6 Chapter Six

While her grandmother's armor was irretrievably lost, incinerated in Havala's ashes, it was a relief to wear fasadin armor again. Ancient Ephremian armors were once tailor-made to their original owners, but their enchantments had evolved over the centuries, as if they had become more accommodating to their mission, or learned to embrace the purpose and commission of each wearer.

As their design was to protect, and comfort is no small part of protection, altering their shape made them more fit to serve and protect. So moments after donning this goliath-sized armor, it had conformed to her diminutive stature.

The King and Queen had surprised Kiera with this suit of plate, for its enameled breastplate bore an etched tiger sigil, the insignia not of a Lieutenant, but of a Captain. Her heart had hammered at receiving what she believed to be an unmerited promotion, for while she had preserved the lives of the princess and her friend, a better protector wouldn't have crashed in the wastes of the Sargan Vos or dragged them through the dying embers of Havala. Had she risen to Jezera's mettle, she might have delivered them days before, not only innocent of Ashflowers and Armageddons, but safe in the storied halls of Ephremia, who would have had less reason to march to war.

A better protector, in fact, would have taken her highness and her grace anywhere but here, on the front of a catastrophic war, where their victory was being rewritten to defeat to suit the whim of a dark god. An antelope had bounded in from the front, reporting that the Stranger had not only returned, and inspired the Queen's forces, but the just rallied Ephremian armies, their Daikonese reinforcements, and the pitiful Terianan resistance, had routed again, falling back against a mad Alsantian onslaught of pikemen, archers, black-hearted wolves and bears, and swarms of talking rats, vultures, and crows. Having told his tale, the poor antelope then collapsed, his strings cut by a cruel arrow, its blade near as wide as the toe of a boot. Had he lain on the hillside where he fell, the cruel arrow would not have worked in so deep, and he might have lived long as a beast of burden under Suvani's regime. If he had borne this message at the cost of his own life, he had also immortalized his name and honor.

As Kiera passed along the message through the army, she gave the antelope, Corsus, his due. Having fulfilled what would likely be the last command ever entrusted to her, she teetered on the brink of betrayal, her heart aching for those who had uplifted her from squalor and ignominy to a place of pride and high position, then stole quickly to the makeshift brig, quickly cobbled together from broken supply wagons, solely to contain the proud raccoon and the arrogant ogress.

She had not expected to be anticipated in her mission. Not that her comrades in arms were likely to have deduced her treachery, given there were only two lads stationed by the spiked gate, but another breakout had preceded hers, for the raccoon's slatted cage was stoved in, shattered and splintered. While the grass and earth was torn by boots, hooves, and paws in the turmoil following the discovery of his escape, the mud had dried, indicating it was either last night or this morning's sensation.

That the generals had not bolstered the guard signified not bad judgment on their part, but the great need for every able-bodied soldier at the front. These two were only partly able, as one's right arm was in a splint, so that only his left was at the ready on the hilt of the sword, he now raised in a salute. While the other's salute was rightly and smartly-done, he could not rise, having his lower leg in a blocky cast which propped his crossbow.

"Lieutenant!"

"At ease. You will stand ready soon enough."

"We've heard the message, ma'am."

"I haven't come about that. I'm here for the ogress."

"Begging your pardon, ma'am. We received no orders."

"Look closer, Gallin." Kiera said coolly. "I'm a Captain now. Not that these orders were of my devising. She could rot here for all I care." That part was true. If Kiera did not have a strong need, she would leave Jezera to her fate. No matter how witty or charming the ogress sometimes could be, that savage could not be trusted. Like any monster, she would do what came naturally or advanced her self-interest. And she would certainly enjoy Kiera's scheme, which not only put one over on every monarch on the continent, but preserved the face of the ogress's vaunted work ethic and professional honor.

Gallin's brow creased in a doubtful scowl. "It's irregular."

"So is stationing the wounded at the brig. In case you haven't noticed, there's a war going on, so we do what we must. Now, are you going to stab and shoot me, or let me in?"

When Gallin leaned his crossbow against the post, then used his stool as a three-pronged cane to hobble, inch by inch, to the left of the gate, the other soldier sidestepped so nonchalantly that Kiera could not help wondering if his bandage concealed a whole and healthy arm, infected only by cowardice.

In crossing from one end of camp to the other, Kiera had lost track of time, for the light had dimmed, and the sky was obscured by the haze rising from locked armies, brewing rain clouds, and swarms of talking birds waging a vicious war above. Like angels locked in battle for mortal souls,

winged warriors on both sides would try to rake the foot and paw soldiers, only to be flurried away by the swooping avians of the other side. Only when the bloody sky began to rain broken birds did a few cagy Eldryn manage to slip down and strafe the Alsantian footmen, but these wounds were answered when the dead birds that had fallen in the Ephremian ranks blinked stiff eyes, flapped askew wings, and flew awry, pecking at helms and visors.

