing with demons – well, demons come in all shapes and sizes. Some are troublesome; some aren’t.”

“And some of them,” added Faith in a sultry voice, staring at me intently, “have tentacles with protrusions in strange places…. They’re called pleasure demons for a reason, you know.”

“Yes, yes, I’m sure,” said Ash drily while I groaned and dropped my head into my hands.

Resurfacing, I snapped, “All right, Faith, if you’re this bored, I have a different proposition.”

“Oh?” she inquired, looking mildly interested.

“The Imperium plans to invade Iruvia.” Faith gasped and raised a hand to her lips, as if she’d just walked into an elegant sitting room and found a servant on the settee. “What can we do to stop it?”

She dismissed it instantly as a remedy for ennui. “Oh, that’s easy. All we have to do is acquire dredging equipment and go to this bridge in Six Towers….”

Why had I thought she might be helpful? “What did you just say to Ash about believing our own lies?” I asked sharply.

“You should only do it when it’s entertaining.” She folded her hands demurely in her lap.

Addressing Ash instead of her, I explained, “Someone else is already searching for Helker’s notes.” Two or three more weeks, Sigmund had estimated. Although, if I found them first and hid them…. “We just need to come up with an overarching plan.”

Ash’s eyes lit up as if he sensed coin. “An overarching plan to invade the Imperium?”

Where had that come from? “No, no, to prevent the Imperium from invading Iruvia!”

“What makes you so certain they will? I mean, not that they wouldn’t, of course.”

I gave him a reproachful look. I was a Slide. It was my business to know such things.

Returning the look, he remarked casually, “I guess this has to do with your whole traitor thing?”

“What did you just say?”

I found myself on my feet, the room spinning and tilting about me, and I clutched at the table as my world narrowed down to one fatal phrase: “The traitor Signy Anixis.”

I hadn’t shot Ruka fast enough after all. Ash understood Hadrathi.

Satisfied by my reaction, he answered with studied modesty, “Yes, well, I’m also a Slide.”

I squeaked, “You understand Hadrathi? How?”

“It’s a very useful language to know.”

Getting my breath back at last and standing up straight, I accused, “And you never said anything?”

“It never came up until I heard it.”

Naturally, Faith couldn’t bear to be left out of other people’s tragedies. “Wait, wait, what’s this about Hadrathi? When did Hadrathi come up?”

“Our assassin friends – and by ‘friends’ I mean the people we murdered – were speaking it,” Ash reminded her.

“Oh!” Faith exclaimed, as if bashed on the head by sudden enlightenment. “You mean when those assassins dramatically disclosed that Isha is a traitor to her homeland of Iruvia and revealed her real name?”

I whirled, trapped between the two of them. “You also speak Hadrathi? Does everyone speak Hadrathi?”

“Just the two of us,” Ash assured me matter-of-factly, showing no sympathy whatsoever that my world was crumbling all around me.

“Why didn’t you mention this earlier?” I felt inexplicably betrayed that he’d known my true identity for weeks now and kept it to himself for his own nefarious purposes. Of course he’d kept it to himself for his own nefarious purposes. He was part demon.

Ash read all of that in my face at a glance, and his own expression cooled. “We didn’t bring it up because we thought you would talk to us in your own time,” he informed me.

With a guilty pang, I recalled how he’d kept Bazso’s patronage a secret until Bazso chose to divulge it himself, and I had no good response.

“Also,” drawled Faith, breaking the uncomfortable silence, “it’s far more fun to know secrets when the person whose secret it is doesn’t know that you know it. If they know, it’s not really a secret anymore, is it?”

Darting a remorseful glance at Ash, I forced myself to sit back down and adopt a relaxed pose. “All right, setting that aside, the descriptor of ‘traitor’ is vastly exaggerated.” (Although, to be honest, from the perspective of House leadership, all I’d done up to this point was steal their most prized possession, flee to an enemy isle, evade capture for two years, and then reappear suddenly to murder their assets.) “Regardless, the point is that I have two or three weeks to come up with a feasible plan to prevent the Imperium from invading Iruvia.”

