And so he haunted her, keeping his eyes hidden within the wreaths of smoke drifting around her as she sat, unmoving apart from the steady rise and fall of the water-pipe’s mouthpiece in one hand and the swell and ebb of her chest. So many things were possible now. He could drift unseen through the Citadel, wandering its corridors, sliding beneath doors and into chambers that had once been forbidden him. His body, small as it was, could of course achieve none of this. So he had left it behind, in the cell where he slept, with Ribs lying against the door.

He rode the currents of Kurald Galain, but for all their enticements, from the fascinating patterns and sly invitations of the Terondai to the red tears of Mother Dark’s eyes – unable to look away in the palms of the priest, Endest Silann – Orfantal found himself drawn back to the High Priestess, who still sat alone in her chamber, gaze heavy upon the slightly open door, as if awaiting someone.

But for the moment, none in the Citadel had thought to seek her out, despite the two strangers who had unlocked the pattern of passage in the Terondai – one of its many wondrous gifts – and disappeared from sight. The discovery of a murdered guard in the corridor leading to the Chamber of Night had sent alarm winging among the Houseblades and their officers, only to somehow deftly avoid – by choice or chance – the many acolytes of the priesthood.

She sat unknowing, then, her right leg folded over the left, like a queen upon a throne.

Distant agitations in the sorcerous darkness brushed Orfantal’s awareness, and a moment’s focus made out, in his mind’s eye, the figures of Silchas Ruin, Captain Kellaras, and a woman Houseblade, hurrying towards the Chamber of Night.

Orfantal hesitated. Seeing too much made things complicated all over again. His spirit, wandering in this way, possessed no voice, and what it heard was thin and muted, as if every sound came through walls. He could draw as close as he liked to Emral Lanear, but make nothing known of his presence.

That was probably just as well. Some things had a way of frightening people. Even so, he groped for a means of warning her that things were happening, and that blood had been spilled outside the Chamber of Night.

So intent was his focus upon her now, he was caught unawares by the sudden arrival of Endest Silann.

But she looked up and seemed to sag in her throne. ‘If only we could all find someone else to carry our anguish,’ she said.

The priest, looking ashen and drained, tilted his head slightly. ‘Or send it out and away in white streams of smoke.’

‘If she regrets her lack of success,’ Lanear replied, ‘at last we find common ground.’

‘There has been violence in the Chamber of Night.’

The High Priestess drew hard on the mouthpiece, then spoke with held breath. ‘The realm beyond those doors is a fraught place.’