“...and that’s the idea,” Aven concluded the explanation to Katrin. The maledictus woman looked at him blankly. “Well?”

  Silence, only the noises from the other soldiers in the barracks. Aven had found Katrin sitting on the bottom bunk, staring at the wall while both Vili and smaller frost spirits crawled on the wall in an esoteric dance.

  “It is reckless,” Katrin replied.

  “Right,” Aven said. “I know. Wasn’t asking for your opinion. I’m asking if you’ll volunteer to join us.”

  “Yes.”

  An immediate reply. And that was it. She said nothing more. No complaints or questions. So Aven had to follow up.

  “Are you really comfortable with this?” Aven asked. “We could be fighting Gretchen.”

  A faint twitch in Katrin’s face. Just the slightest crack in the icy mask. Vili showed far more of a reaction, the shadow spirit letting out an angry noise, curling around her neck. The smaller spirits fled, turning to little more than mist when distanced themselves from Katrin. “If we must.”

  Aven searched her face. Questions rose that Aven had never thought to ask. Ones that now seemed critically important.

  “Why the hell are you fighting along with us?”

  Katrin’s brow furrowed. “I’m sorry?”

  “I never asked,” Aven sat down on the bunk across from Katrin. A messy one. Whoever it belonged to was dead, or a traitor. Or maybe there was just no one to enforce barracks discipline with Logash in the infirmary and Ouron absent.

  “You didn’t,” Katrin confirmed.

  Aven pressed on, “I just assumed you were fighting for survival like the rest of us. But you made the choice to stay with us instead of fighting for the Vulgares. It seems relevant now.”

  Katrin tilted her head, and Vili whispered something in her ear. Katrin’s eyes closed. For a moment, there was silence. When she opened her mouth to speak again, a different voice came through. Echoing. Not Katrin’s own.

  “They are coming, and you are the only one who understands.” Katrin’s eyes filled with pools of black, even covering the sclera. Vili wasn’t just perched on her shoulder anymore. The shadow spirit was...merged with her. Melting into the skin so only the head emerged from Katrin’s neck. The rest of the shadow spirit’s body ran through Katrin’s skin like black tendrils. Not so different in appearance from Aven’s own void-filled veins. “You have seen their hatred. Their hunger. They will devour these lands as they have devoured our home.”

  Hairs raised on Aven’s neck, but before he could reply, Vili shuddered, body disconnecting from the maledictus. Katrin blinked. Eyes brown again. Human.

  “Seven hells,” Aven gaped. “What was that?”

  Katrin shook her head, rubbing her temples, “I...don’t know. Vili’s words are rarely even as clear as that. Speaking through me is...tiring for her. She was...talking about your experience in the voidpit, I assume.”

  Hells. Aven stared at the shadow spirit. It was...sleeping, slumped against Katrin’s shoulder, body rhythmically inflating and deflating.

  “She mentioned your home,” Aven said.

  Katrin stiffened, “...yes. My home was...I was born under black skies. I never saw the sun until I escaped to the lands of the Empire.” She glanced at Vili, “I...it sounds as though Vili believes those responsible for my homeland’s curse are the same as voidspawn.”

  “You come from the Darkwood?” Aven asked. Father’s lands bordered the vast forest land only partially claimed by the empire. Some parts within reportedly held the phenomena that Katrin described. Black skies. Twisted creatures very much like the voidspawn. “That was your home?”

  “I...dwelt in the Darkwood before coming to the Empire,” Katrin’s face fell into its guarded, expressionless stoicism again. Her eyes flicked to the sleeping Vili as if seeking help before her gaze met Aven’s again.

  That wasn’t quite what Aven had asked. Not the time for more questions, judging by her expression.

  “So, you fight with me to battle the voidspawn?”

  A nod.

  “And is that your choice, or is it Vili’s?”

  Katrin touched the sleeping spirit softly, almost a pet, “...we are one. Our desires are the same.”

  Right. Aven rubbed his face. Wasn’t the answer he’d expected or wanted. Not at all. But at least it was an answer. And Katrin agreed to come. One more vis on the strike team.

  “Alright. Get some rest,” Aven said, heading out of her cell. “I’ll need your power in full when we march on the Vulgares camp tomorrow night. Be ready to fight.”

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  “I am ready,” Katrin said.

  That, at least, Aven could believe.

  * * *

  Wally’s eyes were wide as Aven explained the mission.

  “You...you want me to be part of that?” the canin boy looked stunned.

  “I’m extending the invitation,” Aven said. “Your choice to join the party. But you’ve got better senses than anyone else left in Hellfrost. You’d be useful. Your choice.”

  Again, Wally looked terrified at the prospect of choice.

  “What if...what if I said no?”

  Aven shrugged, “Then we go on without you.”

  Wally looked to the floor, thinking. Aven let him.

  “You...were you serious, when you said it was my choice to fight, or run, or even...even join the Vulgares?” Wally said.

  Aven chuckled, “It’s not about being serious; it’s about being realistic. You have the choice, whether I offer it to you or not. Of course, if you joined the Vulgares, that would present a problem. We’d be on opposite sides, after all.”

  “Are you...going to kill Iskir?” Wally asked.

  “Possibly,” Aven said. “If it comes to that. If he won’t surrender.”

  “That doesn’t...bother you?”

  Iskir had fought voidspawn alongside them. Fought the guards during the rebellion against Yvris. But he’d chosen to join with the Vulgares. There was a choice. And he’d made his.

  “Of course it bothers me,” Aven said. “But if it comes to that...Iskir won’t be the best man I’ve killed, nor the least deserving of death.”

