'A new day,' he said aloud, and, even as he said it, felt the awesome fears of the past lose their power and drift away like woodsmoke in a breeze. He felt free, and alive, and the future that had yesterday seemed bleak and shadow-haunted now shone brightly in this new sunlight. How could this be? he wondered. Then he remembered the old woman, and the words she had spoken to him. 'Perhaps it will bring you peace now.' Amid the drama and horror of the events in the house of Appius he had not fully registered what she had said. How did she know of his fears and his endless torment?

Perhaps she is a seer, he thought.

Banouin waited until the death wagons had been drawn away, then walked slowly into the house. He avoided looking at the bloodstained rugs, and climbed the stairs to the upper bedroom. As he opened the door he heard the voice of the Morrigu.

'You were not worthy of your Talent,' she said.

Banouin did not reply, but gazed down on the deathly pale face of his friend. 'He is dead, isn't he?'

'No, he is not dead,' said the Morrigu, 'though his soul has fled this damaged shell. He should be dead, however. His lung was pierced through, and his liver.'

Banouin moved to the bedside. Bane was lying naked on the bed. There were stitches to the wounds in his chest and hip, and a little blood was seeping through them.

'Why did you save him?'

'A soldier of Stone wished it, and it is my destiny to grant wishes. I might ask you a similar question: why did you not save him? He is your friend.'

'What could I do? I am no fighter.'

'No,' said the Morrigu. 'You are not – not in any sense of the word. Why did you come back? Now you have missed your ship, and your journey to the towering greatness of Stone.'

Banouin felt the contempt in the words. 'I don't know why I came back.' He sat down by the bedside and took hold of Bane's hand. 'Why do you say I could have saved him?'

'Why did you not warn Appius of the impending attack? He could have fled the house with his daughter. They would still have been alive. Then Bane would not have attempted his valiant rescue.'

'It was a vision. It was the truth. I could not have changed it.'

'The words of a man with the heart of a weasel,' she hissed. 'Best you go from here, Banouin. Run away to Stone. Hide yourself from all confrontation and danger. Live out your miserable life lost in the words and the works of better men.'