I may need to break this story in two parts, because it’s really a damned novella. Hell, I’m worried it’s a damned book.
“I’m wondering about the decanus,” Liza admitted to Jan afterward. They were back in Jan’s office, but this time they were drinking broth, not bourbon. “What’s her background?”
“Aside from the alchemy?” Jan chuckled. “Decanus Karen Blank used to be a damned rebel and guerrilla. The records say she’s killed everybody from overseers to Legionnaires. Even bagged a mage apprentice, once.” She sipped more broth. “She came in from the heat when we took Gallstone, and hanged every son of a bitch that her rebels didn’t see to themselves during the fighting.”
“So can we trust her?”
Jan gave her a steady look, over her cup. “‘Trust’ is one of those words that has a weird meaning in my line of work, Tribune. We need alchemists, and we were killing the same people at the end. It’s everything that happened before the end that’s the problem.” Jan’s mood got visibly heavier. “If somebody’s still holding a grudge over what we all did back then, God knows I can’t blame them.”