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565 pages, Hardcover
First published May 6, 2025
‘No matter how you fight, you can’t beat time. It lays low every empire, topples every tyrant.’
‘That’s how it always begins. The just cause. The good fight. Each time, I tell myself it will be different. But for me, as the fight wears on, the good wears off. Before I know it . . . I’ve made myself a devil. That’s why I swore to serve her Holiness. That’s why I have to keep my oath.’ And with the bitter regret of a drunk pushing away the bottle, he let his lingering fingertips slip from the gold-wired hilt.’
“Everyone’s scared all the time. That’s the thing you’ve got to tell yourself. They might be scared of different things to you. Things that don’t scare you a bit. Like heights, or failure, or wanting to piss then not being able to go. But everyone’s scared of something. And even if they’re not, it helps to think they are. The brave ones are just good at pretending, and pretending’s just lying by another name, and when it came to lying, Alex was up there with the best. Ask anyone.”
‘The world’s a bitter place… We’ve got to grasp at any joy we can.’
“They laughed together. The world was, it hardly needed to be said, divided into enemies and those that could be made use of. The Baron might well have been the most dangerous monster in this monstrous company, but if Balthazar had learned one thing during his storied career in the magical sciences, it is that the worst monsters often make the best allies.”
‘I’ve spent a lifetime at war… and I can tell you only this. Nine times out of ten there’s more to be won from peace.’
‘In my youth I dreamed one man could tip the balance of history… Time has taught me that when one does, it can tip the wrong way as easily as the right.’
‘When I was young… I thought I was working towards something. Building to last. Some perfect state of things. Of the world. Of myself.’ He gently shifted one leg under her, then the other. ‘You get to my age, you realise nothing lasts forever. No love, no hate, no war, no peace. If a thing hasn’t ended . . . you haven’t waited long enough.’
‘Show me a man who regrets nothing and I’ll show you a man who’s achieved nothing.’


“Steal some bastard’s purse you’re a thief, steal a whole town you’re a hero.”










A set of extremely dangerous fools, entirely incapable of working together, undertaking a journey of a thousand miles or more with the utterly impossible aim of installing that sulking milksop on the Serpent Throne of Troy?
It appeared that the plans [...] to bring the Empire of the East back into the loving embrace of the Church were about to—quiet literally—go up in flames.
"My twat has done more good for the world than any saint I know of!" Vigga waggled her eyebrows at Brother Diaz.
The humiliation! That he, Balthazar Sham Ivam Draxi, luminary of the necromantic community, should find himself wedged into this procession of imbecility, this unholy trudge from nowhere to nowhere, this merry march to physical discomfort, spiritual disappointment, and intellectual impoverishment.
Next breath, next step, next meal, next fuck. Get what you can from the moments then let 'em go.

Vomit fountained from his mouth, his nose, more than likely his ears, sprayed the wall, spattered hissing and bubbling on the still-glowing rings, and left a long trail of splats and dashes all the way across the old floorboards to his very toes.
"It amazing me how many men willingly choose to bed a werewolf."
"Well, most men will bed anything, and I don't usually lead with the werewolf thing."
"What do you lead with?" asked Alex.
Vigga slid one foot across the deck until her legs were wide open, displaying the slightly stained crotch of her trousers.
"That," she said.
The Saviour had definitely tended against killing, and she heard priests talk about murder like it was really the worst, but when she finally read the scriptures herself, she found God couldn't go a page without smiting the shit out of someone.
...after a few stabs she got bored of being where the spear wasn't so plucked it from his hand and ripped his chest open with her jaws and snuffled and licked at the slop inside but it was unsatisfactory.

"Got something for you, under here." From the way the blanket shifted there could be no doubt she was opening her legs.
"Oh God," he whispered, swallowing as he looked towards the stained glass.
Vigga waited a moment longer then, clearly losing patience, nodded downwards. "It's my twat."