It took me two days to decide what to do with Shira. I had called her a prisoner, but something about the idea of locking her in some hole to be ransomed back or forgotten grated on me. Besides, eventually Varys would find out and take her, whatever my wishes. I had thwarted him so far, but that was not guaranteed forever. If this little light was to understand her new world, part of that awakening would include learning to harness her own strength.

Vex's thin eyebrow arched skeptically when I told her my intention. "You mean to make an assassin for yourself, my lady? Sidon and Lera will use any training and knowledge you give her against you."

I shrugged. "Should I leave her lying around helplessly as bait?"

"I was thinking as a meal."

"She's skin and bones, Vex." I cinched the saddle down another notch on the horse I'd taken from Sidon's favorite commander. Tavuus was a fine warhorse, with a temperament much more suited to me than the soft idiot he'd been previously saddled with.

"She looks more tender than stringy," the wight said in a low voice, glancing back at Shira.

The young woman seemed slightly better than she had been, dressed in one of my spare shirts and fitted leather pants, with a thick doublet of blood-red wool to keep away some of the chill. Her appearance was almost strange to me, rosy-cheeked from the cold in a way undead never were. Her eyes still watched Vex and I fearfully, circled by shadows from the cruelties of Varys that haunted her in her sleep. She was slightly built and smaller than me, with more girlish curves. I had long ago lost that softness and my northern blood meant I stood a full head above her. My youth was spent eating meat and chasing storms in the barbarian north, while she had grown on a farmer's diet with not much in the way of spare food.

I turned to face Vex and her eager hunger. "No. That's my final answer."

"Very well," Vex conceded, clearly disappointed. "Shall I fetch some rope?"

"She rides with me," I said pointedly. "A leash will not be required."

Vex pursed thin lips. "A prisoner, my lady?" Clearly her opinion was that I should be dragging the young woman behind my horse, if only to avoid getting peasant on my person. Her minor noble roots had a habit of showing. To her, I was royalty above all others except the King in Black himself.

"She'd slow us down and I would rather be back at the Sanctum sooner than later. She cannot move as tirelessly as the undead or as fast as a horse."

My faithful wight sighed. "As you wish, my lady."

I turned and whistled sharply, catching Shira's attention. "Over here, priestess." The last word fell off my lips with a bitterness I made no effort to disguise.

The truth was that I felt conflicted every time I looked at her. She was a servant of the same gods who sent chosen one after chosen one to end me...but she was also young and painfully naive, perhaps more so than the boy I had cut down. Could I not afford her the same softness I felt towards him? Surely she was a pawn of the Light too. She had been duped by them, manipulated into aiding and abetting leaders like Lord Sidon and his liege, Princess Lera.

Maybe that was why I thought of her protection even as I knew my efforts would strip away that coveted innocence already damaged by Varys. Was that cruel of me, to make her see the world as I knew it was?

Probably, but cruelty was in my blood and bone.

Shira approached, muscles tight like wire. I could see her ready to flee, though she still glanced around nervously at Vex and towards Varys's section of the camp, now pulled up and ready to move. We had stayed in one place for just long enough for Vex's seconds to carry out my order: the road to the border was lined with heads. Some of the enemy army had survived, withdrawing out of the Eternal Kingdom with hungry undead gnashing at their heels. The survivors would have scars and nightmares for the rest of their days.

I opened my saddlebags and pulled out a small tin and a wrap of bandages. "Hold out your hands." My order was sharp and firm.

She obeyed immediately. No doubt Vex had told her that I didn't care to repeat myself. I took one hand and then the other, using my dagger to slice away the bandages that she'd applied herself. My grip was strong, but the touch of razor-sharp steel was barely a whisper against her skin. I didn't nick her once. The wounds were red and puffy, the sign of a first stage of some infection. No doubt it pained her greatly. I carefully removed the lid of the tin and grabbed her right forearm first.

My face stayed as impassive as stone when she cried out in pain at the application of the healing salve. It burned horribly, but that was its way of purging the infection. As I watched tears drip down her face, a twinge started in my chest.

I hated it when they cried.

Still, I kept to my work. Once every wound was smeared with the substance, I wrapped her hands and wrists up to almost her elbows in clean linen. She bit her lip to try and stop herself from crying out. I wasn't gentle, but the bandages were at the correct tension, firmly in place without cutting off circulation.

"Shira."

She looked up at me with pleading eyes still full of tears from the burning salve.

I frowned, an expression that sent a shudder of fear through her body. "If you struggle, I will bind you hand and foot. Do you understand?"

