CH417 · Rewrite
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Chapter 417: Strike Back

Lightning had found them a hollow in the ridge beyond the wind’s reach and had the tent up before Nightingale could ask.

Nightingale sat by the fire. She rolled up her trouser leg and looked at her calf in the firelight—the skin stained dark with blood, the flesh around the wound swollen and beginning to discolor. During the escape she’d felt almost nothing; the body’s own chemistry had seen to that. Now, sitting still with the fire’s warmth reaching her, she couldn’t have lifted her leg without wincing.

If Maggie hadn’t come when she had, she wouldn’t have made it another hundred steps with the Marquess.

“Let me help, coo.” Maggie had already opened the supply pack. Cotton, rubbing alcohol, and the herbal preparation Leaf had compounded for the group—her medicinal signature.

Nightingale pressed her teeth together when the alcohol hit the wound. The smell was sharp enough to burn the eyes. Roland had explained the reasoning—bacteria, the mechanism of the demonic plague, a chain of logic she’d followed and trusted—but trust didn’t make it hurt less. The herbal medicine followed, and the burn receded like something being led gently back to sea. By the time the bandaging was done she felt almost functional.

“Your back,” Spear said quietly. “Is it alright?”

Lightning ducked into the tent with a bundle of firewood and caught the tail of this. “What happened to your back?”

“She used herself as a shield,” Spear said. Her voice had gone very flat, the way voices go when something hasn’t quite been absorbed yet. “The bolts—she blocked them for me.”

“Two punches worth of bruising.” Nightingale kept her voice dismissive. “I won’t sleep on it, that’s all.”

“Better to put Leaf’s medicine on it too,” Lightning said, crouching by the fire and arranging the wood with the small focused motions of someone who had learned this skill by doing it in worse weather. “It helps with bruising as well as cuts.”

“Lay here, coo.” Maggie patted her lap with the gravity of an apprentice surgeon. “I’ll apply it.”

The look on the white-haired girl’s face was entirely serious. Nightingale didn’t argue. She eased down, took her jacket off with her arms still covering herself, and stretched out. The Marquess drew a quiet breath at what the firelight showed on her back.

It looks worse than it is. Witches healed faster than ordinary people—the bruises would be gone in two or three days. The body knew what to do.

While Maggie worked, Nightingale talked. She gave the Marquess the full account of what she’d overheard in the tower room: the conspiracy assembled piece by piece around a false accusation, Redwyne as the instrument, the Saint as the architect, the church as the beneficiary. None of it had been about Spear’s being a witch. The witch-accusation had been a convenience discovered after the fact—a bonus.

“If they’re willing to murder a marquess,” Spear said, her voice still flat but harder now beneath it, “I’ll make Redwyne and that priest pay for every piece of it.”

“The church kills kings without pausing for breath,” Nightingale said. “Think of Everwinter. Wolfheart. Redwyne is just a tool they’ll discard when he’s no longer useful.”

Spear absorbed this in silence. “Do they really intend to swallow all four kingdoms? I’ve heard merchants say it. The nobles in King’s City called it absurd.”

“The nobles in King’s City also called Roland Wimbledon a rebel king and a fool.” Nightingale shrugged. “Conquering the four kingdoms is only the first step in what the church is actually building—but I can’t tell you the full scope unless you join the Witch Union. What I can tell you is this: however many of your people have already crossed to Redwyne’s side, most of them were bought with promises of position. Without the church behind it, that arrangement collapses. And without Fallen Dragon Ridge, your position as lord means nothing. If you want it back, His Highness can help you take it.”

“Will he really help me?”

“Dismantling the church is as much our obligation as it is our duty.” A small smile. “And you won’t be a prisoner in Border Town. His Highness never compels anyone to stay.”

Spear was quiet. She had the look of someone in the middle of a calculation they hadn’t chosen to begin.

“Believe me,” Nightingale said, recognizing the expression. “You can leave the Western Region whenever you wish. That offer doesn’t expire.”

“Is it true?” Spear asked—the same question she’d asked twice now. “He’s really built a place where witches and ordinary people live side by side?”

“Yes.” Nightingale said it without qualification. “It’s the witches’ Holy Mountain.”

In the firelight, something shifted in the Marquess’s face. The calculation resolved into something that wasn’t quite resolution and wasn’t quite surrender—more like a door being opened, slowly, by someone who hadn’t opened one in a long time.

“Do we set out tomorrow?” she asked.

“Not yet,” Nightingale and Lightning said in the same breath.

They looked at each other. Lightning started laughing first.

“The church will try to send word to the Holy City,” Nightingale explained. “We need to intercept every pigeon they dispatch over the next two days. After that, Maggie can take you to Border Town.” She paused. “I have something left to do here.”

She had been turning the Saint’s parting words over since the tower: I’ll head to Redwater City once this is done. Wherever that woman went, some fresh crisis arrived with her—something she’d been sent to arrange, some new piece of the church’s plan clicking into place. If Nightingale could stop her before she reached Redwater City, she might not only sabotage the plan but collect whatever intelligence the Saint carried.

She was already fairly certain Roland would want her back in Border Town immediately. If he said so, she would go.

She almost hoped he would say so.


Three days later, Maggie returned from Border Town with two passengers on her back.

“Why are you here?” Nightingale asked.

Andrea stepped off first, shaking her hood back and letting her blonde hair settle. “His Highness sent us. He said to tell you he’s waiting for you back at the castle.” She held up two fingers. “We get ice cream bread.”

Ashes followed, already scanning the terrain with the calm professional interest of someone evaluating a worksite. “You can’t wipe out a church platoon without me. Obviously.”

“His Highness says to do what you planned,” Maggie added, having shifted back to her girl-shape and perched on a low branch. “But safety first, coo. He said he’ll wait for you.”

Really. Nightingale felt something settle in her chest—warmth, and the specific variety of it that doesn’t announce itself. “I understand.”

“So how many?” Ashes raised an eyebrow. “I heard there’s a witch among them.”

“At most twenty Judgement Warriors, plus servants and believers. Maybe a hundred total.” She kept her voice even. “Handle the others. Leave the witch to me.”

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