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\epigraph{``Power is mostly a matter of making the right corpses at the
right time.''}{Dread Empress Malicia the First}



My words echoed in the now-emptied hall, and I had to hold back a wince
when I realized how confrontational I'd sounded. Matter-of-fact, maybe,
but there'd been a distinctly accusatory undertone to my voice I wished
I could take back -- not because I hadn't meant it, but because pressing
the green-eyed man standing in front of me seemed\ldots{}. ill-advised.
\emph{Too late to put the pot back together, though. Might as well go
all out.}

``So first you talk me into killing the guards,'' I noted. ``They had it
coming, sure, but would I have made that call if you weren't egging me
on? Not so sure. So now here I am, hands bloodied and not quite sure
where to go from there.''

I paused, expecting a falsely-offended denial. Black remained silent,
though, and his face was still as a pond on a windless night: anything
I'd see on there would be nothing more than a reflection of my own
expectations. The Knight glanced at Captain, who was looming by the
door, and offered her a half-nod. She left the room without a word,
closing the massive doors behind her. The sound of the wooden gates
closing shut in her wake was oddly sinister.

``You were getting to a point, I believe,'' Black prompted me, reaching
for a glass and pouring himself a drink.

I steeled my spine and pushed on. ``You might have done all that for the
shits and giggles -- I mean, I've heard weirder about villains -- but
you took me here tonight. Had me front and centre the whole time you
were playing with a man I'd cheerfully stab given half a chance. You've
got an angle at play, and it involves me agreeing to something.''

The pale-skinned man pulled back a bench and sat astride it with cool
elegance, gesturing for me to do the same. I could have circled the room
and sat across from him, but that would have been playing his game and
I'd done quite enough of that tonight. I kicked back the Governor's
padded seat and plopped myself onto it with the closest thing to
nonchalance I could muster with my heart beating in my ears like it
currently was. I was all too aware I was playing with fire at the
moment, but what else could I do? Some part of me felt backed into a
corner, and I'd ever only reacted one way to that: come out swinging,
sometimes yelling as loud as I could.

``You're right, to an extent,'' Black acknowledged, shooting me an
amused look at my choice of seat. ``But also wrong. What you so quaintly
call my ``pitch'' started the moment I came across you in that alley.''

I frowned. Now that I thought of it, what were the odds that he'd run
into me \emph{just} when I was stuck in a losing fight? The guards
hadn't seemed like they'd been sent there on purpose, but how hard could
it be to --

``I did not, in fact, arrange your little scuffle,'' he interrupted my
thoughts, tone flat.

I kept my face blank. ``You could be lying.''

``I am a splendid liar,'' he agreed pleasantly. ``But I don't bother
when the truth serves my purposes just as well. As for happening upon
you in that particular moment -- well, coincidences are hardly unusual
when one has a Role like mine.''

``To take the mantle of a Name is to embrace the strands of Fate,'' I
quoted quietly. It was rare for the House of Light preachers to have a
sermon on the subject of Roles, but compared to their usual fare it was
interesting enough that the sentence stuck out easily in my memory.
Black's eyes turned cold.

``Fate is the coward's way out, Catherine,'' he spat out. ``It is the
denial of personal responsibility. Every decision I have made was my own
choice, and all consequences that come from it are on my head.''

``Considering the kind of things you've done,'' I quietly said, ``I'm
not sure that's a selling point.''

The flash of anger I'd seen in him was gone as quickly as it had
appeared, replaced by the usual indifferent facade. \emph{Did I just see
what he actually looks like under the mask, or did I just happen to find
a delicate subject?} Neither option was particularly comforting.

``I don't expect you to love the Empire,'' he said. ``You've lived your
entire life under its boot, and that is not a comfortable place to be.''

``You don't get fair when you lose the war,'' I replied, echoing my
thoughts from yesterday.

He took a sip of wine, making a face at the taste. ``I had an
interesting conversation with Scribe, on our way to Laure. She believes
that the denarii you have stashed at the orphanage are so you can leave
the city and start over elsewhere.''

