The cellar was filled with glorious darkness. The caves were beneath them, and provided a last-resort exit in the unlikely event of things going disastrously wrong. There was a secret door somewhere in here, he knew, but it was so well disguised it would take a less intelligent man weeks to find. But Craven had all the angles covered. He took a stone from his robes, gave it to Adrienna Shade.

“Walk with this held close to the ground,” he instructed her. “When it glows blue, tell me.”

“Yes, Your Eminence,” she said, and did as she was told.

Amid the junk that had been collected in the cellar, there was an old table upon which Melancholia sat. She closed her eyes and breathed, preparing herself for what was to come. Craven considered it best to leave her alone. He turned to find Solus looking at him.

“Your Eminence?” Solus said, mocking. “Is that how we address you now? You’re a Cleric, Vandameer. The same as me.”

“Be careful, Cleric Solus,” Craven said. “The last man to question me like you do was Solomon Wreath, who then tried to assassinate me. If you continue to act like him, I might start to fear for my life. And then the White Cleaver would be forced into action.”

At the mention of the Cleaver, Solus’s face went slack. To cover his fear, he nodded to Shade. “And what do you have her doing? Walking around with a stone?”

“Below us,” Craven said patiently, “the zombies are standing at the secret door, having made their way through the caves. Once the stone comes into close proximity with its twin, in the possession of the zombies, it will glow. In the case of an emergency, therefore, we know where to blast through in order to make our escape.”

“It’s still reckless,” Solus said, but speaking without gusto. “If they find us here, all our plans will be for nought.”

“No matter where the Death Bringer is when she initiates the Passage,” said Craven, “the Sanctuary forces will converge on her. They may even stop her before the Passage is complete. We can’t risk that. All my plans have been born out of necessity. We needed someone to tip them off as to our whereabouts, so Melancholia told Wreath he was in danger. We needed to make them think Melancholia was dead, so I killed her reflection before any seasoned sorcerer could get a good look at her. We need to take out our enemies before the Passage begins, so we come to them, and allow the Death Bringer to use her wonderful new talents to snatch their lives away. No fighting. No violence. No chance of defeat. I have thought of everything, Cleric Solus. All you need to do is trust me. So I ask – do you trust me?”

The White Cleaver stepped beside Craven, and Solus swallowed thickly.

“I trust you,” he said.

“You trust me…?”