Luckily, Ash had proven forgiving over and over, and this time was no exception. “Oh, but that’s easy,” he said, leaning back in his chair and extending his legs comfortably. “The Imperium wants to invade all sorts of other provinces. We just need to convince them that that’s the case.”

Cautiously, I divulged, “I suspect that convincing Skovlan is already underway. It can’t hurt if we get involved though.”

“It can very much hurt,” Ash corrected me. “For a start, we can find out why Iruvia sent those assassins after you.”

It took a moment for me to realize he meant the Hadrakin, not my brother. “Oh, no, they weren’t here for me. They were here for Helker’s battle plans.”

“And now we realize that stopping them…,” began Ash.

“May not have been the best move,” I finished ruefully. For so many reasons, not the least of which was that I’d killed one of them for worse than nothing. Recalling Sigmund’s words, I asked abruptly, “Was Irimina honest about her reasons for hiring us?”

Startled, he replied, “Yes. She was genuine.”

I breathed a sigh of relief, glad that I wouldn’t have to kill our patron. “Good. That’s what I thought.”

Ash glanced over at Faith, who was untying and retying the bows on her skirt as if she were about to drop dead from sheer, unadulterated boredom. “If that’s settled, why don’t we go over the plan with you, Isha? The ritual is in a week. What do we need for it, Faith?”

Picking up the end of one ribbon and letting it stream through her fingers, Faith admired the way the light played over the silk. “All we need are a cute girl, a sacrificial altar, a flowered headdress – ”

“I really don’t like where this is going,” I muttered at Ash, who ignored me.

“ – a mote of the Unbroken Sun, and a chocolate egg.”

Ash glared at her.

“A chocolate egg,” I repeated sarcastically.

“Well, yes,” she explained in a tone of utmost reason. “I might get hungry.”

Reverting to his usual strategy, Ash sidestepped the entire discussion of chocolate eggs. “What makes you pick the Unbroken Sun?”

“Ah, young neophyte, if you but read that tome you possess on the forgotten gods, you may learn that the Unbroken Sun has a particular hatred of demons. Hence, I imagine he might have some concerns about being used in a demonic ritual.” Dropping the wise philosopher act, Faith also reverted to type, widening her eyes and inquiring like an earnest young acolyte, “That’s the sort of thing that might mildly perturb a god, right? Like, it might slightly annoy them? They might even notice?”

As realization dawned on Ash’s face, I repeated the question no one had answered yet: “What does the Church want with demons?”

Faith pretended to ponder the issue. “That’s a good question. I hear they’re the path to power and wisdom and cunning and – what’s the last one? Justice.”

“So you’re suggesting that the Church is in league with the Demon Princes of U’Duasha,” I stated with heavy skepticism.

She feigned shocked hopefulness (or maybe hopeful shock). “You have Demon Princes in U’Duasha? Are they cute? Do they wear shining armor straight out of legend?”

Handsome, heroic knights in shining armor seemed to be an obsession of hers. “No. They’re encased in black crystal spires.”

Now it was Ash’s turn to be appalled. “You imprison your demons?” he asked incredulously. “Are you allied with them or subjugating them?”

Before I could answer, Faith leaped in. “My detailed analysis shows that they are subjugating Iruvia itself by being imprisoned.”

Ash processed that, then said to me, “I certainly hope you’re planning to use these Demon Princes against the Imperium.”

“Thus furthering the subjugation of Iruvia,” Faith followed up cheerfully.

I shook my head at both of them. “That’s the problem: We need to come up with a way to save Iruvia so we don’t have to resort to using them.”

“There’s an easy solution,” Faith piped up. For one split second, I felt hope – and then she kept talking. “You resort to using demons so that afterwards, you don’t have to resort to using demons anymore!”

I couldn’t even fault her for that one: It was the logic everyone used every single time.

“What’s wrong with using demons against the Imperium?” Ash sounded slightly offended.

“Because they’re evil, and they corrupt you, and they destroy everything.”