I wish I could say I was surprised he knew about the money, but given
that he'd addressed me by my name the first time we'd ever come to face
I really wasn't. He must have had someone in the orphanage -- it
wouldn't even be hard to accomplish, the Laure House for Tragically
Orphaned Girls was an Imperial institution to start with. Why, though,
was a better question. Why would the Black Knight pay any attention to
the goings-on in one the city's orphanages?

``And what was your guess?'' I asked instead.

``Scribe's one of the most intelligent women I've ever met,'' he mused,
``but she's never had a home, you see. She doesn't understand what it's
like, to see a place falling to pieces and need to fix it.''

I met his eyes, green to brown, and he smiled.

``You're saving up for tuition at the War College,'' Black spoke into
the empty room, his quiet voice somehow managing to fill the emptiness.
``You're nearly done, too -- a few more months and you'll have enough
put aside for both the semester and the trip there.''

A shiver went up my spine, and this time there were no Name tricks to
blame for it. Two days I'd known the man, and already he'd already
pegged what I wanted perfectly. My hand fell down to the dagger at my
hip, thumb rubbing the pommel almost without realizing it. The feeling
of the wrapped leather against my finger grounded me, a physical
sensation to chase the almost eerie atmosphere the scene had taken.

``That's the plan,'' I agreed, managing to keep my voice steady by the
grace of the Heavens. ``I was under the impression that the Legions take
Callowans too, now -- or was I wrong?''

``You are correct,'' he replied. ``Though few ever take the opportunity.
So why would you?''

I shrugged. ``I have a talent for scrapping. Seems like I'd be a good
fit.''

I wasn't good enough of a liar to get away with an outright lie, but a
half-truth might manage to pull through. There were other ways to get
higher up in the ranks of the Empire, after all, even for Callowans. I'd
chosen the Legions as my path up because, at the end of the day,
fighting was my talent I was most confident in. The green-eyed man
sighed.

``Catherine, I've done you the courtesy of not taking you for an
imbecile,'' he murmured. ``This conversation will go much more smoothly
if you afford me the same.''

Ah. So much for that, then. He seemed more irritated than angry at my
attempt -- I supposed lying wasn't much of a sin, by Praesi standards.

``Fine,'' I grunted. ``You want to hear the truth? I think the way the
Empire rules over Callow is fucked. At best you're brutally fair, at
worst you get types like Mazus who think it's their gods-given right to
do as much damage as possible. I don't give a shit whether we pay our
taxes to the Tower or not, but someone has to rein in the idiots when
they get vicious and the Legion is my best bet to get into that place.''

The man's lips stretched into that mean little number he'd pulled out on
the Governor earlier. \emph{Well, I had a good run. I'll try to give him
a scar to remember me by before my body gets dumped in the lake}, I
decided, fingers tightening around the knife.

``Most people sharing your opinion would try to become a hero,'' he said
instead of unsheathing his sword.

I snorted. ``And what, try to restore the Kingdom? We're fresh out of
royals and even if I managed to dig up some claimant getting him on the
throne would be a bloody mess. How many thousands would die, fighting
the Empire? More than it's worth. And let's not pretend you wouldn't
burn everything to the ground on your way out.'' I offered a grim smile
to the monster. ``I'd just be good sense, for you lot: make us a weaker
target from when you invade again, a few years down the line. Since
you're not doing us the favour of crumbling by yourselves, I'd better
make peace with the fact that the Empress is in charge -- she's not
going anywhere.''

The black-haired killer set down his cup and let out a low, almost lazy
laugh. I scowled at the sound: I hadn't been joking, and this wasn't
exactly a laughing matter.

``I was wrong,'' Black said, though he didn't sound like he was
admitting an error. ``You never could have become a hero. You lack the
mindset for it.''

I bared my teeth. ``And to think you gave me all that sweet talk about
`what separates people who have a Name from people who don't.' Way to
break my heart.''

``Allow me to make up for it, then,'' he replied. ``I'd like to offer
you a job.''

Ah, and there it was. The end game he'd been driving his cart to all
this time.

``I'm a little curious as to what you're actually going to offer,'' I
admitted. ``Training with the Blackguard? You're bound to have potential
recruits with less baggage.''

