‘Self-destruction is the ultimate sin,’ Acir said, though the sternness of his words was lessened by the involuntary chattering of his teeth. He seemed unable to stop shivering. ‘I c-could not let you put your immortal soul in danger of p-perdition.’

‘You really – believe all that, don’t you? Damnation, salvation. You poor deluded simpleton –’

And then torchlights illumined the bank. The rescuers had brought blankets and a stretcher. They carried Khassian to the lodge-keeper’s cottage at the gates to the gardens, Acir following, squelching as water dripped into his boots.

There the lodge-keeper and his wife helped them out of their wet clothes and wrapped them in blankets. Acir found himself thawing in front of the fire, hands clasped about a mug of mulled cider.

‘A foolish accident,’ he told them. ‘My companion was leaning over the river when the wind carried his hat away. He tried to fish it out with a stick… and fell in…’

‘Visitors, eh?’ The lodge-keeper gave his wife a knowing look. ‘The Avenne’s treacherous this time of year. Sulien folk won’t go near her till spring’s past. Then she runs as smooth and placid as a minnow-stream.’

Khassian, sitting hunched in his cocoon of blankets and towels, slowly raised his head.

‘You can’t go back to your lodgings in those wet clothes,’ the woman said. ‘Shall we send for dry ones?’

‘You’ve been most generous…’ Now that the crisis was past, Acir found himself fighting off drowsiness; as the warmth of the fire and the spiced cider glowed in his veins, he felt an overwhelming urge to curl up in the flames’ glow and sleep. Yet he must keep awake, keep vigilant. Given Khassian’s morbid frame of mind, he might easily attempt to kill himself again.

‘You lied, Captain Korentan.’ Khassian’s voice rasped, rough from retching up the riverwater he had swallowed. ‘You lied to protect me. Doesn’t that mean you’ve tarnished your immortal soul?’

Acir came awake with a start. Khassian was watching him, his eyes lit with a dull gleam. Hard as pebbles seen through riverwater…

‘Does that bother you?’ Acir asked.

‘Why are you still here? Afraid I’ll set fire to myself? Impale myself on the fire-poker?’ He broke off, coughing. ‘But then I’m no use to you dead, am I?’

Acir chose not to reply. He sensed that Khassian was spoiling for a fight. And he was too tired to fight. Too damned tired…

A little while later, the grating of carriage wheels on the gravel path outside woke Acir. He must have lapsed into a doze. He sat up, inwardly cursing himself for falling asleep on duty.

Cramoisy flung open the door and swept into the firelit parlour.

‘I came as soon as I got your message! Whatever possessed you to fall into the river, Amar?’

Acir stood up, clutching the blanket to him.