As Kiera stepped from the swarm and storm-shadowed day into cave black of the brig, her heart fluttered, for ogres are not nocturnal, and it was cruel treatment to grudge Jezera a candle. Whatever light there was, Kiera had brought, for her Ephremian armor shimmered and swirled with a pale light of its own.

"You?" Her contempt was not veiled, but shredded, tearing the word into a tattered heap of resentment and anger.

"Yes, me." Kiera glared back. "The only one here who cares whether you live or die. So much for your work ethic."

"Don't think I'll ask what you mean by that."

Kiera bulled forward. If their minds would meet, their horns must lock. "Only that we have spies in our camp."

"You're guessing."

"Their maneuvers are matched to our secret dispatches."

"So?" The bellow deflated to a low, sulking roar.

"They know you're here. And while you don't wear your rank on your sleeve, aren't you an Alsantian officer?"

"So?"

"So we've received no offers. No attempts at a prisoner exchange, not even a mention of you in any communique."

Jezera's thorny cackle seemed to scratch and prick her. "Why would Suvani bargain now? You're being routed."

Kiera's ears burned. While the Ephremian army was not under her command, she was ashamed for her noble people, once again unable to beat back Alsantia. It was almost a relief to watch the Ephremian armies shrink from the shrouded Stranger, whose blistering shadowfire flashed, scouring flesh to bone, slagging steel, and scarring the day with patches of dark shadow impervious to sunlight. If Ephremia was doomed to defeat no matter what they did, if even the sunlight folded under the burden of his crushing, burning shadowfire, then Kiera could not be judged for counting cards and cheating fate. Of what value were valiant efforts and noble deaths when good and evil were a rigged game? No matter how civilized or well-meaning their opposition, the Stranger would see to it that Alsantia would prevail.

While she would never be satisfied with any compromise, and there was no magical formula of rationalization that would make her as happy in treason as she was in good faith, she could not explain to herself why it should feel so liberating to set foot on this crooked path.

"Maybe you're right. Maybe she's ordered them to march around this brig, or maybe the kariks will plow straight through it."

"That explains it," grumbled Jezera.

"That explains nothing," Kiera snapped, a little too sharply.

"You're here to gloat."

Kiera leaned toward the bars and whispered. She took a great risk coming so near the angry ogress, who might put out her eyes with two giant fingers, each the width of broomsticks. "Help me, and I'll set you free."

"I'm vicious, not heartless, my miniature friend," grumbled Jezera. "Not only do I understand pity, but I so resent it in my noble enemy that I'd rather wait on the axe."

"You think this is charity?" Kiera's scathing voice was so highly uncharitable that Jezera flinched, then growled, prompting Kiera to step away from the cage. "Then don't do it to please me. But what of her highness?"

"You mean your other little friends?" Jezera eyed her sidelong through the bars, then settled her vast bulk into her creaking and rattling cot. "You're not so naive, Ephremian."

"We know each other well enough for you to call me by name."

"Okay...Pierre, right?"

"You know it's Kiera."

The ogress chuckled at her scowl. "Why shouldn't I impale you on the first convenient tree branch, then take your girls to Suvani?"

"Now that I'm armored, I'm a match for you again."

"In your dreams."

"Think what you wish." Kiera's shoulders sagged. If the ogress was too spiteful to be implored, Kiera was not too proud to beg, not for Berangere's sake. "Please, Jezera. You are the only one who might help me."

"I almost think they are in real danger. I almost care." Jezera shrugged and rolled to the wall, jangling the cot's slats and springs. "I broke her shoulder, remember."

As Kiera's brow creased and her scowl darkened, her plans crumpled in the red-hot oblivion brought on by anger. "I should have slain you on Havala."

"On the beach?" Jezera guffawed. "With what? A clamshell?"

Taking a deep breath, Kiera brushed past this insult, for regardless how she felt about the ogress, her highness must be saved. "But since then, we have come to know each other better."

Jezera broke into a wheezy laugh. "This is your pitch? When did we become such great friends? Was it when you bolted with the girls, or when we fought toe to toe on the bullet train?"

"As we have been enemies, the delusions of loyalty will not blind us in our endeavor." Having long rehearsed this speech as she walked around the camp, delivering the antelope's message of impending doom, she spoke her piece now with mechanical precision. "And if each of us expects double-dealing, then both of us stand on equal footing."

