Screaming her favored war god’s name, she tore off the nun robes and yanked swords from sheaths. But suddenly the ground shook and she briefly thought it was going to open up and swallow her into hell itself. Perhaps that was what these demon beasts did to those who challenged their favored queen.

But when Ragna spun around at a simultaneous clanging sound, she realized it was the queen and her ridiculously oversized hammer that had caused the disturbing jolt. She knew this because the queen swung the hammer again, lifting the enormous thing up and over her head and slamming it into the stone floor.

“That is enough!” the queen bellowed, now pointing that hammer at Ragna with just one hand. “You will not come to my territory and brandish your weapons without orders from me! Do I make myself clear?”

Ragna was about to tell her “no” when the room suddenly filled with centaurs. So many centaurs. Three of them Ragna knew for a fact she had left with her army but the rest she had never seen before. Bravely, they put their hideous half-human and half-horse bodies between the two armed and dangerous women.

Laila glared directly at Ragna, panting as if she’d run the entire way from the spot where Ragna had left them to this building.

“Really?” Laila demanded of Ragna. “You really thought this was a good idea?”

“I didn’t know she had demons as pets.”

The queen started to push her way through the crowd but a black-haired centaur grabbed her and pulled her back. “Keeley, no.”

“I don’t like her. And I like everyone!”

“She really does,” another centaur muttered.

“If you just let me humanely crush their skulls, we could be the best of friends,” Ragna gently reminded her.

That’s when the black-haired centaur was forced to pick the queen up. “Off we go,” he told her. “Far away from here.”

“Not until I smash her brains all over the floor.” The queen again pointed her hammer at Ragna. “You war monk cunt!”

“And a classy queen at that!” Ragna shot back.

That’s when the queen attempted to throw her big hammer across the room but Farlan wrestled it from her and held it against his chest. The black-haired centaur started to carry the queen out of the building, but he abruptly stopped and gawked across the empty space. And then Ragna saw them. Dwarves. Stonemason dwarves. Ragna had met a few in her time.

“What are you doing?” the centaur asked the leader of their group.

“Watching your beautiful queen work her hammer.” The dwarf grinned. “Think she’ll do it again? Maybe without her shirt this time?”

The centaur went up on his hind legs, the queen still held in one arm, but Cadell used his own horse body to force the other centaur out of the building and, laughing, the dwarves returned to their work.

Ragna stared at a still-seething Laila. “I don’t know why you’re glaring at me so, centaur. You had to know I was not going to react well to your queen’s demon pets.”

Laila opened her mouth as if to argue that point, but finally, she shook her head and admitted, “Yes. I did.”

CHAPTER 15

“You did that on purpose!” the centaur accused, climbing the giant boulder he’d been tossed over just a minute before.

Balla grabbed her assistant, Priska, and pulled her away before the war monk could brush against her. It was said in the Old Text that even touching a war monk could taint a temple virgin’s innocence.

“I did no such thing!” the war monk argued. “I was aiming for them; I just overthrew!”

“That’s such a lie! You’re such a liar!” The centaur wiped blood from the scrapes on his now human legs. “You could have broken something, you know? Throwing me like that.”

“Are you really that brittle?” She gestured to Balla and the rest of them. “And look! We stopped them from fighting without killing anyone. That’s exactly what we wanted.”

“ ‘That’s exactly what we wanted,’ ” he repeated in a mocking tone. “You flung me!” he accused. “Randomly into the universe!”

“I did no such—you’re just walking away?”

“I’m walking away from you!”

“Perhaps if you apologized for being such a heartless cow, War Monk, he’d be more inclined to listen to you.”

Slowly, the war monk looked at Balla. “You know, virgin . . . I don’t have to return to my brothers with all of you.”

* * *

Three groups had shown up to meet the representative of the Order of Righteous Valor and three groups had gotten into a nasty battle that almost destroyed a poor elk and Quinn.

The war priests, Father Aubin and Father Léandre. The head priestess of the temple virgins, Balla, and her assistant, Priska. And two divine assassins, Tadesse of the High Plains and Faraji of the Low Mountains.