``I am,'' the Knight murmured, ``looking for a Squire.''

He didn't have to raise his voice to make the capitalized letter clear.
A Name. Shit. He was offering me a Name? Could he even \emph{do} that?

``I thought people with Names picked themselves,'' I croaked out, mouth
suddenly gone dry.

``They do, to an extent,'' he agreed amiably. ``But you have the
potential, and given the\ldots{} intertwined natures of that Role and
mine, I have a degree of influence over the nomination.''

I didn't think he was lying, not that I really believed I would have
been able to tell if he was. \emph{Well, at least it looks like I'm not
getting my throat slit. Not immediately, anyway. The evening's already
looking up.}

``And what do you want in exchange?'' I asked, trying to keep the
suspicion out of my voice.

The green-eyed man sighed. ``I'm not a trader hawking over merchandise,
Catherine,'' he replied. ``As Squire you would be my apprentice, in a
way. My responsibility. I wouldn't have made the offer if I didn't
believe you would be an asset.''

My mind spun and I closed my eyes, overwhelmed by the possibilities he'd
just opened. If I had a Name\ldots{} I'd bypass the Imperial hierarchy
entirely, just by saying yes. Squire wasn't exactly the most powerful of
the Names out there but it would lead to something else and until then
I'd be at the side of the second most powerful person in the Empire,
learning all I could. All the ins and outs of the court, all the war
tricks and connections that I wouldn't get from books or even the
instructors at the War College. \emph{I might be in a place to do some
good in a decade instead of three. Less, if I somehow distinguish
myself.}

``You want the answer now,'' I said, the tone half-question and
half-statement.

``One way or another, I'll need your decision before you leave this
room,'' he acknowledged.

Heavens forgive me, but I wanted this. Wanted it so very badly. That was
the part that was making me balk, though: I wasn't this lucky, never had
been. There must have been something in it for him I couldn't see yet,
some clause or trap I'd only grasp when it was too late.

``And if I say no?''

\emph{One girl found floating by the docks, missing a throat.} Wouldn't
be the first time someone dumped a body in the Silver Lake, wouldn't be
the last.

He shrugged. ``You return to the orphanage. I'll see to it that you're
put on the rolls at the College, with the first season's tuition paid.
I'll look forward to your service in the Legions.''

``And that's it? After all this, I'd still get to walk away clean?''

The Knight peered at his cup, swirling the dark wine inside with a
negligent flick of the wrist.

``Some of my predecessors would have thrown a threat in there to
motivate you,'' he admitted easily. ``Something along the lines of
`should you refuse me, I will burn alive everyone in the orphanage and
make you watch'.'' He smiled ruefully. ``Most of them were killed by
their Squire, as it happens. I will not repeat their mistake: I will not
deceive you, Catherine, or force your hand. What would be the point? I
already have followers and equals -- as well as a superior, if only the
one. What I want is an apprentice, and an unwilling one would be nothing
more than a burden.''

There'd been a sermon in the House of Light, once, about devils. The
sister preaching had told us that the real ones, the dangerous ones,
didn't bluster about stealing innocent souls and breaking their word.
They gave you exactly what you wanted and let you find your own way to
the Hells with it.

``You realize,'' I rasped out, ``that it wouldn't change anything. Even
with a Name I'll still want to change things.''

I hated the way it sounded like I wanted to accept his offer, true as it
was.

``Mine is not the side that concerns itself with how people that gain
power use it,'' Black replied. ``By all means, reform the Empire as much
as you want -- as much as you're able to, anyway. If you have the
ability to accomplish something, it is your right to do so.''

Damn me, damn him, damn this whole night and the one that came before
it. It all sounded so \emph{reasonable} to me, but that was how they
always got you wasn't it? Was it arrogance, to think that if I didn't
step up to fix Callow no one else would do it? Maybe I was just a
self-deluded little girl, playing a game whose rule I didn't yet
understand and pretending I knew what it was doing\emph{. But it doesn't
matter, does it?}The only question was whether I wanted this badly
enough to make a deal with the monster sipping at his wine, and I'd
known the answer to that before I ever set foot in the palace.
\emph{This is how it starts, isn't it? How villains are born. When you
decide that something is worth more than being Good.} My fingers
clenched and unclenched. I took a deep breath and let it out.