"Equal?" snickered Jezera. "As if. Look at us, Ephremian. An odder couple never was seen."

"Even if you are three feet taller, we can still stand back to back."

Jezera shrugged. "Inequity is a part of life, dust mite. Ephremia is a monarchy, armies are not democracies, and there are no equals, not even among ogres, giants, or gods." When Jezera's stomach groaned, then fanned those gurgling fires to a roar, Kiera took a step back. "The only leveller is the stomach. It grinds everything and everyone down, until both queens and peasants are food for worms. On the day worms chew through our coffins, we will find our equality. As for your request, I might have proved partial to you, and receptive to your plan, had you remembered a pig, a hen, or even one of those floppy tidbits you call a sandwich."

Kiera's smile was genuine. Even if the ogress only pretended to cooperate, should she keep up the pretense all the way through the battlegrounds, it would be a very useful performance indeed. To a point, pretending to cooperate is much like cooperation, just as pretending to do a thing is much like doing that thing. There are perils, of course, when pretense touches reality. One stage-fighting with a real sword must slash wide and stab shallow to avoid opening real wounds, and whether Jezera's cooperation or Kiera's smile flexed in front of good intentions or insincerity, any hand they might shake had killed.

Five years ago, Kiera had survived her first battle by telling herself she was only putting training into practice, and thus turning pretending into performance. Sincerity and competence arrived later. While many are better actors than doers, Kiera had learned she was wholeheartedly one of the latter, soon forgetting she had ever acted beyond her rising skill and ability. Having submerged her savage appetites on both Earth and Havala, Jezera was no doubt a better actress, and even now planned to pretend her way to freedom.

As Kiera remembered how much counted on Jezera, her real smile faded, and a fake smile surfaced. It was a service smile--both battle-worn and polished, like her sword. She had practiced that smile in the mirror while rehearsing how to present her armor and dress uniform, then honed the smile until it cut through red tape and the arrogance of captains and generals.

The ogress, however, had proved flinty hard, for whenever Kiera flicked out her service smile,

Jezera flashed her own fanged grin, as if parrying Kiera's facile goodwill with an equally insincere, savage joviality. "I can't eat your dopey smile, you know."

Flinging the left side of her cloak behind her, Kiera rustled in her heavy shoulderbag for

several paper parcels, one of which was pinked all the way through.

"Don't think I wanted you to beg, Jezera. Since your nose is better than mine, I believed this delicious aroma would be so obvious that I needn't mention it. You had only to ask."

"Ask, beg, tomayto-tomahto." As Jezera shredded each tied bundle, she devoured the contents so fast that she likely smacked her lips on string and paper flecks along with salt pork, cold chicken, and cured fish. "Speaking of tomatoes, I don't suppose you thought to..."

"We're down to rations."

Jezera glowered. "No vegetables? Not even an egg? You mean to kill me."

"Eggs aren't vegetables."

"Says you," said Jezera. "They're chicken fruit, obviously." While Jezera noshed on dried and cold meats, she griped of the flakiness, the dryness, and the lack of any sides to round out the monotonous misery of this leathery meal, occasionally mocking Kiera's ignorance of ogrish science, which affirmed, authoritatively and definitively, that eggs were vegetables. Kiera couldn't bring herself to champion Ephremian botany--which said that even if 'chicken fruits' were vegetables, fruits most definitely were not vegetables--for the simple reason that she needed this mountainous body and arbitrary brain for her plan.

"You don't have a plan, do you?" Jezera picked dry strings of meat from her teeth with one needly nail.

"Of course I do." As Kiera's smile froze solid, her face felt cold as milk. It was a terrible plan, relying on misdirection and brute force, and less on the force than the brute. Taking the keys from her cloak pocket, she unlocked Jezera's cell, stood back, then took a deep breath. "I'll tell you on the way."

"You have a lot of nerve," Jezera began, prompting Kiera to double down on her deep breath, packing in air until her lungs felt leaden and her hands and nose began to tingle. "That's what I like about you." Jezera strode out and clapped Kiera on the back. "It's the only thing I like about you, mind you, but who knows, this might be the start of a beautiful friendship. Lead the way, you nervy little spitfire."

"About face!" Having shouted this order through the gate, Kiera pushed it open and led the ogress outside, where the hobbled soldier was halfway through such a tottering spin on his perch that his comrade, turning to steady him, spied them slipping around the brig wall, and bellowed so loudly that he fanned his arms, sending his limping comrade staggering toward the door post, which he might have rammed with devastating force had he not clutched it so desperately, his fingers whitening and his nails pinking.

When Kiera darted ahead, Jezera lurched into a heavy trot beside her, a snide grin on her face. "Lovely plan."