  Wally stared at the ground, “The empire killed his tribe. The empire...could have killed my tribe. But we were too weak to fight. We just surrendered. After we surrendered, they took all the men of fighting age. Some of them joined the legions, I think. I...got sent here.”

  Wally shook. Aven waited.

  “I hate the empire,” Wally whispered. “I hate what they did. I hate that my people were too weak to fight them. They should have been like Iskir’s tribe, or Ko’jan’s. Should have fought them to the end instead of giving up.”

  “Then why are you here?” Aven asked.

  “Because...because this is my tribe now,” Wally said. “The Hellfrost Legion. Fighting the voidspawn. That’s what I swore to do. The Vulgares...what they’re trying to do isn’t just fighting the empire. They’re threatening the people of Hellfrost. They...they weren’t the ones who took over my tribe.”

  “Will you help us stop them?”

  “I will.”

  “Then I’ll count on you,” Aven clapped Wally on the back. Wally flinched, then grinned sheepishly.

  * * *

  “If you still need rest-”

  Janaya ripped the bandages away from her skin, eyes blazing as she jumped up from the infirmary bed, “Rest? I can’t rest until the evil of the Vulgares is repaid in blood and fire.”

  Right. Aven nodded. At this point, Aven doubted there were chains in Hellfrost strong enough to hold Janaya back.

  Rani cackled from her bed, “Go get them, girl! Bring back a few of their heads for me, will you? For a keepsake. Especially any pretty ones; it gets lonely in here.”

  Aven turned to the healer on duty, “And you’ve cleared her for fighting?”

  The healer barked a tired laugh, “Please, take her off our hands. One more night in the infirmary and I fear she’ll burn the whole place down.”

  Great. Though how well Janaya would fit into an ostensible stealth mission remained to be seen. Better to have her rage directed at the enemy than bottled up, though.

  Janaya wasn’t the only one at the infirmary he’d come to collect, though. The second request was much larger. Perhaps even unfair. Still, Aven was going to ask.

  “Wait, where are you-” the healer looked momentarily horrified as Aven strode towards the room where Logash rested. “Wait!”

  Resolved, Aven didn’t wait. The person making this decision wouldn’t be the healer. That decision was for the zhagra himself. He flung open the door.

  “Logash,” Aven looked at the ogre, who jerked up in surprise where he lay. “I have an incredibly unfair request to make of you.”

  Logash just stared at Aven. Looked like the ogre had no idea what to say.

  “I know you said you retired, but I need strength,” Aven said.

  Logash blinked in surprise. Still speechless. Tense. Not the Logash that Aven was used to. His eyes flicked to the door, then down to his lap.

  That was the first clue something was wrong.

  The second was the strange shape of Logash’s body underneath the sheets.

  Aven gawped, “Logash, why do you have three knees?”

  A sigh. Not coming from Logash. The blankets shifted, and the small, round figure of Tanya emerged from underneath.

  “Alright, alright,” the minari housekeeper adjusted her apron and rose. Her cheeks were bright red, but she looked more resigned than angry or embarrassed. She took a moment to smooth her hair before planting her hands on her hips and turning on Aven, “Don’t make a fuss about all this, now, you hear?”

  Aven gaped, barely comprehending the evidence of his own eyes. He stared. First at the three-foot minari matron. Then back to the seven-foot ogre. Sure, Tanya had been fussing over Logash quite a bit. And taking care of his injuries personally. And preparing runes for him. But...

  The healer appeared in the doorway, looking far more flustered than Tanya did, “I-I’m sorry! I told him to wait...”

  “It’s quite alright, dear,” Tanya brushed past, giving Aven a pat on the knee as she did. “Can’t keep a secret in Hellfrost forever. I’ll leave you boys to discuss business.”

  She left and shut the door behind her.

  Aven turned back to stare at Logash, “How...how long have the two of you...” he paused. “How do you two...” He decided that he didn’t actually want to know the answers to most of the questions that arose.

  Logash chuckled nervously. Probably blushing underneath that thick white fur. “Well...she is a charming widowed woman, and I am an old widower. Age does not wither the heart.”

  It withered quite a bit else, but Aven was determinedly trying not to think about any of that at the moment. Aven closed his eyes, exhaled, and willed the image from his mind.

  Plenty to shove into a separate part of his mind. A part Aven would happily let die when necessary.

  “You were going to ask me something,” Logash pointedly moved the conversation in a different direction, a cue that Aven happily took.

  “Right,” Aven said. “I’m gathering a group to rescue Esharah and kill Sergrud. Are you in?”

  “Ah,” Logash relaxed, and his gaze turned away from Aven to a place beyond. “As I told you...I believe my time is done.”

  “And I think that’s horseshit,” Aven said.

  That wrenched Logash’s gaze firmly back to Aven. Away from whatever ghosts of the past haunted him. Those couldn’t matter now. There were monsters in the present to fight.

  “If you don’t want to fight, that’s one thing,” Aven said. “But the way you talk, it’s as if you think you can’t fight anymore. And that is the furthest thing from the truth. I need your help, Logash. This mission...this mission could be suicide. You’ve seen things. You have a cool head, experience, and you’re strong. Stronger than any of us. You think you’ve fallen from the heights of the mountain you once climbed, but the rest of us are still scrabbling to catch up.” Aven stepped back, “It’s your choice, ultimately. But I’m asking for you to put off your rest a little longer. Just for a little longer, you’ve got to stand.”

  Aven waited. Waited for an answer.

  Logash’s lips drew to a tight line, and then he nodded, “Very well. If you need me, I will fight.”

  Aven grinned, “Then get your ass up, soldier. We’ve got a mountain to climb.”

  * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

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