Lady Oraylis takes a deep breath. ‘Sister Evangeline.’ Oraylis says my title and name slowly, as if she is sounding it out. ‘Would you pray with me?’

‘Of course.’

She smiles faintly, and we both bow our heads. Beside me, Ravara does the same.

‘O God-Emperor, be with me as I walk the darkness.’

Oraylis’ hands shake in mine as the ship shakes around us.

‘O God-Emperor, watch over me as I serve the light.’

The lumens flicker and bloom.

‘O God-Emperor, armour me as I battle the wicked.’

Oraylis’ hands settle in mine, and for a moment the ship is quiet, too.

‘O God-Emperor,’ I say. ‘Surround me, restore me and deliver me so that I may serve you always. In life, and in death.’

Oraylis and Ravara echo the last five words together.

In life, and in death.

‘Thank you,’ Oraylis says, then she lifts her head and looks at me, though her eye sockets are empty. She is not shaking any more.

‘It is so bright,’ she says.

‘What is?’

‘Your mark,’ she says. ‘I do not need to see you to see it. I can feel it, like a ­brazier’s warmth. Like the beacon’s light in the darkness.’ Oraylis frees her hand from mine and lifts it towards my face. ‘May I?’

‘Of course,’ I say, though the last thing I want is for her to touch me.

Oraylis raises her shaking hand and puts it to my face. Her breathing turns ragged and I realise that she would be weeping, were it still possible.

‘He truly loves you, Battle Sister Evangeline,’ she whispers.

Her words strike my heart and make it ache.

‘He loves all loyal souls,’ I say to her.

She lets her hand fall away from my face. Around us, the Vow is momentarily, blessedly silent.

‘Will you sail, Lady Oraylis?’ I ask her.

She smiles sadly.

‘I will sail.’

When we emerge from the Chamber of Sail, others are waiting for us amongst the smoke and ruin. Canoness Elivia and her Celestians are as damaged as the Chamber Awaiting, bloodied and bruised, their armour peeled back to the base layers. They are accompanied by a handful of the Vow’s armsmen. Men and women whose carapace plate has been repainted crimson by their bloody work, and whose eyes have been repainted with dark shadows by what they have seen. But they are alive, which makes my heart lift. If they yet live, then so might my Sisters.