"This isn't the plan."

"That almost has the ring of truth."

"What are you insinuating?"

Jezera jogged so effortlessly that it was nothing to preface her next jibe with a mocking yawn. "As if I had need for insinuations, when your folly is so obvious."

Kiera huffed. "No need for insinuations, but plenty for beating around the bush."

"But beating around the bush is so productive," snickered Jezera. "You usually clobber some rabbit or boar for your mid-day snack, or if you're lucky, a furrier or truffle-hunter."

"Fine." Kiera's sigh roared, borne as it was on the brunt of her jogging wind. "You're right."

"I'm right?" The ogress's ghastly grin seemed plastered on, but her eyes were gloomy, as if she hoped for better news. "While human words like right and wrong are too vague for ogres ever to be moral, I'll admit to some satisfaction in hearing that from you. But be more specific. You see the big picture, but I live in the details."

Kiera muttered.

"Say that louder, for the benefit of everybody."

"There's no one here but us!"

"While my ogre ears heard that, you didn't."

"You don't think I know what I'm saying?"

"No, you're too sincere for that. So sincere, you might be tempted to dishonesty, to deny what you said later and spare yourself the consequences of hypocrisy."

Kiera's ears burned. "You can call me a fool or a hypocrite, but not both."

"But I think you're vain enough to be both. Unless you'd like to say that again, and loud enough so that there can be no mistake later..."

"There is no plan!" As a skilled warrior could run in Ephremian battle armor as easily as in a loincloth, Kiera's panting was from venting her frustration as the ogress's torments landed again and again.

"I see." By comparison, Jezera's running wind was even and smooth, and she talked with as much coolness as if they were waiting on hot treats in a cafe. Her pumping fists were so steady and calm that they might have held brimful coffee cups and not spilled a drop. "So I'm not here as your collaborator."

"What? Of course you are."

"Of course we aren't. Having admitted you're not equal to this escape, you want me to take over."

"You're here to follow my lead!" Kiera said in a hushed shout. Despite taking a back route behind supply wagons and pitched tents, the pursuing hue and cry increased in clamor, heightened by hoofbeats.

"What lead? At best, I'm here in a professional capacity, to manage this harebrained rescue."

"I'm leading you there now," said Kiera. While her lips dented downward in a sullen frown, each gasp exploded the sulk that sought to creep onto her face and brood there. "If it wasn't for me, you wouldn't know where they were."

"Nor would I want to."

"What do you want? Money?"

Jezera tsked. "You well know my position on changing sides. Don't assume I'm less ethical simply because I sell my loyalty. Don't think Suvani's riches hold me to her, when you might have bought me first."

"As if I could ever have matched her offer."

"You think I'm an utter mercenary. As if I would ever demean myself by auctioning my talents to the highest bidder." Jezera growled. "And, if I found myself released from contract by the unfaithfulness of my employer, who left me to rot despite my tacit understanding that anyone paying so much would surely not leave their wise investment idle, don't think it's about the money."

"I see," said Kiera tactfully. "You have your honor to think of."

"To think of?" Jezera hissed. "Not only did I already think it, I just said as much!" The ogress fumed and growled some more, and when she continued, seething underscored her words, as if a gas fire had lighted. "So while I'm receptive to a new job, it's not about the money."

"It's not?" Kiera was surprised. "While I'm not as rich as Suvani, I did manage to scrape together..." At Jezera's glare, Kiera's hand froze halfway to the pouch at her belt.

"One gold kalpek!"

"Excuse me?"

"I'll do it for one gold piece. While my work ethic won't let me work for free, my true recompense here is the principle of the thing. I'll help you for one kalpek. After all, I'm not a fool to let my services go too cheaply."

The largest Ephremian coin, the kalpek was the size of a tea saucer, and as it was made of solid gold, would be worth nearly as much as the small fortune Kiera had hastily amassed from her savings. Some market days, it was worth a little more, but gold was down, so she might be able to save herself a pittance, which was good, as they would need it for the journey. Kiera almost laughed at Jezera, whose idea of principle was not that distant from the enlightened self-interest of the humans she despised, and, moreover, left room for ogrish greed.

"I could manage that. But it will have to be a little later."

"I don't care when you pay me," Jezera said haughtily. "So long as you're footing my expenses."

Kiera's face fell. Ogrish appetite and thirst were infamously enormous. The myths that said ogres ate and drank more than a team of horses were conservative estimates, for ogres did not eat grain or use water for anything other than the occasional bath enjoyed with great reluctance. No, they ate prime cuts, shrimp, eggs by a half-dozen handful, and only the freshest produce, rinsed their mouths with wine, and swilled enormous quantities of whiskey.

