‘I have sent word to my colleagues in the Holy Ordos,’ Zaretta Ngiri said. The inquisitor had lost a lot of blood from Niklau’s attack, but Chetta’s vox-call had led to a veritable frenzy of activity, and chirurgeons had been amongst the first on the scene. She was currently using a cane not dissimilar to Chetta’s own, but there was every indication that within a few weeks she’d be back to her previous level of health. Fell had also survived, although the amount of synskin grafts he’d required meant that he wouldn’t be returning to duty any time soon. ‘There are others who will have a pressing interest in what has happened here, and a greater level of expertise than my own in the nature of those involved.’

Chetta exchanged a glance with Judge Arctos. He undoubtedly had as many reasons to be uneasy about the prospect of new inquisitors arriving as she did, given the notoriously individual and mercurial nature of that particular breed. However, neither of them were going to show that openly.

‘They will receive our full cooperation, of course,’ Arctos said smoothly. ‘Will you be staying to facilitate the handover, Lady Ngiri?’

‘I may be present,’ Ngiri said. She took a step to the side, and winced. ‘Honestly, Chetta, I don’t know how you manage this.’

Chetta, who was currently on her feet solely through a combination of extremely strong painkillers and sheer bloody-mindedness, masked her reflexive acid response with a half-smile. ‘Long practice.’

‘However, my duties may require me to be elsewhere,’ Ngiri continued, either not noticing or choosing to ignore whatever irritation might have slipped through Chetta’s expression. ‘Apropos of which, I believe that you have another guest waiting?’

‘Indeed.’ Arctos turned and headed for the elevators, the long robes of his office flowing around him. ‘If you would follow me?’

The ride up from the interrogation cells to Judge Arctos’ personal audience chamber was a quiet one. The judge’s two bodyguards, clad in top-of-the-line carapace that wouldn’t have been out of place on a senior Astra Militarum officer, were as silent and unobtrusive as two deadly warriors could be. Ngiri seemed to be in no mood for idle chat, and Chetta was too exhausted to break the silence herself. Her sleep in the two nights since Vorlese’s near destruction had been patchy and pain-filled, and her days had been hectic and even more pain-filled. She had, at least, stamped down hard enough on any vestiges of political ambition amongst her remaining immediate family that her confirmation as Novator had gone unchallenged, although the elders of Brobantis universally hailing her as the saviour of the house and planet certainly hadn’t hurt. Scheming would break out amongst her inferiors soon enough, she had no doubt, but for now she was riding a wave of gratitude despite the fact that most of her house had only the sketchiest idea of what had actually occurred.