'You don't like to make things easy, do you?' muttered Vitari.

'Why should they be?' he snapped. 'You can console yourself with the thought that this conversation will most likely be our last.'

'Then why even come? Why not run?'

Glokta snorted. 'In case you hadn't noticed, I am an exceptionally poor runner. That and I'm curious.' Curious to know why his Eminence didn't leave me there to rot along with all the rest.

'Your curiosity might be the death of you.'

'If the Arch Lector wants me dead, limping the other way will do me little good. I'd rather take it standing up.' He winced at a sudden spasm through his leg. 'Or maybe sitting down. Either way, face to face, with my eyes open.'

'Your choice, I suppose.'

'That's right.' My last one.

They came into Sult's ante-room. He had to admit to being somewhat surprised to have come this far. He had been expecting every black-masked Practical they had passed in the building to seize hold of him. He had been expecting every black-clothed Inquisitor to point and scream for his immediate arrest. And yet here I am again. The heavy desk, the heavy chairs, the two towering Practicals flanking the heavy doors, were all the same.

'I am—'

'Superior Glokta, of course.' The Arch Lector's secretary bowed his head respectfully. 'You may go in at once. His Eminence is expecting you.' Light spilled out of the Arch Lector's office and into the narrow chamber.

'I'll wait here.' Vitari slid into one of the chairs and swung her damp boots up on an other.

'Don't bother waiting too long.' My last words, perhaps? Glokta cursed inwardly as he shuffled towards the doorway. I really should have thought of something more memorable. He paused for just a moment at the threshold, took a deep breath, and hobbled through.

The same airy, round room. The same dark furniture, the same dark pictures on the bright walls, the same great window with the same view of the University, and the House of the Maker beyond. No assassins loitering under the table, no axemen waiting behind the door. Only Sult himself, sitting at his desk with a pen in hand, the nib scratching calmly and evenly across some papers spread out before him.

'Superior Glokta!' Sult started up and swept gracefully across the polished floor towards him, white coat flapping. 'I'm so glad you are safely returned!' The Arch Lector gave every impression of being pleased to see him, and Glokta frowned. He had been prepared for almost anything but this.