The ogress was proving a shrewd negotiator. Perhaps she had already glimpsed Kiera's pouch,

and guesstimated by ogreish cunning just how many coins it held, and of which denomination, simply by its visual heft and mass. Hungry not only for more cash than Kiera had, but an open meal ticket,

the ogress had demanded more than Kiera could ever muster, while leaving her without a diplomatic way to renege, having been given the magnanimous option of deferred payment. If she did not agree,

the ogress would feel justified in choosing her own path, or even doggedly pursuing her original commission from Suvani, in the hopes of bundling recompense for her imprisonment with her backpay,

and the reward for Princess Berangere.

"How can I say no? You're very generous." To yourself, Kiera seethed inwardly. As the trailing hooves and boots drummed louder, she added, "from the sounds of it, we should choose a different path."

"What paths? Only laundry lines, latrine ditches, and horse droppings run through here." Jezera wrinkled her nose. "An interesting smell, but not a good look for the Ephremian army."

Kiera ignored her and jogged on until the pursuing din broke into a gallop, prompting a blazing chandelier of fears, which were snuffed out in an instant when the ogress clasped her forearm and dragged her into a galley cart, the monster's vast bulk buckling floor boards and tipping soup casks and beer kegs to stream their lukewarm contents, so that they clambered out the other side with boots mushy with soup and sloshed with beer, a salty, yeasty aroma unpleasantly tinged by the generous road apple Kiera's heel exploded as they landed with the clatter of her armor and the boom of Jezera's bulk.

"We're going the wrong way!" Kiera hissed.

"Now they are too." Jezera hooked her thumb toward the makeshift cavalry of wounded soldiers riding mules and draft horses. "Just tell me where your Princess is, Ephremian."

Kiera churned inside. While she would have already provided this information to someone she admired and trusted, her chances of gaining the monster's help could have diminished very near zero had she put all her cards on the table. Moreover, Kiera did not care for being snapped at and mocked by the ogress. Still, with only minutes remaining before the Princess was far out of reach, this was undeniably the moment of truth. "The airship."

"What?"

"The airship. The royal flagship."

"I thought that's what you said." Jezera flicked Kiera's forehead.

"Ouch!" As Jezera's thumbnails were the width of walnuts in the shell, and her finger muscles half as wide as Kiera's wrist, it was not unlike being clouted with a quarterstaff. Her head reeled, and tears pricked her eyes.

"You're joking!"

"Why would I joke about that?"

"Where in Alsantia were we running to, then? Were you about to run straight up into the air?"

"Of course not. It touches down once a day for food and other stores, as well as for staff rotations."

"I see." Jezera cleared her throat. "That's actually pretty clever."

"Thanks. I'll thank you also, as a paying customer, not to flick me again."

"What were you thinking of doing when we arrived?"

"Does that matter now? We're short on time. They only land for thirty minutes." Kiera's cheeks burned. This was where her plan was stalled, and she didn't want Jezera to know that fact.

"I thought the Earth children were heading your armies." A wry smile, and a twinkle in her eye, said Jezera already had expected this.

"Aside from Berangere and her friend, yes."

"So...only the expendable ones. This is more of that human inequity we were only just talking about."

Kiera sighed. "While I have served faithfully unto now, don't think I approve."

"It's at least lip service, isn't it?"

"Not anymore. Look what we're about to do."

"What changed your mind?"

"Why would you care, and why should I tell you if you did?"

"You're fascinating, Pierre." At Kiera's glare, the ogress wheezed a snuffly little laugh, then wiped her eyes and nose, which had begun to leak from a much more robust mirth than such a meager little jest would suggest. "Sorry, I couldn't resist. Kiera. It's rather a nice name. Not good for my daughters, but maybe suitable for a dog, cat, or talking bird. The ordinary kind, mind you, like a parrot or mynah. I couldn't abide a pet that mouths off its own opinions, but it would be hilarious to hear mine own repeated." As Kiera simmered, Jezera's cruel humor seemed to falter, until she rubbed her chin, erasing her wicked smile altogether. "I only want your motivation, Kiera."

"In the past, I was much like you." As Jezera's eyes twinkled with renewed mirth, Kiera scowled. "I'm serious. It is a common failing in the royal guard. Having been selected for high attainments and great merit, is it no surprise that these handpicked few come to adore their own virtue?

To make an idol of their worth, to worship their honor and ethic?"

Jezera's smile darkened, but she nodded. "Your reasoning is sound, but when you follow that chain of thought a little longer, you will come to see as I did."

"That only the values you create matter?"

"Revise 'you' to 'we,' Kiera. I'm generous enough to include you in that estimate."

