Paran was doing just that. He had little knowledge of either, and could not think of any possible way in which he might be connected with them. His unease deepened, followed by a painful roil in his stomach. The captain scowled. He was too tired to think, yet think he must. ‘It’s said that the old emperor, Kellanved, and Dancer found a way into Deadhouse . . .’

‘Kellanved and Dancer have since ascended and now hold the House of Shadow. Kellanved is Shadowthrone, and Dancer is Cotillion, the Rope, Patron of Assassins.’

The captain stared at her. ‘What?’

Silverfox grinned. ‘It’s obvious when you consider it, isn’t it? Who among the ascendants went after Laseen . . . with the aim of destroying her? Shadowthrone and Cotillion. Why would any ascendant care one way or another about a mortal woman? Unless they thirsted for vengeance.’

Paran’s mind raced back, to a road on the coast of Itko Kan, to a dreadful slaughter, wounds made by huge, bestial jaws – Hounds. Hounds of Shadow – Shadowthrone’s pups... From that day, the captain had begun a new path. On the trail of the young woman Cotillion had possessed. From that day, his life had begun its fated unravelling. ‘Wait! Kellanved and Dancer went into Deadhouse – why didn’t they take that aspect – the aspect of the House of Death?’

‘I’ve thought about that myself, and have arrived at one possibility. The realm of Death was already occupied, Paran. The King of High House Death is Hood. I believe now that each Azath is home to every gate, a way into every warren. Gain entry to the House, and you may ... choose. Kellanved and Dancer found an empty House, an empty throne, and upon taking their places as Shadow’s rulers, the House of Shadow appeared, and became part of the Deck of Dragons. Do you see?’

Paran slowly nodded, struggling to take it all in. Tremors of pain twisted his stomach – he pushed them away. But what has this to do with me?

‘The House of Shadow was once a Hold,’ Silverfox went on. ‘You can tell – it doesn’t share the hierarchical structure of the other Houses. It is bestial, a wilder place, and apart from the Hounds it knew no ruler for a long, long time.’

‘What of the Deck’s Unaligned?’

She shrugged. ‘Failed aspects? The imposition of chance, of random forces? The Azath and the Deck are both impositions of order, but even order needs freedom, lest it solidify and become fragile.’

‘And where do you think I fit in? I’m nothing, Silverfox. A stumble-footed mortal.’ Gods, leave me out of all this – all that you seem to be leading up to. Please.