``So how does this work? Do I sign a contract in blood and summon a
demon?''

Black did not smile, and I was almost grateful about that -- if he'd
been smug about this, treated it like he'd beaten me, I didn't know what
I would have done.

``Normally,'' he said, ``a conscious decision is enough to begin the
process. By wanting to be the Squire, you reach for the Role and make
yourself closer to it.''

``Normally?'' I repeated.

``There's a shortcut, for those so inclined,'' he told me.

I met his eyes for the second time that night, unflinching. Even if this
was a mistake, I would own it. I owed myself that much.

``What do I need to do?''

He smiled. ``Try not to die.''

In the blink of an eye he was on his feet, moving quickly -- much too
quickly for someone wearing plate -- with his sword was in hand. I felt
the tip of it punch through my lung before I could so much as scream,
and the last thing I saw before the darkness took me was those eerie
green eyes looking down on me.

\begin{center}\rule{0.5\linewidth}{0.5pt}\end{center}

I opened my eyes under water.

My hands scrabbled for something solid to hang on to and sank into thick
mud, still managing to push up my torso enough that I wasn't swallowing
what looked murky swamp water. I spat out something green and vaguely
leafy, retching at the taste of scum water in my mouth. Before I could
try to get on my feet I was compelled to notice that there was
\emph{still a sword jutting out of my chest}.

``He stabbed me,'' I wheezed out in disbelief, my breath coming out
panicked. ``He just fucking stabbed me, out of nowhere. \emph{Who even
does that?}''

``Well,'' a woman's voice drawled lazily. ``You know. Villains.''

My eyes spun towards the source of the noise, skimming over a darkened
panorama of tall thin trees and greenery-covered waters -- it was hard
to tell, in the gloom, but I was fairly sure that the girl looking down
on me from jutting stump was\ldots{} well, me. Older, maybe, bearing a
long pink scar across the nose and wearing legionary armour but there
was no mistaking the face.

``Ugh,'' I groaned. ``This is going to be some kind of symbolic
soul-searching quest, isn't?''

``That implies your soul is a swamp,'' the girl pointed out mildly.
``Maybe you should get out more. You know, make some friends. Laugh once
every few moons.''

I scowled. ``I'm not taking advice about my social life from a dubious
Name vision.''

I tried to push myself up to a sitting position -- my fingers were
sinking deeper into the mud, and the rest of my body slowly following --
but the sharp pain I immediately felt served as a reminder that there
was \emph{still a sword jutting out of my chest.}

``Oh, right,'' the smug brat mused. ``Let me get that for you.''

She jumped down from the stump, wading into ankle-high water to get to
me. I was about to ask her to pull it out gently when I saw her look me
over and pensively raise a foot.

``Don't you dare,'' I warned her. ``Don't you godsdamned-''

She put down her boot on my breasts and closed her fingers around the
hilt of the sword, giving a brutal push with her knee that dunked my
head back into the scum water. I pushed myself out into a sitting
position a heartbeat later, retching out more of the disgusting green
stuff and really wishing I hadn't been opening my mouth to cuss her out
when she'd pushed me under.

``This is a pretty good sword,'' she observed. ``Goblin steel, better
than the standard issue stuff.''

``And that makes getting stabbed with it better \emph{why}?'' I heaved.

``If it were rusty you could have gotten lockjaw,'' the doppelganger
commented.

Not even a bell into joining up with the Empire and I was sitting
half-drowned in a metaphorical swamp, getting sassed by some sort of --
probably evil -- magical double. \emph{I'll note Black didn't mention
this part in the recruitment speech}, I thought, trying to force my
soaked hair into some semblance of order.

``Might be wise to get onto the stump,'' the other me said. ``I'm pretty
sure there's snakes in the water.''

``That just burning figures,'' I cursed, hastily getting on my feet and
slogging my way out of the danger -- the doppelganger offered a hand to
help me up, and I warily took it. I couldn't see a weapon on her, but I
didn't know what the rules of this place were yet. \emph{If there are
any.} Closing my eyes, I tried to think hard about a sunny meadow and
waited a moment.

