And had known, instantly, that she was gone. And there would be no trail for him to follow.

Iskaral Pust had conjured up a mule and ridden off earlier. Of Mogora there was, mercifully, no sign.

Thoroughly alone, then, for most of this day.

Until now.

‘There are countless paths awaiting you.’

Cutter sighed. ‘Hello, Cotillion. I was wondering if you’d show up ... again.’

‘Again?’

‘You spoke with Apsalar. Here in this very chamber. You helped her decide.’

‘She told you?’

He shook his head. ‘Not entirely.’

‘Her decision was hers to make, Cutter. Hers alone.’

‘It doesn’t matter. Never mind. Odd, though. You see countless paths. Whilst I see ... none worth walking.’

‘Do you seek, then, something worthy?’

Cutter slowly closed his eyes, then sighed. ‘What would you have me do?’

‘There was a man, once, whose task was to guard the life of a young girl. He did the best he could – with such honour as to draw, upon his sad death, the attention of Hood himself. Oh, the Lord of Death will look into a mortal’s soul, given the right circumstances. The, uh, the proper incentive. Thus, that man is now the Knight of Death—’

‘I don’t want to be Knight of anything, nor for anyone, Cotillion—’

‘The wrong track, lad. Let me finish my tale. This man did the best he could, but he failed. And now the girl is dead. She was named Felisin. Of House Paran.’

Cutter’s head turned. He studied the shadowed visage of the god. ‘Captain Paran? His—’

‘His sister. Look down upon the path, here, out the window, lad. In a short time Iskaral Pust will return. With guests. Among them, a child named Felisin—’

‘But you said—’

‘Before Paran’s sister ... died, she adopted a waif. A sorely abused foundling. She sought, I think – we will never know for certain, of course – to achieve something ... something she herself had no chance, no opportunity, to achieve. Thus, she named the waif after herself.’

‘And what is she to me, Cotillion?’

‘You are being obstinate, I think. The wrong question.’

‘Oh, then tell me what is the right question.’

‘What are you to her?’

Cutter grimaced.

‘The child approaches in the company of another woman, a very remarkable one, as you – and she – will come to see. And with a priest, sworn now to Treach. From him, you will learn ... much of worth. Finally, a demon travels with these three humans. For the time being...’

‘Where are they going? Why stop here, as Iskaral’s guests?’

‘Why, to collect you, Cutter.’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘Symmetry, lad, is a power unto itself. It is the expression, if you will, of nature’s striving for balance. I charge you with protecting Felisin’s life. To accompany them on their long, and dangerous, journey.’

‘How epic of you.’

‘I think not,’ Cotillion snapped.

Silence, for a time, during which Cutter regretted his comment.