Walk out into the waters… sink slowly beneath the gently flowing river… seek the eternal silence of the drowning deeps.

River goddess, rock me gently to sleep…

Orial closed her eyes – and threw herself into the Avenne.

CHAPTER 26

As the fiacre approached the Asylum, Jerame saw the huddle of figures gathered on the riverbank.

‘Dear Goddess, no. Please, no!’

The fiacre drew to a halt in front of the Asylum, the wheels sending up a spray of gravel.

‘Wait here!’

He tried to run but his legs had lost their strength; he seemed to be wading through water, not air.

As he approached, one by one, they drew aside revealing the drowned girl lying on the bank.

‘Orial,’ he said brokenly.

Dropping to his knees beside her, he fumbled for a pulse, listened for a breath. His hands shook so much he could hardly control them.

Tartarus put one hand on his shoulder. He was drenched to the skin, trembling with cold.

‘I’m sorry, Jerame. It’s too late.’

‘There’s still a faint pulse, I can feel it –’

‘I tried everything. I emptied the water from her, I breathed air into her mouth – nothing works.’

‘No, no, I’m sure – look!’ He cradled her limp body in his arms. ‘She’s just cold. Cold and wet. She’ll revive. She’ll be all right once I get her home. I’ll make her warm and dry.’

He picked her up and went slowly back towards the waiting cab, staggering under the drowned weight of her body.

Amaru Khassian the unbeliever stared at the Rose.

In the few hours since he had first seen it, the single flower had swelled from bud to bloom. Now it trembled on the brink of unfurling its petals, petals that were crimson, dark blood-crimson.

The Rose that sprang from the breast of the dead Poet-Prophet Mhir had been red as heart’s blood. And the Blood of the Rose had brought the dying Elesstar, Elesstar the Beloved, back to life.

Why was he – the cynic, the unbeliever – the one to discover this mystery?

And why here, why in Sulien?

Sulien was a place where ancient beliefs and customs persisted, where past and present mingled inextricably. A place beyond time.

Anything might happen here.

If the Rose could bring Elesstar back from the dead, could it also restore a fractured mind?

Could it heal Orial?

Khassian ran across the river towards Pump Street and the Sanatorium, tugging at the bell-pull as best he could with both hands.

Cook answered the door. Her eyes looked red and raw, her lined cheeks were wet with tears.

‘Orial!’ Khassian said between gasps for breath. ‘I must see her.’

‘You c-can’t see her now, sieur.’

‘Can’t see her?’ Something was wrong, terribly wrong, Khassian could sense it.

‘Oh, sieur, she’s – she’s dead. Drowned.’ Cook shook her head, one hand covering her mouth as though to hold back her sobs.

Dead.

The air went dark.