"Were you intending to listen to my story, or to expose me to debate?"

"Fair enough," harumphed Jezera, then fell into a moody silence.

"When I was dispatched to retrieve Berangere, my only thoughts were of how I might please his and her majesties, and so advance my own star. I conceived of myself and my ambition as something which collected light, which shone from reflecting the great honors conferred on me, as well as the virtues and achievements I had earned by my own merit. All of this was set ablaze in an instant by a greater light."

"You speak now of your princess."

Kiera shook her head. "Not the princess, but the person. Berangere was nothing like her mother and father. She was consumed neither with appearances, nor worldly things, but friendship. While I initially resented her feelings for that scruffy fox-girl, when Berangere's warm heart extended to me, I understood that friendship was the bedrock of her existence. As nothing exists that cannot be transformed by Berangere's affection, I soon warmed to her friend. How could I not, when we were both illuminated by the same light? When we both found our reality in Berangere's friendship?"

"How very sweet." Jezera's face wracked with a shudder, as if she had tasted some overly saccharine tidbit, and when her face returned very near to its milky calm reserve, her lips remained pursed, as if holding on to the unpleasant aftertaste. "I won't call it delusion, as everything we see and hear is only perception, and everything we do is only experience. So we are all deluded to one degree or another; everyone is drunk on some brand of illusion, and it would be foolish to test your brand loyalty to Berangere, when it's obviously a potent, intoxicating feeling, not unlike love."

"You bite that word off as if it was despicable, Jezera. I take it you have never loved?"

"Take whatever you want, Ephremian," groused Jezera. "Aside from my gold. And you had better leave me something for dinner. Speaking of which, do we have time for a light..."

"None at all. The royal barge lands in five minutes."

Jezera craned her neck to glimpse the coming airship. "All I see are birds. Now there's a thought." Stooping, the ogress scooped up the broken bodies of two birds: one owl and one crow.

"Not on your life."

"Don't think to come between me and my food."

"Those are talking birds!"

Jezera held the birds to her ears, mimed listening as if they were roaring seashells, then chuckled. "You wouldn't know it now."

"I won't have cannibals in my employ."

"Cannibals? Am I a bird?"

"One talking, thinking being does not eat another!"

Jezera screwed up her face, rolled her eyes heavenward, and dropped the tiny carcasses with great reluctance. "Had they tendered any objections, I wouldn't see them as snacks." She sighed.

"No, I'm just being witty. I have feasted on the living only once, and only the hand, but that guy was a real jerk, Kiera. If I've eaten my share of talking things, both humans and animals, and even a dwarf, it's only after they're dead, and usually only the rude smart-alecks. Except once, and in my defense, I was really hungry, and that woman had been so nice to me I'm sure she wouldn't have minded. She was no longer using the body."

"You don't think it's rude to eat what was once a person?"

"It was her fault for being so delicious. If I eat when I'm hungry, am I so different from you? It's a shame these birds are dead, but a bigger shame that I'll never know how they taste because you're squeamish about where your poultry comes from. And everyone knows that sometimes poultry comes from birds, but sometimes it comes from people."

"People are not poultry!"

"Now, come on! First you said eggs aren't a vegetable, when they're clearly chicken fruit, and now you say something that struts on two legs and flops around when cut in two isn't poultry!"

Kiera was beginning to feel physically ill; was this the ogress's plan? If nauseated to the point of vomiting, Kiera would be easier prey, even in armor. "You're trying to rattle me."

"If I wanted to rattle you, I'd pick you up and give you a good shake."

Long before they saw the airship, its droning hum shook the camp's tents and shivered the flags.

In a sky still choked by swarming, battling birds, the royal barge glided low, and didn't nose over the hilly horizon until nearly over top of camp.

"We have to hurry," Kiera said.

Jezera loped along after her, still smiling. Was it Kiera's imagination, or did Jezera's smile take on a vengeful slant?

Kiera began to get a little anxious; not that she was fearful of combat, even of locking swords with former comrades, but every minute that raced on brought Kiera that much closer to Jezera's devastating criticisms, which would soon have more than enough material, as this was where her complete lack of a plan fell apart, to the point that it would be a miracle if the ogress salvaged anything practical from the wreckage of her plan. "That's where they're landing?"

"Yes."

Where two covered wagons parked in a large glade cleared from the woods, nearly a hundred soldiers were massing, one quarter lancers mounted on kariks. one quarter archers mounted on talking antelopes, one half footmen clasping halberds and pikes.

"Kiera."

"Yes."

"I see now why you felt the need for consultation." While her tone was amused, Jezera was no longer smiling. "Your great need has strained the demands of common sense."

