The doors of the throne room were swung open, and Zizka strode in. She wore solemn black, edged with cardinal’s scarlet, a silent delegation of a dozen priests shuffling after her with heads bowed. If she was at all intimidated by the dazzling room and its majestic view, or by the awe-inspiring sight of Alex enthroned among the serpents in brooding silence, or even by the stairs she’d been forced to climb, she showed no hint of it.

‘Your Resplendence,’ she intoned, bowing ever so slightly. She glanced over the prizefighter’s bruises covering Alex’s face and neck, which she’d pointedly chosen not to powder, and didn’t so much as twitch. ‘I bring greetings from Her Holiness the Pope and regret that, as her legate and representative, I am not permitted to kneel.’

‘Daresay you’d grovel otherwise,’ grumbled Alex, under her breath.

‘And Brother Diaz.’ Zizka turned towards him, standing on the steps of the throne at Alex’s right hand. ‘I must congratulate you on—’

‘Father Diaz, in fact,’ he said.

Zizka was as unsurprised as she was unintimidated. She briefly took in the priest’s cassock he’d traded for his monk’s habit, the silver wheel he’d swapped for his wooden circle, and instantly worked it out. ‘It has pleased Her Resplendence to accept you into the Church of the East, then.’

‘As my personal chaplain and confessor,’ said Alex, struggling not to lose her temper too soon. ‘He’s proved his loyalty. And someone in my position can’t put a price on trust.’

Father Diaz was not a man troubled by ill temper. He was all smiles. ‘The Palace chapel’s a far humbler affair than my previous benefice, but the role comes with administrative responsibilities I feel are better suited to my talents, such as they are. I hope you will convey my thanks to Her Holiness for the opportunity, but I remember Your Eminence stating that she did not expect vicars of the Chapel of the Holy Expediency … to last long in the post?’

Cardinal Zizka did not bat an eyelid. ‘The Celestial Palace will feel much diminished having lost a theologian of such towering promise, but we will try to limp on without you. So. First of all, I bring a gift from Her Holiness …’ Zizka snapped her fingers at one of her priests, who shuffled forward, head bowed, to offer up a jewelled casket. ‘A relic of the blessed Saint Natalia, returned after centuries to her birthplace and yours. An expression of the Pope’s delight to see you restored to your proper place as Empress of Troy, and my own, of course—’

Alex couldn’t help tipping her head back to shout, ‘Ha!’ at the ceiling.

The priest froze nervously, casket trembling at arm’s length. Her mistress raised her brows by the slightest degree. ‘After the efforts I made on her behalf, can she doubt—’

‘Oh, there’s no doubt in my mind!’ And Alex snapped her own fingers. Father Diaz unfolded the letter to Duke Michael and stepped down from the dais to offer it to Zizka.

She glanced at him, and then at Alex. She took the letter. She gave it a shake. She impatiently waved forwards a different priest, who offered her a pair of lenses on a handle. Zizka held them to her face, tipping the letter until she had it in the right light, moving it back and forth until she had it at the right distance. She squinted at it for a moment. Her own seal and signature. The undeniable proof of her treachery. She lowered the lenses, handed them back to her priest, then waved her away. She held the paper out to Father Diaz between two fingers and gave a weary sigh.

‘Well, this is exactly why I told him to burn the letter,’ she said, calmly.

Alex stared. ‘That’s it?’ She hadn’t really known what she expected. Slimy denials that she could icily pull apart. Grovelling appeals for forgiveness that she could furiously reject. But this … passionless shrug of the shoulders? ‘You conspired with my uncle …’ The note of wounded upset in her own voice, as if conspiring with her uncle had been cheating at some child’s game, made her pent-up rage boil over. ‘To have me fucking killed!’ She ended up screaming at the very top of her voice, which gave her a stabbing pain through her ribs where Duke Michael had punched her, which only made her scream louder than ever.

Father Diaz flinched. The guards stirred unhappily. Zizka’s priests shuffled back. The one with the casket cringed, clutching it to her chest. But the cardinal herself seemed as impervious to anger as to shock or intimidation.

‘People try to kill me all the time,’ she said. ‘Provided they fail, I try not to take it personally.’

Alex stared. ‘You what?’

‘I fully understand your irritation—’

‘Try fury!’

‘—but I was faced with a choice. I have served five Holy Mothers as Head of the Earthly Curia. Such a role requires great sacrifices, painful compromises, necessary—’

‘Evils?’ snapped Alex.

‘One woman’s evil, another’s … expediency. My task is to walk in the shadows, so Her Holiness may stand in the light. As Empress, you may find yourself in the shadows more often than not. You will face sacrifices and compromises of your own, and on occasion may even be obliged to do what is expedient. That is the price of sitting in the big chair.’ Her eyes wandered over the Serpent Throne. ‘And there are no bigger chairs than this one. What is it that you want?’

‘An apology would be a start!’ snarled Alex, nursing her battered ribs.

‘I apologise. What else?’

Alex had never gone to see Gal the Purse without working out what she’d like to leave with. ‘I want the devils. I want them released from the Pope’s binding and given over to me.’

Now, finally, Zizka frowned. ‘Out of the question.’

‘You’re in no position to—’

‘I am nothing, but I stand before you as the representative of Her Holiness, and Her Holiness is the voice of God on earth.’ She didn’t shout, exactly, but she had some trick that made the last words almost painful on the ear. She wagged one finger at the ceiling as the echoes faded. ‘No matter how lofty your throne, you will yet find the Almighty above you. I understand your request. It even does you credit. They have been your protectors. They have seen you through the fire. But be under no illusions as to what they really are. Vigga Ullasdottr was an uncontrollable menace before she became a werewolf. How would you control her now? Perhaps we should ask Baptiste?’

