withdrew from Ren. She put her arms around her father’s neck and held tightly, small shoulders shaking. Ren’s throat tightened with tears, and it surprised her. These were humans.
“HURRY UP!” roared Lukasz.
Ren still had the cloth in her mouth. Now she dropped it on the ground, a bright square against the bloodstained earth.
“As the queen of this forest, I free you of this world,” she whispered, eyes burning as she spoke. “I baptize you, child. You are free. Go home.”
The smell of blood and rot receded around her and the shrieks seemed to melt into silence. Ren watched the little girl and her father cry. Then, as if in some terrible nightmare, the death-white child faltered and dissolved. Jakub was alone. Still on his knees, he bent forward until his forehead pressed into the silver-stained earth. Ren knew, without seeing his expression, that he was weeping.
“They’re still coming!” shouted Lukasz, tearing her away.
Ren got back to her feet. While the rest of them brought down more monsters, Ren spoke over the screams. Fury filled her voice.
“I am the queen,” she said.
A thousand nawia on every side, a thousand silvery monsters, and they put down their claws. Ren hoped she didn’t look as shocked as she felt. The nawia closed their lips over needle teeth. They turned their silent faces toward her. Listening, she thought. They are listening to me.
She wasn’t sure how to continue. Still in a frenzy, Koszmar swung once more and a last nav collapsed in spattering silver.
Ren didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know what she was doing. She only knew this one word, and she hoped it would be enough.
They were mysterious creatures, these humans.
“Go,” she said shakily. “Your time here is finished. I . . . I baptize you.”
The woods went silent. Lukasz, breathing hard, lowered the sword. Koszmar, trembling, dropped the saber. It clanged against some armor. Ren was overwhelmed by the smell of blood. It almost made her gag.
Some nawia looked upward. Their faces grew shorter and their eyes grew smaller, and suddenly they were as human as the scarred man’s daughter.
Others remained, still looking like demons from the depths of her nightmares, but they were silent also. And then, almost as one creature, they seemed to fade away, growing more smoky than solid. A gust of wind blew across the trees, and in a swirl of white smoke, they were gone.
“What did you do?” breathed Koszmar, behind her.
They were alone in a forest of corpses, and it seemed impossible that light had ever touched this place at all.
Lukasz was struggling to catch his breath. He still had one hand clamped over his shoulder. Blood bubbled between his fingers, and under his jacket, his shirt was plastered to his skin. Ren wasn’t sure if he noticed. He was looking at her with something near wonder.
“It worked,” he breathed. “The baptism. You . . . you are a queen.”
“Of course I am the queen,” returned Ren coolly. “I would not lie.”
Koszmar’s expression changed, too. He looked at Ren with an unreadable, entirely new expression. Lukasz did not respond. He stuck his sword, point first, into the earth. He took his hand away from the wound and examined his blood-slick glove. Then, looking faintly surprised, he collapsed.
Koszmar turned sharply. Ren was faster. Lukasz’s glistening black gloves curled like claws over his chest.
“I am not going to die here,” he said thickly.
Koszmar crouched beside them. He lifted back the shirt and coat. They peeled away with thick strings of congealing blood, and Lukasz moaned. Five deep cuts scored his skin over his neck and shoulder, laid open to the gleaming white bone. In the wreckage, the silver cross shone jewel-red.
“Oh,” Koszmar was murmuring. “Oh my . . .”
Ren glanced at him. He was looking at Lukasz speculatively, biting his lip. There was nawia blood in his hair; it only brought out the silver in his eyes.
“Aren’t you going to do anything?” she demanded.
“Honestly,” he murmured, “I don’t think I need to.”
Ren was about to snap back at him. But then she saw it.
“But how . . . ?” she breathed.
“I know,” replied the blond soldier, in a voice filled with wonder. “It’s beautiful.”
A few inches from where Koszmar’s red fingers held back the dripping coat, the impossible was happening. The cuts had begun to narrow. Flesh covered bone. Skin, shimmering wetly with red and a silvery substance, knitted together. Ren swallowed, and Lukasz moaned, and then she was staring at an unwounded, unscarred shoulder, coated