"Common sense? Are you calling me mad?"

At Kiera's seething tone, Jezera monstrous head nodded in a surprisingly gentle laugh. "I know. Isn't that the pot calling the kettle black. And if the odds were a quarter what they were, this would be my kind of crazy."

"Then it's a good thing I brought an ogre with me."

"Even if I'm good for a dozen, and you're equal to half that, there are no odds here, Kiera, no long shot at all. This is plain impossible, and you'd have to be stark, raving mad not to see that."

"What about your much-vaunted work ethic? I've paid for your services, ogress."

"I see we're not on first name basis anymore, are we Ephremian? I said I'd lend my strong arm to your cause, and I will, even if only to chuck you onto their pikes. If it's suicide you're after, I'll oblige you, but count me out."

"You can't think of any way for us to enter the airship?"

"Of course I can! We could hand ourselves over, but that would end in your court martial, and my being returned to my cell, if we are both very lucky. If we're not lucky, we'll be meted battlefield justice, which seems more likely, since we're on the cusp of either a tremendous Ephremian defeat, or the greatest Ephremian victory."

Kiera frowned. "I can't see any road to victory here."

"That's because humans have a problem with positive thinking."

"What of the Stranger?"

"There are other absolutes than him on this battlefield, such as sharpness, pointiness, heaviness, and death. Even with a god, or something pretending to be one, here on the battlefield, weapons still work. Sometimes the side with all the advantages loses anyway; it's hubris not to think both defeat and victory lie in the future. I didn't want to help you, but here I am. You won that unlikely battle, didn't you?"

"That's completely different..."

"No it isn't. Yesterday I would have thought it an utter impossibility."

"If it's not, then why aren't you helping me?"

Jezera sighed. "I don't mind taking a chance here and there, but you didn't give me any time for strategy. You should have told me from the beginning what we're facing." Jezera's brows knitted. "An open assault would be fun, but the last fun I'd have, so that's out; concealment, say, on the wagons, would have required more advance preparation, so that's out; and I'm pretty sure we can rule out a friendly conversation."

"So this looks hopeless even to you?" Kiera had not expected such profound reasonableness from the monster. Despite her smoothness and sarcasm, Jezera dwelled in an anti-rational universe of chicken-fruit and people-poultry, where her mind danced along ever-yielding surfaces and her terms bent in every direction she liked. To hear the brawny but brainy ogress enumerate not a how-to, but the reasons why not, boomed like a death knell to Kiera. A tremendous defeat, Jezera had said. A doom rung for all Ephremia, and those still walking simply hadn't noticed their moment of death had sounded. Now it rang for Kiera. Surely it wasn't just a problem of positive thinking? "Then there's nothing we can do."

"That's where you're wrong, Ephremian. There's always room for spite and malice when the productive and sensible options have been tried or taken." The ogress grumbled. "As you have hired me, I'm ready to be deployed as you see fit. But I won't pretend to consult you in this. You need a different kind of thinker, a puzzler or a diplomat, not a destroyer."

"Then what am I paying for?" Kiera said.

"I resent that," groused Jezera. "As a professional soldier, I know when victory is in reach."

"Any fool knows when they've won. And for that matter, I'm a professional soldier, who best knows her mettle. You're a professional mercenary, who best knows her market value."

"You're no good at pep talks." As Jezera seethed, her eyes glowered.

"You just said we can only throw our lives away here."

"There's one tack we might try," said Jezera, "if it's a little cliched."

"In wartime, we call old tricks 'tried and true.' Which one did you have in mind?"

"In Alsantia, the Stray Cat stratagem is named for the treacherous kitten who let in the locust hordes; on Earth, I've heard it called the Trojan Horse and the Wookie Gambit."

"Wookie?"

"On board that air galley, or in that field of warriors, do any know you sprang me from the brig?"

"It's doubtful."

"So who's to say we're collaborators?"

"Considering there isn't an odder couple this side of the battle lines, what else would we be?"

"I would be a prisoner with a tale to tell, and you would be escorting me to your king and queen."

"But why now? With defeat looming over us?"

"Well, I have a secret that might alter the course of the war, obviously."

Kiera's heart leaped. "You do?"

After an ugly, overlong snicker, Jezera said, "you see how in desperate times such a whopper is easily believed, even by a conspirator privy to my plan. Not that they will truly believe us, just as you don't really now, but their desperate need to believe overrides their common sense."

Kiera quailed inside. It was one thing to steal the princess away through subtlety and intrigue,

and it was another to lie in the faces of her king and queen, who had granted every blessing in her life.

