The chimaera, however mindful of their generals clear commands, may have found more occasions than necessary to wearily lean, palms pressed to rock in support of their weight. That the magic of the hamsas passed through stone was unlikely, but it wasnt for lack of trying. The black-handed butchers, they called the Misbegotten, and spoke in murmurs of hacking off their marked hands and burning them.
And then, atop the general confusion and compounding it, was the despair that had carved each of them hollow, and which still echoed in them like a fading drumbeat, beast and angel alike. None spoke of it, each holding it a private weakness. These soldiers may never have felt despair as profound as the one that had passed through them earlier, but they had certainly felt despair.
Like fear, it was always, always suffered in silence.
Well? asked Issa when Karou returned, alone, to the village. Shed lagged behind Thiago, Ten, and Lisseth, having had quite her fill of their company, and Issa had come up to meet her at the turning of the path. How did it go?
About how youd expect, Karou replied. Bloodlust and bravado.
From everyone? Issa probed.
Pretty much. She avoided Issas eyes. It wasnt true. Neither Akiva nor Thiago had displayed either of those things, but the result was the same as if they had. She rubbed her eyes. God, she was tired. Brace for a full onslaught.
Its to be attack, then? Well. Wed better get to work.
Karou let out a hard breath. They had until dawn. How many resurrections could they possibly perform by then? What good is a handful more soldiers in the face of a fight like this?
We do what we can, said Issa.
And this is all we can do? Because warriors make our plans.
Issa was silent a moment. They were still at the outskirts of the village, at a hairpin turn in the rock passage around the other side of which the dwellings began, the path continuing down toward the square. And if an artist were to make our plans? asked Issa gently.
Karou clenched her teeth. She knew shed given the war council no alternative to consider. She remembered Lirazs mockery: Why dont we just go and ask Jael to leave? If only. And the angels all went quietly home and no one died. The end.
Fat chance of that.
I dont know, she admitted bitterly to Issa, starting down the path with heavy steps. Do you remember that drawing I did once, for an assignment? I had to illustrate the concept of war?
Issa nodded. I remember it well. We talked about it long after you had gone.
Karou had drawn two monstrous men facing each other across a table, and in front of each was an enormous bowl of people. Writhing tiny limbs, wretched tiny grimaces. And the men were digging in with forkseach into the others bowlfrenzied with hunger, pitching bite after bite of people into their gaping mouths.
The idea was that whoever emptied the others bowl first won the war. And I drew that before I even knew about Eretz, the war here, or Brimstones part in it.
Your soul knew, said Issa. Even if your mind didnt.
Maybe, Karou allowed. I kept thinking about that drawing in the war council, and our part in all of this. We cheat the bowl. We keep filling it back up, and the monsters keep stabbing their giant forks in, and because of us, theres always more for them to eat. We never lose but we never win, either. We just keep on dying. Is that what we do?
Its what we did , corrected Issa, placing her cool hand on Karous arm. Sweet girl, she said. She was so lovely, her face as sweet as a Renaissance Madonnas. You know that Brimstone had greater hopes of you.
In the chimaera tongue, the pronoun you has a singular form and a plural, and here, Issa used the plural. Brimstone had greater hopes of you, plural.
You and Akiva. Karou remembered Brimstone telling her Madrigal -her, in her prison cell, just before her executionthat the only way he could keep on doing what he did century after century was by believing that he was keeping the chimaera alive. Until the world can be remade, Karou said softly, echoing what he had told her then.
He couldnt do it, said Issa, just as softly. And the Warlord couldnt.
Certainly Thiago never could. But you might. Again, you plural.
I dont know how to get there, she told Issa, like the sharing of a terrible secret. Were here, chimaera and seraphim, together but not really. Everyone still wants to kill each other and probably will. Its not exactly a new world.
Listen to your instincts, sweet girl.
Karou laughed, slappy with fatigue. What if my instincts are telling me to go to sleep, and wake up when its all done? Worlds fixed, portals closed, everyone on their proper side, Jael defeated, and no more war.
Issa only smiled and said, You wouldnt want to sleep through this, love. These are extraordinary times. Her smile was beatific until it turned mischievous. Or they will be, once you figure out how to make them so.
Karou smacked her lightly on the shoulder. Great. Thanks. No pressure.
Issa pulled her in for a hug, and it felt like a thousand past Issa hugs that had always had the power to infuse her with strengththe strength of the belief of others. She had Brimstones belief in her, too.