The audacity of that request actually stunned Ash into silence. After a brief moment, he recovered enough to say, “As you know, that is something we are capable of helping with, but it is not…uh, easy.”

Faith, predictably, was less than impressed. Tipping her chair back from the table, she yawned, “I have considered doing something like that, but it seems like a lot of work.”

I couldn’t quite suppress a snicker.

Nyryx, who by now had found a seat in the corner, flicked a wary glance between Faith and Salia, as if afraid that her friend was making a poor impression on her superior.

The Reconciled leader, who must have been forewarned about Faith’s unconventional personal style, so to speak, eyeballed my crewmate and then rebuked her, “I realize that your modus operandi is to be flippant, but please understand: If the Ascendent set in motion the things that we think they intend to set in motion, it will be catastrophic for you, us, and most of the Imperium.” (Salia’s information brokering must have broken down entirely if she thought that a “Think of the Imperium!” appeal would move Faith.) “They must be stopped – and quickly.”

Here I saw a chance to extract intel while testing the Reconciled’s cooperative spirit. “What do you know about the pillars?” I interjected, making it sound as if I already knew everything and merely wanted to see how much she would tell us for free.

Salia didn’t hesitate. “We think they’re planning to steal the Demon Princes.”

“My gods,” I breathed, giving myself away.

Faith’s chair legs thumped back onto the carpet. “Ha! I was right!” she crowed – before suddenly remembering that she wasn’t supposed to care. With a shrug and eyeroll, she slouched back down and drawled, “I mean….”

“Holy – ” Ash gasped. “And harnessing them for their Ascension ritual?”

“Of course,” replied Salia, matter-of-factly.

In my head, I was arguing ferociously with myself over whether I should stay to see how the rest of this conversation played out – or leave immediately to warn Sigmund.

Ash’s next question – which I hadn’t even considered – decided me: “Could it be possible that one of the Ascendent is already paired with one of the Demon Princes? I’m not an expert on demonic lore. Or terrifying Church rituals.”

I settled back into my chair, tense and expectant.

“I’m not either,” Salia responded, picking her words with a care for ambiguity that, magnified thousand-fold, might remind me of Grandfather. “But my presumption is that that is their plan. How feasible it is, I don’t know. Obviously, they’ve never attempted Ascension with anything nearly so powerful.”

Somewhat perversely, I felt a twinge of pride in our Demon Princes, who trumped Akorosian demons any day. Although, speaking of the Demon Princes…. I reached into the corner of my mind where Grandfather always hovered, and poked it to make sure it was paying attention.

It most definitely was.

Did you know about this? Do you want this to happen?

I had begun to suspect. And no, it replied with uncharacteristic directness.

Although anything Grandfather said was automatically suspect, it actually sounded sincere (for some definition of sincere). I was sure that it had already known more than it suggested, though. Ixis always knew more than he suggested.

Meanwhile, Ash was pressing, “What’s the timetable? Can they do it again soon?” and Salia was pointing out, “I’m not an expert on the inner workings of the Church.”

In unison, all of us looked at Faith – who smiled back cryptically.

Typical.

“I think we have to assume that they can do this at a moment’s notice,” Salia said, regretful over both that assumption and her ally’s lack of helpfulness.

“That would be catastrophic beyond imagining!” Ash proclaimed. “We take out the Ascendent, and we sink that ship.”

(Irimina would love that one.)

“As far as we know, the ship isn’t in motion,” Salia hastened to correct him, her tone indicating that she had full faith in her knowledge.

My thoughts kept spiraling back towards the black crystal spires of the Demon Princes, the way they towered over and overshadowed everything that happened in U’Duasha. What made these Akorosians think that they could sneak past all of the Gualim, sidle up to the spires, physically saw through their bases, shift them onto some sort of gigantic wheeled contraption (what kind of human-made device could even handle that weight?), and then haul them out to barges for transportation down the Asha’va River to Bright Harbor and the Lancer? How could that possibly work?

“But it can’t be that easy – ” I started to protest, then clamped my mouth shut when all the pieces fell into place. “That’s what the invasion is for,” I breathed. “Invade, crush Iruvia, and then steal the spires.”

“That is our presumption.” Salia’s sharp hand gesture conveyed all of her frustration with the situation. “Again, we were trying to confirm all of this before we took action, but given Djera Maha’s death, we may simply have to run on our theories.”

I was impressed that she somehow managed to avoid sounding accusing, but it went right over Ash’s head.

“Fair enough.” He barked out an incredulous laugh at what our crew was about to do. “Well – we need a plan.”

“You do,” Salia agreed. “We believe that Admiral Strangford will return to port next month. He is your first target.”

“And Dunvil’s protegée, this Lauretta Mayvin, is the second?”

Salia shook her head. “I believe she is not Ascended at this time.”

Helpful for a change (in her own fashion, of course), Faith confirmed, “I would describe her as ‘temporarily not Ascended.’”

No one challenged her description. In a tone that said he already knew the answer, Ash said, “I assume Dunvil is the last target?”

“It does seem easiest to knock out his supporters first and then go after Dunvil himself.”

“So who’s the second?”

“Elder Rowan. The Commander of the Spirit Wardens. She and Dunvil are devoted work colleagues who hate each other. However, she is also very zealous.”

That was unfortunate – but unsurprising.

“Who else hates the Church enough to help us?” asked Ash, angling for more information on this elusive, aristocratic Circle of Flame that so intrigued him. “And possesses the skills and resources to help us?”

Before either of the Reconciled could answer, Faith suggested with one of her saccharine smiles, “Everyone?”

