Page 104 of The Infernal Battalion

“The Beast has found me useful,” Janus said. “It cannot split its attention, so it has delegated some relatively unimportant tasks to me. I am prosecuting the campaign against the Vordanai army.”

“You’re killing them. Your old companions.”

“It is my area of expertise,” Janus said. “If I am not useful, I will be torn to pieces, as you well know.”

“You’ll be torn apart in the end anyway,” Jane said tauntingly. “We all will. Our only peace will be inside the Beast.”

“Perhaps. I choose to delay my fate a little longer, if I can.”

“Why?”

“Why does anyone live another day when they’ll have to die eventually?” If he’d had a body, Janus would have shrugged. “What are you doing, Jane Verity? I thought you had achieved your peace already.”

“Winter will be here soon. The Beast will take her.”

It will try. “I understand that’s what’s consuming its attention.” He paused. “Is that it? You don’t want to watch?”

“It will be... hard for her. At first.”

Janus laughed. “As I thought. You truly are a coward, aren’t you?”

“What?”

“You told me this was for her sake. That you and Winter could be together here, and happy. But you know, if you’re honest with yourself, that it isn’t true. Winter would never submit to the Beast, as you and I have. She will fight until there is nothing left of her but scraps.”

“I will find the scraps,” Jane said. “I will find her. I have until the end of time.”

“Of course. Better that than risk her rejecting you again.”

“She only rejected me because of you,” Jane said. “Because you twisted her mind.”

“Deceive yourself if you like,” Janus said. “I know Winter better than that. Better, it seems, than you do, if you think she’ll ever be happy here, as part of a monster.”

“I will have her,” Jane said. “Forever. And that’s the end of it.”

“Whether she wants you or not?”

“She wants me!” The last word rose to a screech, and Jane vanished, her whirlwind self zipping across the non-​space. Janus watched her for a moment, then returned to his task.

In the real world, Janus bet Vhalnich picked up a pen and, without looking, quickly scrawled a few words on a sheet of paper, as though he were afraid someone was watching.

17

Raesinia

Raesinia had been present for quite a few of Cora’s excited rambles, but this one was definitely worse than usual. This one had diagrams. They had started on one sheet of foolscap and spread off it in all directions, necessitating a raid on the writing desk in the other room for more paper and ink. Raesinia wasn’t actually sure what the network of boxes and lines depicted—​it could have been corporate structure, the interdependence of contracts, or the web of a drunken spider. She did her best to nod at appropriate junctures and chime in with enough questions to get the gist.

“—​and once you’ve come to terms, you dictate them to one of the market scribes, and that’s the end of it. Millions of eagles can move around that way in a few minutes. The Exchange in Vordan looks like a medieval fair by comparison.” She shook her head. “Everything’s public, too, by law. You can look at the record books, which can be very valuable if you know how to read them. For example, I’m certain Goodman and his cronies are leaking to the market; you can see the prices move every time we have a meeting. Which is probably illegal, but I’m sure we’d never pin it on him—”

“Is it working?” Raesinia interrupted. She’d gotten used to doing that, with Cora. The girl didn’t mind, and it was the only way to get a word in edgewise.

“Is what working?”

“Your plan, to make more money.” Raesinia had understood it only vaguely, something about speculating in derivatives related to Vordanai debt.

“Oh. Yes, so far. I’m still a long way from where I need to be to play on Goodman’s scale, though. Even down in the trading pits, you can practically feel everyone pause when he walks by.” Cora cocked her head. “Have you figured out what we’re going to do yet? If we had a more specific objective I might be able to tilt things in that direction.”

Raesinia shook her head. She didn’t have a plan, precisely. More a sense that money was the water through which Goodman and people like him swam, the substance of their power; being able to manipulate it had to give her some kind of advantage. Cora can think rings around Goodman. We just need to use it somehow.