“Richard doesn’t give a fuck,” Tobruk said. “I can do whatever I want to you. Richard told you all what it meant to be a Dark mage. None of you listened. I’m going to be Richard’s Chosen and if you ever talk back to me again”—Tobruk’s grin faded—“I’m going to fuck you up so bad you’ll be begging me to stop. You know what I did to Catherine? That was just fun. You . . .” Tobruk waved a finger. “You, it’s personal.” He looked at Rachel for a moment longer, his eyes burning into her, and then, like a mask snapping back, his grin returned. “Don’t go anywhere!” Tobruk turned and walked out.

Rachel was left alone in the room, staring after Tobruk. As the door swung closed behind him she curled up and hugged herself, shivering. She stayed like that for a long time before slowly picking herself up and starting towards the door.

* * *

The shift was faster this time, only a flicker, and when it steadied I was standing in a long, dimly lit stone room, with an archway at either end leading into darkness. Murals were carved into the stone: scenes of battles and quests, mages and their servants fighting strange and inhuman creatures, with lettering in odd runic script. To the side was something that looked like an altar, and four statues of armoured men stood in the corners, each carrying tall spears and wide round shields. I remembered this place; it had been the entryway to the lower basements. Rachel had once asked Richard what the murals meant and he’d told her it had been built by the mansion’s creators. We’d taken to calling it the chapel, but we’d avoided spending any time there. There was something eerie about the place, and the longer you stayed the more uncomfortable you got. The archway at one end led up to the ground floor, where I’d set off the trap to summon the nocturne. The archway on the other side led to the deeper basements and to the cells.

Rachel was sitting in the middle of the room. She was wearing the same clothes she’d had on for the confrontation with Tobruk and she was still shivering; the stone was unheated and cold. Apart from her the room was empty, and as I looked at her I felt an unexpected flash of pity. She looked lost and alone.

Footsteps echoed from the stairs, and Rachel was on her feet in an instant. Blue light flashed up around her hands as she summoned her shield and faced the archway, back slightly hunched. There was a flicker in the darkness, the glow of a fire spell. I saw Rachel’s muscles go tense and knew she was ready to fight or flee.