There was an awkward silence. Alex realised she was picking at the bandages that covered her arm and made herself stop.

Brother Diaz cleared his throat. ‘We accept, perhaps, that Vigga is best held in the Celestial Palace—’

‘If you think the others pose lesser threats you are deluding yourselves. You have been fortunate to meet Baron Rikard in a good mood. His bad mood wiped out sizeable tracts of eastern Europe. And do not get me started on the demon-bargaining grave-robber.’ She snorted. ‘What would your subjects make of an Empress who entertains such companions?’

Alex swallowed. Sacrifices and compromises indeed. ‘Sunny, then—’

‘Are you sure? The elf has spent her whole life separated from her kind, tortured and tormented by ours. I, for one, find her hard to read, don’t you? Can you say, with absolute certainty, that if her kind were to find her, she would side with us against them? And make no mistake, her kind are coming. If elves are feared and hated in the West, they are the subjects of utter loathing and revulsion here, and with good reason. Keep her as your pet, and it is discovered, your subjects will likely burn the pair of you.’

Alex tried one more time. ‘The devils … the congregation … they’re not evil—’

‘I never said they were. Evil can be reasoned with. They are far more dangerous than that. They are each, in their way, children, but with the power of monsters, and they must return with me to the Holy City where they can be contained. Better for you, and the truth is … better for them. Sooner or later you would have to cage them yourself. Or be destroyed by them. And I think you are wise enough to know it.’ Alex had known it, if she was honest. She’d never left Gal the Purse with quite what she wanted, and Zizka was a negotiator in a very different league. ‘Jakob of Thorn is a different case, admittedly,’ she went on. ‘I expected to see him here …’

‘He fell into the sea,’ said Father Diaz.

‘Careless of him.’

‘From the top of this tower!’ growled Alex. ‘In flames. Saving my life. From your friend Duke Michael!’

‘How very … Jakob,’ said Zizka, not at all disturbed by that, either. ‘For such a grim fellow, he always did have a flair for the dramatic. He may well wash up, sooner or later. If so, he is welcome to join you. He has been convicted of no crime. But be advised, he may be the most dangerous of them all.’ Zizka took a step forwards. She was not a large woman, but she seemed somehow to fill that room. A black tower of blunt speaking in the midst of all the gaudy splendour. ‘May I speak honestly, Your Resplendence?’

‘Since you’ve admitted attempted murder, I wouldn’t say plain language is going make much difference, is it?’

‘When we were first introduced, I saw a desperate child, a thief and beggar, bereft of breeding, education, or character, entirely unsuited to a place as a chambermaid, let alone an Empress. Frankly, I suspected you would run away at the first opportunity or betray our cause for a crust of bread.’

Cardinal Zizka left a lengthy pause, as though inviting Alex to disagree. As though inviting anyone to disagree. No one disagreed.

She came forwards another step. ‘Duke Michael was a snake. But I know how to deal with snakes. Choosing him over you was a decision that made itself.’

Alex lifted her chin, the way Baron Rikard had taught her. ‘So what do you see now?’

‘Breeding can be faked. Education learned. What truly matters is character, and on that …’ Zizka considered Alex carefully. ‘It seems I may have rushed to judgement. I see a woman who, if she listens to wise voices, and makes wise choices, may very well grow into her role.’

‘Not to mention that the other candidates were …’ and Alex counted them off on her fingers. ‘Ripped apart by a werewolf, impaled with a sword on a sinking ship, dragged into a plague pit by a legion of the dead, frozen and shattered into a thousand pieces of melting meat, or plummeted in flames down Europe’s longest drop into the sea.’

There was a pause.

‘It seems the decision makes itself again,’ said Cardinal Zizka, coming forwards another pace. ‘I fear you will discover that, the more powerful one is, the more often one finds the decisions have made themselves. When we face the inevitable it behoves us, for the sake of those who rely on us for their safety and prosperity, to make the best of it.’

‘So you suggest I put my feelings aside for the common good?’

‘Your words. But, in my opinion, well-chosen ones.’ Zizka’s voice certainly betrayed no feeling as she took another pace, her toes almost touching the Serpent Throne’s lowest step. ‘Speaking frankly, still, your position remains precarious. You have few friends and many rivals, and your Empire is hedged in by enemies. And that is before we even consider the threat of the elves, and their mindless gods, and their terrible appetites, an enemy before whom even the bravest must tremble, against whom even the strongest must seek every ally. Only Her Holiness, leading a Europe united under the one true Church, can give you the support you need.’

‘Meaning her Earthly Curia, I take it?’

‘You show wisdom beyond your years.’

There was a pause. Alex glanced across at Father Diaz. He raised his brows, and gave the slightest nod. The way they’d got here was far from pleasing. But she knew they’d been heading there all along.

Thieves and Empresses. They all have to make the best of what they’re given.

She took a long breath and slumped back in her uncomfortable seat. ‘We’re prepared to consider a union between the Churches of East and West, and work towards an end to the great schism.’ Alex fixed Cardinal Zizka with her eye. ‘But it’s going to fucking cost you.’

There was a silence, as the two of them glared at one another. Then Cardinal Zizka gave the faintest smile. ‘God has deep pockets,’ she said.