That was so untrue. But I did hand-sign at my crewmates, I might know people.

Ash blinked once in acknowledgement. I want to see what she’s willing to tell us.

Slowly, reluctantly, Salia explained, “Beyond us and our allies…one imagines that the Church doesn’t have any friends in any of the Iruvian factions.” (That was true. I could attest to that. It might have been the one thing Elstera Avrathi and I agreed on.) “However, you need to understand that the Church is deeply entwined with the nobility and, through the nobility, the City Council. Relatively few people can oppose it without feeling the same kind of existential threat as us.”

That reminded Ash of a different concern: “What happens if we deal with Strangford and the Church decides to hunt the Reconciled? If they swing the entire weight of the Church towards your annihilation, will they succeed? Can they succeed?” Then he reconsidered and answered his own question: “I guess that’s the reason for speed.”

“Indeed. The impetuousness of the living is a double-edged sword,” Salia pronounced.

Silence filled the railcar as the living – or at least the two conventionally living – processed our past “impetuousness” and considered how we might have disrupted the Reconciled’s long-term plans.

After giving us time to repent of our rashness – which, given the composition of this crew, was probably a lost cause – Salia told us, “Well, as I said, Strangford won’t be back for another month. You have some time to recuperate and take care of your own affairs.” And make sure you come up with an airtight, watertight, fireproof plan, her tone warned, because you’re going to need it.

“Yes, speaking of that,” Ash began in his seemingly artless, bargaining voice, “the Hive is a problem as well. We’re hoping that we have done enough to provoke turmoil within its leadership, but – we simply can’t be sure.”

The ancient ghost had been at this business for a lot longer than any of us. “We do recognize that you will also need to deal with the Hive, yes,” Salia agreed, sounding blasé about the permanence – or, rather, impermanence – of human organizations.

Nyryx, who as a lady of negotiable affections must have interacted much more extensively and, er, personally with the Hive, wore an anxious expression that warred with elation over Djera Maha’s death.

“Or at least we need stave off their wrath,” Ash hinted. “Some help in that area would free up a lot of our resources.”

“We’ll do what we can,” the Reconciled leader promised at once.

“That would be most helpful.” Looking across the room at Nyryx, Ash switched topics: “You were saying that you had the fragment of the Gates of Death.”

Nyryx nodded, uncharacteristically tense, as if she were trying to impress her leader – or at least not embarrass herself. “It’s on its way. We just need to get it inside the lightning barrier.”

“We may want to find a target for practice. Shielding a ghost from detection by the Church could be a valuable tool. For us, of course – but also for you.”

The two ghosts exchanged a long, inscrutable look. At last, Nyryx warned, “That is…a hard request. I’ll see if anyone is willing.”

Satisfied that she would track down the appropriate sacrificial volunteer for his experiments, Ash turned back to Salia. “Then we should be about our work. What do you know of Strangford?”

“What do I know of Strangford? Well, he is a lot of things…also, very powerful,” mused the information broker, shuffling through her mental dossier for what was most relevant to a crew of assassins. (Presumably we didn’t need to know – or she didn’t think we needed to know – all the ins-and-outs of Imperial politics.) Coming to a decision, she started rattling off facts: “Thaddeus Strangford is an admiral of the Imperial Fleet. More or less an emeritus admiral at this point, but he served with great distinction in the Unity War. In his day, he was a renowned leviathan hunter captain, and he remains the leader of the Leviathan Hunter faction. He is a member of the City Council.”

Ash and I nodded along solemnly, memorizing the details. However, Faith – as the only Akorosian noble and native-born Doskvolian in the room – was probably also the only one who fully grasped all the implications.

Searching for an analogy to help the immigrants comprehend the breadth and depth of Admiral Strangford’s power base, Salia explained, “In short, he is everything that Lady Clave was trying to be. Except she was lesser nobility, and she was never going to succeed.”

That we could understand.

“The Strangford estate is in Whitecrown, but frequently when he comes to port, Lord Strangford doesn’t actually go there. He prefers to stay on the Nightbreaker, his family ship.” Now she hesitated, as she strayed from established facts into the realm of (very well-grounded) speculation. “Among his crew, there are definitely a lot of rumors that he has an unhealthy obsession with leviathans, but it probably goes deeper than that. I would say that he has an obsession with demons that dates back long before he…became one.”

Briefing complete, she came to a stop. While Ash was asking the appropriate follow-up questions, I reached out to my own fragment of demon.

Grandfather.

It was still very alert, very much present at the back of my mind. Yes, child?

Do you have any suggestions?

A fraction of a pause, as I suddenly realized that I was actually asking Ixis for advice, and Grandfather flashed through all the ways it could exploit this.

As to your methods, child, the sword replied in the same, level tone it always used, I leave it to your infinite creativity. I would, however, note that no one will believe this is an accident, especially in the wake of Djera Maha’s death, and if it looks like an Iruvian did this, there will be war. So I suggest you find a different scapegoat.

Only a demon could say that with such dispassion!

You mean the Skovlanders. Now it was my turn to deploy a neutral tone.

As I said, child, I leave the methods up to your infinite imagination.

The evasion only confirmed my suspicions. At Ixis and the Patriarch’s behest, Sigmund had spent the past half-year, maybe even longer, laying the groundwork for this ultimate scapegoating.

Sigmund.

Sigmund needed this intelligence now.

Ignoring everyone’s shock, I leaped up, snatched my cloak, and slammed out of the railcar.

“Isha?” Ash’s muffled voice called through the door.

Right.

I skidded to a halt on the loose gravel, spun around, and burst back into the common room. “All right. Let’s not waste his time. Let’s all go.”