``What are you doing, exactly?'' my voice interrupted me.

``Are we still in a swamp?'' I asked, keeping my eyes closed.

``Nah, it's some sort forest now.''

Hope welled up in my chest and I opened my eyes to the smirking rictus
of the doppelganger. Did I really look like that when I smirked? Huh. No
wonder people in the Pit went for my face so often.

``You lied,'' I acknowledged wearily, glaring at the smelly wetlands
still surrounding me.

``Shocker,'' the double replied dryly.

``Did I draw the short straw when they were assigning spirit guides?'' I
muttered.

The doppelganger looked kind of offended.

``I'm a great spirit guide,'' she contested. ``Ask me a question.''

I wiped my face with the back of my hand. ``What can I do to end this
quickly?''

Her perfectly plucked eyebrows rose. ``Ask better questions.''

I snatched the sword back out of her hands with a glower -- I didn't
have a scabbard to put it in, so I just rested the point on the stump
and awkwardly leaned on it.

``Right, not a guide then,'' I grunted. ``Are we going to have to fight?
Because I'm not really feeling in the mood for anything but a bath right
now.''

``I'm just here to point you to the next part, really,'' the
doppelganger said. ``See that hill in the distance?''

I took a look where she was pointing, vaguely making out an upwards
slope on what seemed to be solid ground. There was some sort of
structure I could glimpse, and I squinted to see it better. That was
when she socked me in the jaw. Back into the water I went, landing with
a splash and an aching mouth.

``Lied again,'' the double told me cheerfully when I resurfaced. ``We're
gonna fight.''

``I don't know what part of me you're supposed to represent,'' I spat
out, bringing up the sword I'd somehow managed to remain clutching,
``but I'm going to drown you.''

``That's the spirit,'' she grinned, rolling her shoulders. ``See what I
did there? Spirit. It's funny because I'm a-''

I took a swipe at her ankles, hoping she'd give me the satisfaction of
being a bleeder, but she leapt onto another stump.

``In the interest of full disclosure,'' the double continued, ``I was
also lying about the snakes. I know, I have a problem. You have one too,
though, right behind you.''

My first instinct was to snarl that I wasn't going to fall for that
twice, but after a heartbeat instead I stabbed blindly behind me -- the
blade hacked into flesh and I spun to push more weight into it, eyes
widening in surprise. The decomposing corpse that had been about to lay
a hand on my shoulder fell into the water still twitching, leathery skin
pulled taut around rotting teeth.

``I have a zombie in my soul,'' I forced myself to acknowledge, voice
sounding faint to my own ears. ``Gods, maybe I \emph{do} need to make
some friends.''

``So,'' the doppelganger called out from the tall branch she'd managed
to hoist herself onto while I wasn't looking. ``Three guesses as to
whether that's the last one and the first two don't count.''

I glared at her. ``The only upside to this is that if you rise from the
dead after I'm done with you I'll get to off you twice,'' I replied
through gritted teeth.

``Meh,'' she shrugged. ``You're all talk. If you weren't, you would have
stabbed Mazus in his wretched throat -- we both know the Knight wouldn't
have stopped you.''

``Well,'' I mused as I cast a wary eye out for anything else coming out
of the waters, ``at least now I'm sure you're not the Good twin.''

``Nah, prissy bitch doesn't come down here,'' the girl replied. ``Says
she doesn't like the smell.''

Gods Above, there really were two of them. \emph{This just keeps on
getting better.} Nothing else seemed to be crawling out from under the
surface, so I moved back towards the stump to get better footing. I
didn't like the idea of staying in the mulch either: it seemed right up
her alley to have been lying about having lied about the snakes.
Hopefully I wouldn't have to follow her into the branches -- I wasn't
sure what path up she'd taken, and I'd never been great at climbing. Not
like there were a lot of trees in Laure.

``So that's your trouble with me?'' I prompted. ``Not enough murdering
people at the dinner table?''

She crouched on the branch, grinning down with pearly white teeth.

