When the stars go out? When the sky falls in? When I run a mile with a smile on my face? 'If I had all the answers I'd hardly have joined the Inquisition!' snapped Glokta. 'Perhaps you should pray for divine help. A mighty wave to wash the Gurkish away would suit nicely. Who was it told me that miracles happen?'

Kahdia nodded slowly. 'Perhaps we should both pray. I fear there is more chance of aid from my god than your masters.' Another stretcher was carried past, a squealing Styrian stretched out on it with an arrow in his stomach. 'I must go.' Kahdia swept away and the curtain dropped back behind him.

Glokta frowned at it. And so the doubts begin. The Gurkish slowly tighten their grip on the city. Our doom draws nearer, and every man sees it. A strange thing, death. Far away, you can laugh at it, but as it comes closer it looks worse and worse. Close enough to touch, and no one laughs. Dagoska is full of fear, and the doubts can only grow. Sooner or later someone will try to betray the city to the Gurkish, if only to save their lives, or the lives of those they love. They might well begin by disposing of the troublesome Superior who set this madness in motion…

He felt a sudden touch on his shoulder and he caught his breath and spun round. His leg buckled and he stumbled back against a pillar, almost treading on a gasping native with bandages across his face. Vitari was standing behind him, frowning. 'Damn it!' Glokta bit on his lip with his remaining teeth against a searing spasm in his leg. 'Didn't anyone ever teach you not to sneak up on people?'

'They taught me the opposite. I need to talk to you.'

'Then talk. Just don't touch me again.'

She eyed the wounded. 'Not here. Alone.'

'Oh, come now. What can you have to say to me that you can't say in front of a room full of dying heroes?'

'You'll find out when we get outside.'

A chain around the throat, nice and tight, courtesy of his Eminence? Or merely some chat about the weather? Glokta felt himself smiling. I can hardly wait to find out. He held one hand up to Frost and the albino faded back into the shadows, then he limped after Vitari, threading their way through the groaning casualties and out through the door at the back, into the open air. The sharp smell of sweat swapped for the sharp smell of burning, and something else…