Every blessing but the one she truly valued. Every blessing but Berangere. Even as foreboding swept over her, it steeled into resolve. Or was this simply, as Jezera said, more desperation overriding her common sense?

"It won't work," Kiera's head sunk to her chest so rapidly that the ear guards of her helmet clattered on her breastplate.

"It would take a miracle." A black and dour smile sourly twisted Jezera's lips. "And the miracles all seem to be on the other side. But who knows, maybe one might land by mistake at our feet?"

"I see what you mean by positive thinking." When Kiera raised her head, the ogress seemed sadder, as if drawn with a melancholy squiggle, until she realized Jezera was clouded by her misty vision, which had teared up with cold, wet tears, which clung to her eyes and wouldn't fall, like so many tiny icicles. "Who is to say our side has no miracles. Ancient enchanted armors; talking antelopes, stags, cats, hounds, and birds; a flying airship; fairies; and, a rare alliance of three distant lands, Ephremia, Teriana, and Daiko." She drew herself up proudly. "We watched a world die, Jezera. You yourself have stood on three worlds."

"It's not very philsophical to call a fascinating string of strange phenomenae and bizarre experiences miracles, but it's eminently reasonable. Run with that, Kiera. Idealism and optimism is a good look for you."

"I don't know what you're saying. Are all ogres like you?"

"Are all humans as depressing and monosyllabic as you?" grumbled Jezera. "How should I answer that? Even if I should want to correct your prejudice, and say 'yes, ogres have been known to have conversations,' it's hardly fair to lump myself in with all ogres."

"You're right. I'm very sorry. I'm not myself, because I'm stalling for time."

"What an interesting idea," snickered Jezera. "Say what you will about the uneducated, but they're often original thinkers."

Kiera was strongly tempted to ask the ogress whatsoever she was babbling about, then suppressed this impulse, fearing more jibber-jabber would prolong their procrastination another five minutes, when the galley would once again ascend into the sky.

For as they argued, the airship had landed, dropped its gates and cargo doors, and exchanged one contingent of serving staff and guards for another, while human, dwarven, and badger magimechanics opened the engine doors and, shielded from the sparking, seething engine by blast visors, administered to its enchantments and mechanisms with wrenches and wands.

Even as precious time slipped away, Kiera and Jezera had gazed dully on the airship, and continued their banter rather than attempt their poorly thought-out but indispensible plan.

"We have to go now," said Kiera.

"We had to go about thirty seconds ago," snorted Jezera, and plucking Kiera up in one hand and tucking her under her shoulder like a farmer might a piglet, lumbered down to the clearing, where the many hands attending on the airship one by one cocked their heads at her hasty and booming tread, then flashed a look toward the advancing monster.

"How is this believable?" groaned Kiera. "Who's the prisoner now?"

"But they don't know I've surrendered, no, completely capitulated to, your fine morality." Jezera chuckled. "I could get used to this. Being good is fun. Why do you goody-goody types whine and moan all the time? Don't you love lifting your chin as you're stomping down the high road?"

As Jezera hurtled the palisade--an earthen wall fortified by long, sharp logs--the Ephremians, in their ancient, ornate armors, massed in a tight, glistening phalanx, like dragon scales coiling to spring. The front rank dropped to one knee, raised their pikes, and screwed their faces in awful grimaces that said they feared pitting the strength of their pole arms versus a quarter ton ogress; the next rank planted their feet, raised their pikes over their kneeling comrades, and stretched their faces in ugly grunts as they braced for collision; and the ranks following thundered their pike staffs against their shields and cheered bravely from behind their comrades.

"Stop, stop, stop!" shouted Kiera.

"I don't think they're listening."

"Not them, you monster! Put me down!"

Having charged within forty feet of the front line, Jezera came to an abrupt halt, set Kiera on her feet, then sarcastically pretended to dust off the petite warrior's shoulders and align her armor.

When Jezera's thunderous advance stopped, the frontline only hunkered down more, and the hindward ranks shouted and roared, building such a fearful crescendo until they sounded twenty times their number.

Kiera opened her mouth to warn the ogress, but her alarm was drowned in the clamor. Though she raised her voice to a shout, it was trampled under the rising din, which now savaged on all sides.

Why couldn't she make herself heard? Having screamed at the top of her lungs to no avail, Kiera was no so maddened that she might have run away in sheer frustration, but as her cheeks burned with rage, the dingy, overcast day was overshadowed by a sudden night, as shadows clumped to the ramparts, and as the clouds of birds thickened.

They were not the only ones who thought to take advantage of the air galley's daily descent, Kiera realized too late, as the ramparts exploded under the deafening stomp of the karik-mounted Atlantean cavalry.