``My issue is that you're a bleeding heart, Cathy,'' she drawled.
``You've got all those pretty notions about how things should be, but
when the hard choices are gonna come you'll \emph{flinch}. You have a
chance to get some real change going but you're going to end up choking
on that self-righteousness.'' She waved her hand theatrically. ``That's
gonna end up with us \emph{actually} bleeding from the heart, and I just
can't have that.''

``So I should just go around stabbing everyone who does things I don't
agree with?'' I replied. ``That sounds like a winning plan.''

``If you \emph{had} a winning plan, I wouldn't mind,'' the doppelganger
smiled mirthlessly. ``But you're not trying to win. You're trying to be
right.''

In a single, smooth movement she leapt from the branch and barrelled
right into me. I was taken by surprised enough that I couldn't bring up
the sword in time. \emph{Shit.} We both splashed into the water -- which
had happened since the beginning of this little jaunt too often for my
tastes already -- while clawing at each other, trying to make sure we
ended up on top. She managed to edge me out, but she left her face open
so I knocked her teeth it with the sword's pommel -- she pushed me away,
crawling up to her feet as I did the same.

``Now that's more like it,'' she laughed, spitting out a fat gob of
blood from the corner of her lip. ``Swing that thing like you mean it.''

``You're insane,'' I growled. ``There's no point to this.''

``There's no point to any of it,'' she smiled. She flicked her wrist
elegantly, producing a knife from somewhere in her sleeve. \emph{I know
that knife.} I'd owned it for less than two days, and already I would
have recognized it anywhere: the first time I'd used it wasn't something
I'd ever forget.

``There's only one choice in life, Squire,'' my doppelganger said with a
flash of teeth. ``You can be someone who makes things happen, or someone
things happen to. Let's find out which you are, shall we?''

She came at me swinging. There was nothing practiced or elegant about --
she was just a girl with a sharp edge trying to claw out my throat. I
stepped around her, letting her momentum carry her through as I swiped
at her leg with the side of the blade. Too awkwardly placed: it bounced
off the steel greaves. I'd never been taught how to use a sword, and it
showed.

``Put your back into it, would you?'' the double chided me. ``Otherwise
we'll be at this all night.''

I ground my teeth, keeping a lid on my temper. I'd taunted people into
making stupid mistakes often enough to recognize when someone was trying
to do the same to me. The doppelganger leaned it with a quick half-step,
blade headed straight from my throat, but the strike was too wild. Too
much strength into it, not enough control: she was wasting movements. My
fist impacted with her chin and she rocked back, but she slapped away
the side of my sword when I tried to bring it to bear. The sharp edge
bit into the leather gloves she wore, drawing a thin trickle of blood as
she stepped back and started circling around me. ``First blood to me,''
I spoke quietly.

She laughed. ``Last blood's the only one that matters,'' she replied,
and rushed forward again.

I was ready for her, this time: I caught her wrist as it came down for
my neck, fingers digging painfully into the cold wet mail as I struggled
to hold it back. She tried to headbutt me but I lowered my face in time
and she rammed her forehead into the top of my head instead. The double
was the one who recoiled in pain, and that was the opening I needed --
awkwardly, using the sword more like an oversized needle than a weapon,
I rammed the point into her jugular. Blood sprayed out and she fell to
her knees, gasping. I looked down into her eyes coldly.

``My turn with the speeches,'' I ground out. ``You lack focus. You lack
discipline. You're just lashing out at everything: all you can do is
break things until you end up broken too.''

She gurgled out a laugh, a bloody smile stretching out her lips.

``What are you laughing at?'' I asked.

``You didn't flinch,'' she rasped.

She dropped all the way into the water, face-first, and I had to flip
her over to wrench out the blade. Threads of red were already appearing
in the murk but I took a moment to catch my breath, clutching the sword.
My free hand came up to wipe the sweat off my brow, though there was no
salvaging the shirt and trousers that had been through the muck thrice.
I was not looking forward to the walk to the hill, but at least I
wouldn't be hounded all the way there. The sound of parted waters was
heard from up ahead as a silhouette emerged from the water, shambling
upright. Then another. Then another.

``\emph{Come on},'' I complained. ``I didn't even say it out loud!''