The young priestess nodded, suddenly uncertain.

"Get on Tavuus," I said, jerking my head towards the horse. I had removed his military saddle, knowing full well that it would only get in the way of both of us. Instead, he wore a broad-backed riding saddle with a thick blanket of padding beneath, so she could sit in the front with me at her back It meant if a fight broke out, an enemy would find it far easier to unseat me, but that was not really a danger at the moment unless Varys did something suicidally stupid.

She hesitated, delicate fingers dancing in the air towards Vex.

"What is she saying?" I demanded, feeling my patience already wearing thin.

"She says she doesn't understand."

"It was a simple order," I said coldly, watching her shift fearfully at that tone in my voice.

Vex sighed, clearly annoyed that she'd been relegated to translator for a walking meal. "That, she understood. The reason, however, eludes her."

I grabbed Shira by the chin with a cruel grip, pulling her in until we were almost nose to nose. "My motives are not your concern," I said sharply. "Get on the horse or I will drag you behind it."

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She nodded, fresh tears welling in her eyes. I released her the second they started and let her move past me, up onto Tavuus. The warhorse wouldn't budge at her command, so I wasn't worried about her fleeing on his back. I stepped up into the stirrup and swung a leg over, settling in behind her. I reached around her with one hand, taking the reins, and adjusted how Woe was strapped to the saddle with my other hand.

"Shall I return to our contingent of undead, my lady?" Vex asked, looking up at the pair of us.

"That would be best. We will see you when we reach the Sanctum," I said. My horse was considerably faster than the horde of undead, particularly with the enchantments worked into his horse-shoes, but they could move through the night without tiring. We didn't have to make our way all the way to the Sanctum on foot, fortunately: the King in Black had prepared our way with a massive spellgate, conjured to permit us a much faster and more comfortable passage back.

Shira shifted nervously in front of me, clearly not entirely comfortable with the press of my armor against her back and sides. I urged Tavuus forward, keeping one hand loose on the reins and the other hand tight on her hip. It meant the sharp points of my gauntlet's fingertips bit into her flesh, but she was wearing thick enough clothing to keep warm, which turned that grip from painful to uncomfortable.

It was a long ride to the gate, at least ten hours following the roads here. At least they were well made. The undead made for fine construction workers, who never tired or bitched about pay, and we built our roads like the walls of the city: each was constructed in a trench built six feet deep and twenty-five feet wide, filled entirely with perfectly stacked paving stones that fit together like the pieces of a puzzle. It made moving an army so much easier than whatever rutted nonsense existed beyond the borders of the Eternal Kingdom.

Ever so slowly as we rode, Shira leaned back into me under the weight of her own exhaustion. Her dreams kept her awake most of the night, fearfully watching the tent's entrance in case Varys appeared. It was something I intended to remedy when we returned to the Sanctum.

The snow faded away as we moved, the intensity of the winter fading by will of the storm-weavers. When the King in Black had taken the northern mountains, my homeland, he had made good use of the shamans and their weather magic. Most stayed in my contingent, preferring rule by 'one of their own', even if I had joined civilization long ago. The enchantments woven into the very thread of the doublet I'd given Shira kept her just warm enough to be comfortable, particularly when she pulled the sleeves down over her freezing hands.

I appreciated the silence of her vow over the course of the ride. There were no pestering questions to draw my mind out of its thoughts, a relentless contemplation of the priestess's future. I had no doubt that Vex was right: if I gave her any useful skills, they would be turned against me.

However, they would much more readily be turned against Varys if he attempted to assault her, and that was a thought that brought me something approaching savage delight. Some peasant girl stabbing out one of his eyes would wound his pride far more than I would ever be able to. I knew better than to let such emotions get the better of me, but the thought entertained me.

Shira suddenly tensed and I looked to the right, where a wolf the size of the great polar bears had come up alongside, midnight black fur barely concealing the ripple of its muscles as it moved.

"Luka," I greeted, inclining my head to the wolf.

Our spymaster twisted his head up towards us, eyes gleaming with interest. His words were a growl, but long ago had Luka mastered the art of manipulating his form so that he could speak even as a beast. "What a picture, Aleyr. The conqueror carrying off some fair maiden as a prize of battle. I hope you don't intend to take a page from Varys's book. It would be most unbecoming."

My lip curled in disgust. "That you make the comparison is insulting."