The remaining members of these three groups had gone into hiding, leaving everything they had behind. Then, to ensure that Cyrus’s wizards and sorcerers could not follow those who’d managed to escape, their gods had closed all mystical doorways behind their most devoted. Meaning that all had to travel by horse and foot. It slowed things down painfully, but it was the only way to ensure they didn’t end up like the Order of Righteous Valor. With Cyrus’s legions burning that order’s monastery down to the ground and destroying at least half the brotherhood, it was clear that no one was safe. Absolutely no one.

Even worse, after stopping at a nearby town for a few supplies, Quinn had picked up rumors that Cyrus’s wizards had worked together to meld all the artifacts stolen from the monasteries and churches so that the combined power would ward off any magicks anyone attempted to use against Cyrus himself. If this rumor was true, a direct attack against Cyrus the Honored by any of the sects or even a combined attack by the sects might be impossible. At least not without knowing each and every artifact he had access to. And why in the world would Cyrus tell anyone that?

Although Gemma would never admit it, Ragna might have been right to send Gemma on this odious task. It would be good to have the assistance of other war sects. Gods knew they would need it.

At the moment, however, every order was reevaluating what its options now were. Some were relying on King Marius and Queen Beatrix to turn things around. But the groups standing with Gemma were relying on the remaining war monks and Queen Keeley.

Possibly.

“She’ll have to prove herself.”

Quinn winced at that, knowing Gemma would not take well to that particular phrasing.

And, of course . . . she didn’t.

“Queen Keeley doesn’t have to prove shit all to you, Balla. Or anyone for that matter.” She pointed at the entire group. “That goes for all of you.”

“We don’t know this Queen Keeley,” the war priest Aubin argued. “Who are her gods? Who does her soul belong to?”

“All you need to know is that she has a soul. Because I can promise you, Beatrix does not.”

“Beatrix doesn’t rule. Marius does.”

Gemma and the temple virgins laughed at that, insulting the priests. “What’s so funny, whore?”

“I think the women find your belief that Beatrix has no say in the rule of her lands a humorous one,” Tadesse said as he saddled his horse.

“Your Queen Keeley may have no man at her side to rule, but Marius does not need to let Beatrix do anything but raise his heirs.”

“Beatrix will never raise a child,” Gemma told them, “because she will have to kill it before it kills her.”

“How do you know so much about Marius’s queen?” Father Léandre asked.

“Because I’m her sister. And I’m Keeley’s sister. And trust me . . . you really want to stick with Keeley. If you prefer to go on breathing, I mean.”

Gemma put two fingers to her mouth and whistled. A moment later, Dagger galloped to her side. She mounted the horse and looked over the others.

“Your choice,” she said to them. “You can go to Beatrix, who will welcome you. And use you. Because that’s what my younger sister does. Or you can go to Keeley, who finds everyone interesting and can’t wait to help them. As for me, I’m tired. I’m mourning. And I don’t really give a fuck what you do. But if you do come with me, no fighting each other, no calling me a whore”—she said, glaring at the priests—“no avoiding physical contact with me like I’m carrying some fatal plague”—she glared at the temple virgins—“and no . . . wait . . . actually, you two have been perfect gentlemen”—she said to the divine assassins—“and thank you for that. But if either of you quiet-moving bastards tries to kill me in my sleep, I will cut your throats and bring you back from the dead. And all of you know what that means.”

Lip curling in disgust, Aubin took a step away from Gemma and her horse. “You . . . you’re a necromancer?”

“A good one. So I warn all of you. Fuck with me, my sister Keeley”—and that’s when Quinn caught her glancing at him—“or my friend Quinn of the Scarred Earth Clan at your peril. Understand me? Good!” she said before any of them actually answered.

Without another word, she rode off, leaving the others to follow or not as they saw fit.

Quinn stood there, fighting a smile when Scandal hit him in the back with his big horse head, urging him to follow.

“I’m going,” he told the big horse. “I’m going. But let her think I’m not for a minute. You know . . . let her know that I’m still expecting that apology.”

Scandal snorted at him and trotted past. He hated to say it, but as a centaur, he knew that was a mocking snort.

* * *

The remaining war monks of the Order of Righteous Valor made their new home outside the massive steel ramparts of Keeley’s queendom. She watched them build their forts from the ground up. They’d brought the wood with them and began using them to build forts as if they were throwing together simple tents.