“Then I won’t be the High Priest,” Craven said impatiently. “It’s just a title, after all. A name. It’s all meaningless, the petty rivalries, the power plays. Oh, how I lost myself to it, back when my eyes were shut and my mind was closed. But now, I see. The way is clear. The Death Bringer will unite us, my friend. If you cannot believe in me, at least believe in her.”

“She killed thirty-eight of us.”

“For which she has just apologised.”

“She’s unstable.”

“She’s adjusting.”

“She’s a mental case. And what about her power? One moment she can barely lift her head, the next she’s flinging people around like they’re leaves in the wind. How can she be expected to usher in the Passage if she can’t control how long she’ll be able to stand upright?”

“I have faith.”

“I don’t.”

“That is… troubling.”

“No, it’s reasonable.”

“Melancholia is the Death Bringer. Yes, it’s not like we thought it would be. It’s not as clean. But it’s real, and it’s happening. She has the power to do this.”

“She had better. If she doesn’t, if she fails, we’ll never get another chance. They know what we want now – they know what we’re after. If we continue with this, and she fails, we’ll be hunted down across the world. They’ll destroy our Temples, our teachings, everything. She’d better be the one, Craven.”

“She is.”

“Because if she isn’t, we should kill her now and see what we can salvage.”

Craven’s eyes widened. “What?”

“If we stop, now, immediately, we can take care of this. We can take the blame – me, you, Melancholia, the others. We can take the punishment. But our brothers and sisters around the world will be left alone, left to find the one true Death Bringer.”

“Melancholia is the one true Death Bringer!”

“No, she’s the one you made.”

Craven fell silent.

“This is our last chance. If there is any doubt about her, we should sacrifice ourselves for the greater good.”

“There is no doubt in my mind that she can do it.”

“Well, there’s plenty of doubt in mine.”

“Our enemies are closing in,” Craven said angrily. “We need to stop them. We need to strike back. Instead, we are at each other’s throats once again, when we can least afford it.” He sighed, and turned to the window. “Leave me now. I am tired.”