‘Like the draw of a tide. Like the pull of something inescapable,’ Oraylis says, and then she coughs. Gasps for air she cannot get. The Navigator’s hands fall away from my face and she falls back in her throne.

‘E-Evangeline,’ she stammers.

I take her hands in my own and hold onto them tightly as her body trembles and her breathing falters and blood runs from her nose. Her ears. Her sightless eyes.

‘He is coming for me,’ she murmurs, through chattering teeth. ‘The G-God-Emperor.’

I cannot help it. I have to ask. I have to know.

‘What do you see?’

Lady Tornella Oraylis smiles again, despite the blood and the tremors and the rattle of her chest.

‘Light,’ she says. ‘N-nothing but l-light.’

And then the Navigator falls completely, blessedly still.

Evangeline

EVANGELINE

‘The Lady Oraylis is dead,’ Elivia says.

The Canoness is leaning heavily on the gnarlwood table in her chambers, backlit by starlight. Haloed by it. Those standing around the table react differently to her words. Okash makes the sign of the aquila with his pale hands, head bowed. Quinn mutters a curse under her breath. Zoric shakes his head. Inquisitor Ravara does not move at all. Not even to blink. I have not seen Ravara since before the jumps. The inquisitor looks to be hurting less. She no longer needs a cane to stand or walk, and though her face is hollowed by her injuries, her eyes are bright and keen, like those of something that hunts.

‘With no Navigator, we are limited to realspace travel,’ Elivia says. ‘Which means we need to work out exactly where we are, and how far we have yet to go.’ She looks at Okash. ‘I trust you have an answer for me, shipmaster?’

Okash hesitates a moment before he nods. It is a hesitation I recognise. One that signifies the disassociation he feels regarding his new rank. It is apparent, too, in the way he looks. Since inheriting the command throne from Vallien, Ulivar Okash has become even more angular. Even thinner. His edgeless eyes are surrounded by circles so dark they could be bruises.

‘The Vow’s augeries were damaged during translation, but according to the charts and data, we have exited the warp at the Aschen-Proxima Mandeville point.’ Okash pauses, as if he is making certain of his next words. ‘Which puts us within a week’s realspace sailing of Dimmamar.’

There is a moment of quiet around the table.

‘You are sure?’ Elivia asks.

Okash nods. ‘As sure as I can be, Canoness,’ he says.

‘Then where’s the fleet?’ Quinn says. Like the shipmaster, she too has been affected by the weight of her new role. Quinn’s eyes are bloodshot, her cropped hair untidy and matted. ‘At the very least there should be a picket line at the system’s borders.’