Luka's tongue lolled a moment before he spoke, long and pointed, almost more serpentine than wolf-like. "Forgive me, Lady Frostborn. I spoke in jest." He always took a more thoughtful, deferential tone when he wanted to soothe my legendary temper. I was not quick to anger most of the time, but my rage could be as devastating as a mountain's spilling fire when it was roused.

Shira clung to my armor, hooking her fingers behind the straps that held my shield to my back. I seldom used it, preferring to keep both hands on Woe, but it was useful for training purposes and so I carried it with me on campaign. She looked ghost white as she stared at the massive, speaking wolf.

"What can I do for you, Luka? Your presence here is not a coincidence."

"You sound so certain of that, Aleyr." His lips rippled back from his teeth, baring fangs in what he imagined was a disarming smile.

I adjusted my grip on Shira's hip, squeezing a little more tightly to make certain she didn't fall in fright. "I am quite aware that I owe you for so deftly handling the spoils of war."

"It pleases me to hear that you might entertain a humble request from a lowly spymaster."

I glanced over at him, arching an eyebrow. "Have you ever known me to neglect my debts? Make your request, Luka. I will do what is within my power to honor it."

"When we return to the Sanctum, I would like you to mediate a quarrel between fangwardens," Luka said. "There are...family entanglements involved, and it would be most prudent to have an unbiased arbiter."

I knew that meant Riyd was involved. Luka's daughter was far wilder than her father. She spent most of her time in beast shapes, resentful of the authorities that curtailed her nature, including him. "The nature of the disagreement?"

"Maiming. The Shadeclaw wishes blood, not gold, in response. This would naturally create a large problem." Luka shrugged his powerful shoulders between strides. "I would prefer not to deal with warfare between clans. A direct representative of the King in Black could nip the dispute in the bud."

"I'm surprised you didn't approach Lady Teth. Her tongue is far more silver than my own."

"She is two-hearted and three-faced. The clans respect power more direct in its usage. Besides, who would dare ignore the will of the Beloved herself?" Luka was an oddity in that regard, far more adroit at the games of politics and survival in the Undying Court than most of his kind. They tended to live in the wild places away from such things, not thriving on the strange energy he seemed to draw from the little games everyone played. Perhaps that was part of his rationale for stepping back as well: while he advised the clans, he did not command their absolute obedience by his very nature.

I sighed. "I am an outsider. They will not appreciate a variable they do not understand."

Again, Luka gave me that eerie, fang-filled smile. "Precisely."

I adjusted my grip on the reins. "Very well. When we have settled in, have the interested parties meet me in the Circle. Last I heard, that was neutral ground for your people."

"My gratitude, Aleyr. I find the earnestness with which you fulfill your debts most agreeable."

I grinned back at him, a dark humor flashing in my heart. "You may not sing the same tune after I have made my decision."

Luka's laugh came as a harsh bark. "I think we have demonstrated that any solution that suits one perfectly does not suit the whole." He glanced over at Shira with one yellow eye. "What are you going to do with the girl? She is such a soft thing."

I weighed my options. I could lie, to Shira as much as him since she was listening to the conversation, but the truth was often more useful with Luka. "That won't last."

"Varys will seek to take her back."

I smiled thinly. "If I have my way, she will make him regret the attempt."

Luka shook his head slightly. "Ah, to shape the youth. Such a noble goal, Aleyr." He switched languages, speaking to me in the tongue of the Dead. "Varys can force her to break her vows, but you could entice her to break them of her own accord. What sweetness surpasses corruption?"

I shrugged, my attention pulled away from him towards the hum of magic ahead. A massive, pulsing gate of dark blue energy glowed ahead. Much of the army was already marching through it, Maric and Teth's contingents always the first to arrive. They were always quick to comment on my 'fashionable lateness' to every battle, but they knew that was by design. For the most part, the King in Black kept me in reserve, always hiding his strength if it was not absolutely needed. As a consequence, I and my contingent would be the last through the gate. Still, in a matter of minutes, I would be back in the halls I had called home for more years than I cared to count. I was already looking forward to it.

"A sight for sore eyes," Luka growled, eyes lighting up at the shimmering vision that was the gate. The vast, sprawling ivory towers of the Sanctum were clearly visible through the magical connection.

Shira released her hold on my armor, slumping slightly. No doubt she knew that to set foot into the heart of the Eternal Kingdom reduced her chance of escape to nonexistence.

We rode closer and closer, sending a shiver through me as the cold presence in my ring grew stronger at the proximity.

The voice of the King in Black caressed my ear as I urged Tavuus through the glowing window crossing such space. "Welcome home."