She stared at him from across the corridor. There were people in the main room and they had turned in alarm at this confrontation, but her eyes were for her friend and none other. ‘Kagamandra, please. The highborn will do nothing. Not yet. None of them – not even Anomander. They need to summon the Hust Legion. And the Wardens. They need to make an alliance with Sheccanto and Skelenal—’

His eyes widened. ‘What?’

‘Listen. A rival to Mother Dark was born in the room we just left.’

‘I would not listen. I stoppered my ears! I will not!’

Sharenas shook her head. ‘Not Syntara, friend. She was but a mahybe, set among us Tiste by the Azathanai. There is no hope of any of us gleaning the purpose of that, unless it was to see Kurald Galain destroyed. We have seen the beginning, but cannot know the end.’

‘There will be war!’ His shout bounced from the walls, echoed fierce into the Great Hall.

‘I am not blind, Kagamandra. But nor am I helpless, and neither are you!’

‘I will not fight!’

The door to the Campaign Room slammed open further up the corridor and both turned. A moment later, Urusander appeared.

His skin was white as alabaster, his once-grey hair shot through with threads of gold.

‘Here then,’ Sharenas said in a low voice, ‘comes her rival.’

Urusander strode past her and stood before Kagamandra Tulas, who stared at Urusander as if he had come face to face with a ghost, a singular apparition bearing with it a thousand losses exhumed, shaken clean, proffered like trophies. His back pushed harder against the wall when Urusander raised a hand, as if to touch him. A moment later the hand fell back.

‘Old friend,’ said Urusander. ‘I beg you, ride to them. Tell them that I was not behind this. Tell them that I will hunt down these murderers. Tell them the Legion is at their disposal.’

But Kagamandra shook his head. ‘I will not, sir. I go to find my betrothed. I will take her from Kurald Galain. As far away as we can ride. If need be, I will bind her with ropes, a gag about her mouth, a sack for a hood. Sir, leave me alone.’

There were tears on Urusander’s cheeks. He stepped back, his gaze dropping. ‘Forgive me,’ he whispered.

‘I will go,’ said Sharenas.

The High Priestess was approaching, and behind her in the corridor walked Serap, Yeld, and Haradegar. With their pallid visages, they made an uncanny procession. Behind them all, white light spilled and roiled like smoke, drawing closer.

‘I will go,’ Sharenas said a second time, pushing herself forward. She reached out and grasped Kagamandra’s sleeve, pulling him with her as she set out for the front door.

‘Yes,’ said Urusander behind them, ‘best to flee, my friends. I cannot stop her.’

Sharenas cursed under her breath. In this light, even justice will burn.

* * *

Dead?