‘Ready, lord?’ Tomo says, over the internal vox.

‘Ready,’ I say.

The rear ramp eases closed, and the passenger compartment falls quiet, thanks to the same sound-swallowing technology that keeps Meridia so silent. I can only just feel the thunder of the aircraft’s engines through the seat.

‘So then, inquisitor,’ Yumia says. ‘If we are not to kill, then what duty awaits us?’

I lace my hands together in my lap and look at my companions in turn.

‘I have been shown a dream,’ I say. ‘Not of Hellebore, or the Rift. Something else. Something new.’

I tell them most of what I saw in the dream. The tower and the storm, and the eagle, ablaze. The divine, golden light. I do not mention my father. Zoric leans forwards in his seat, his elbows on his knees. He is completely intent on my words. Yumia listens closely, too, somehow more alert than ever.

‘Sounds like a miracle in waiting, lord,’ Zoric says, when I am done speaking.

‘Provided we can hunt down this eagle ablaze,’ Yumia says.

I nod. ‘That is why we are going to speak with the Master of Dreams.’

Zoric’s expression changes from intent to open disdain. ‘Terra’s mercy,’ he says, with a shake of his head.

‘Who is the Master of Dreams?’ Yumia asks, because she hasn’t served me long enough to know.

Zoric sits back against the wall of the transport and scowls. ‘Dagra Thul,’ he says. ‘He’s a black market dealer. A criminal.’

Yumia laughs. ‘So were you, once.’

Zoric shakes his head. He’s definitely not laughing. ‘Not like Thul,’ he says. ‘He’s not in it for the coin. Not really. He’s in it for the kicks. He’s a cruel-hearted bastard.’

‘There is more to Thul than simple cruelty,’ I tell them. ‘He keeps a choir of psykers in his holdings in Tashkent Hive who have a strength of sight that’s rare to find outside the ordos.’

‘Because he keeps them asleep, and pipes them with drugs to open their minds wider,’ Zoric says, still scowling. ‘Then Thul harvests their dreams and sells them to those who will pay for it. He takes pleasure in it.’

Yumia is frowning, now. ‘And the ordos do nothing to stop him?’ she asks.

‘He is being monitored,’ I tell her. ‘But as of right now, Dagra Thul is more useful than he is dangerous.’

Yumia’s frown deepens. ‘But he is a monster,’ she says.

‘He is,’ I allow. ‘But a necessary one.’

Yumia shakes her head, but she doesn’t argue. ‘Then his due will be paid in time,’ she says. ‘As with all monsters.’

Zoric’s eyes fall to his hands as he flexes his burn-scarred fingers. ‘You’re damned right,’ he says absently. ‘The God-Emperor finds them all, in the end.’

I nod, though I can’t help but idly consider if they would name me monster, too, if they knew my secrets and all of the things I have done.

If they knew that Sofika was still alive, and that I chose to keep it from them.