“Almost every single one of those statements is false.” Now Ash sounded thoroughly offended.

Innocently, Faith asked, “Has Ash corrupted you yet?”

I couldn’t suppress a quick glance at my cast.

“I really think Faith is the corrupter in this relationship,” Ash muttered before trying to make me see reason. “Look, Isha, Tycheros is part of the Imperium because we don’t have Demon Princes. True, we’re all descended from demons, but there isn’t a demonic presence there anymore. In fact, it’s one of the last bastions of the ancient gods. Honestly, if it weren’t for your Demon Princes, Iruvia would have been conquered outright. More than it has been already, that is.”

That was Sigmund’s contention too. “I wouldn’t exactly call Iruvia conquered…,” I hedged. Iruvia excelled at paying lip service to the Imperium while skirting treaty limits. Just look at the way we circumvented the law requiring every Imperial city to have a lightning barrier – by building one around U’Duasha’s Imperial Ward.

“If that is true, then it’s because battling four Demon Princes is a lot of work.”

Stubbornly, I insisted, “No, it’s because battling our standing army and our standing fleet is a lot of work.”

Ash radiated disbelief. “And you think they can compare to the forces the Imperium can bring to bear against you?”

“Yes…?” Thus far, they had given the Immortal Emperor pause. But even as I spoke, I recalled that up until two years ago, the Unity War had provided a very convenient drain on Imperial resources – and that we could expect no further aid from that quarter. (“What about Skovlan?” Sigmund had demanded. “Skovlan is broken.”)

“Isha,” Ash warned, “when the gears of war turn, they do not stop easily. Having diverted considerable effort to ramping up the war economy, do you think the Imperium will just settle back into a peaceful state – or do you think it will redirect its extremely large military forces against a new target?” I opened my mouth but found nothing intelligent to say. “If you could have extended the Unity War by another few years, you’d have been safe. But you’re not.”

In a soft voice, I asked, “What’s the point of winning a war at the cost of destroying everything we love?”

“Then surrender and be conquered,” he said simply.

At that, I threw up my hands in exasperation. “Why does everyone think there are only two options?”

“I have a third option,” Faith interjected. “Unleash the Demon Princes on both Iruvia and Akoros. Then no one will have time for an Iruvian-Akorosian war. I’m sure I can come up with a fourth option too.”

Ash continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “When was the last time you talked to these Demon Princes? Do you have a diplomatic relationship with them?”

Faith suggested, “They probably have tea every afternoon.”

“At the eighth hour,” Ash said sarcastically.

Faith beamed at him. “Of course!” She mimed picking up a cup. “Just picture it: hulking demonic figures with black wings and horns the size of lamp posts, sipping tea from dainty little teacups with their pinkies sticking out, while discussing politics and – ” She paused, searching for an alliteration, then finished triumphantly, “And pastries!”

In my head, Grandfather agreed, sounding incredibly entertained, Yes, that is exactly what we do. Trust my irritating sword to get along with my irritating crewmate!

As I mentally shoved it away, Ash said, “Well, at any rate, it would be good to incite these Demon Princes against the Imperium, but in the meantime, we should assassinate this Church prelate. Since Ascension Day doesn’t happen every day, we’re on a timetable.”

Taking a leaf out of his book, I bargained, “I’ll help if the two of you help me come up with a way to save Iruvia that doesn’t involving allying with, drawing upon, or in any way making any kind of pact with the Demon Princes.”

Ash nodded his acceptance of the terms. “I wouldn’t take that last one off the table, but neither of us is exactly dictating Iruvian politics. For now, we need to obtain motes of the Unbroken Sun. I don’t think Ilacille will be very happy with me for spying on its cult, so maybe Isha can – ”

Faith interrupted. “I think the better question is how we’re going to get paid for it. Now, Ash has already offered his personal coin, but somehow I doubt he will be very generous.” He didn’t even look abashed by that assessment of his parsimony. “But you know who else hates the Church?” She made us guess for a while before she bounced up and down and announced, “The Reconciled! Let’s go talk to Nyryx!”