Audla Jaff had gone off to begin her research. Drusher wasn’t sure what that meant, and he didn’t like to imagine. Medea Betancore had begun the slow process of leading Eisenhorn up the stairs to his chamber. Full night had closed in and with it a thunderstorm of monstrous proportions. Lightning strobed at the fortress windows. The shutters rattled, and the stone hallways resounded with the drumming of rain outside and the frantic dripping within, as water drained through the ragged roof and dribbled into pots and buckets.

Voriet led Drusher to a small parlour behind the kitchen where the others were waiting. A fire had been lit, and it was verging on cosy. Macks looked up as they entered. Nayl was by the hearth, chatting to the three deputies. The storm had driven Cronyl and Edde indoors. Their boots were off, and they were trying to dry their socks against the fire.

‘Has something happened?’ asked Garofar, lowering a mug of caffeine.

‘We may have a lead,’ said Voriet. ‘Can I borrow you, marshal?’

‘Of course,’ said Macks, rising to her feet.

‘We need some local data,’ said Voriet. ‘You have maps. I’ll need your link to the Magistratum database.’

‘No problem,’ said Macks. ‘That is, if the up-link is still working. The storm’s playing blessed hell with vox connections. Look, if it’s local information you need, ask my deputies. I’m not from the area, but they were all born in Unkara.’

‘Keshtre,’ said Voriet. He looked at the deputies. ‘Mean anything to any of you?’

‘Not me,’ said Edde. Cronyl shook his head.

‘The bad place?’ asked Garofar.

‘What?’ asked Voriet.

‘Like in the bedtime story…’ Garofar’s voice trailed off. He blushed. ‘Sorry. I wasn’t trying to be funny.’

‘Go on, Hadeed,’ said Macks.

‘I don’t know, mam,’ said Garofar. ‘It was just a story. A faerie story. The bad place up in the hills. Keshtre. Where the monsters lived. We had to go to bed when we were told and behave and stuff, or the monsters would creep down in the night and steal us away.’

‘Where is it?’ asked Drusher.

‘Begging your pardon, sir,’ said Garofar, ‘it’s not anywhere. It was just a made-up thing.’

‘It’s a fortress, apparently,’ Voriet said to Macks. ‘Near here. Towards the pass. That’s right, isn’t it, magos?’

‘That’s what the ghost told me,’ said Drusher. He knew he could have phrased it better, but he quite enjoyed the look his comment got from everybody.

‘There’s no other fortresses near here, sir,’ said Cronyl. ‘Not between here and the pass. The closest is Angmire, but that’s forty kilometres north.’

‘No, Korlok is closer,’ said Edde. ‘That’s near town. Over west.’

‘Oh yeah, Korlok,’ said Cronyl, ‘but that’s just a ruin.’

‘Well, they’re all ruins,’ said Edde, ‘apart from Helter. And this place isn’t much better than a ruin.’