Macks cursed under her breath. She edged forwards and slowly settled down into a crouch so she could peer under the rows of gurneys and play her stablight around. Nothing. No heap of bones on the floor.

And how did a bundle of bones fall off a gurney anyway?

Macks rose again slowly, her weapon raised and ready. She realised she was breathing hard, and she forced her herself to slow the rate. She backed gently to the doors and stepped out into the corridor.

‘Nayl?’ she whispered into the mic on her collar.

Still nothing. She braced her weapon with one hand and pushed the cold store door shut, re-setting the bolts.

Something beside her screamed.

Macks jumped in shock and wheeled around, her weapon levelled. Her heart was racing. There was nothing there. She circled, hunting the length of the corridor both ways with her powerful beam. Nothing.

The scream came again.

‘Throne!’ she spat. It was her vox. Her damn vox. It was squalling and yelping, uttering shrill bursts of audio-wash.

‘Nayl!’ she snapped, gripping the collar unit with one hand. ‘Nayl, respond!’

She headed back towards the stairs to the main hall.

‘Nayl? Someone’s been into the cold store. There’s a set of remains missing. Nayl!’

Static fluttered.

She half heard her name, scrambled by the interference.

‘Nayl, do you copy?’

‘Marshal? Say again–’

‘Nayl, the cold store’s been opened. A body’s gone.’

‘Copy that.’ Nayl’s reply was masked with noise.

‘Meet me at the entrance,’ she barked.

Silence.

‘Nayl?’

She reached the main hall and closed the cellar door. For a moment, she thought she saw someone standing at the far end of the hall, a figure in the shadows. But as soon as she turned her stablight that way, it was gone. Just her imagination. She’d got herself spooked. Her mind was playing tricks.

She headed for the front entrance, but changed her mind and switched down the side passage to the parlour first. Drusher was still sound asleep in front of the hearth.

‘Valentin?’

She shook him.

‘Valentin!’

He woke up, bleary.

‘What? Is it… What?’

‘Something’s going on,’ she said. ‘Get up.’

‘What?’ he asked, blinking. ‘What sort of something?’

‘I don’t know. Something.’

He got to his feet, his limbs stiff.

‘You looked scared,’ he said.

‘Just get your coat on,’ she replied.

‘Germaine, why are you scared?’ Drusher asked.

‘Shut up, and get your coat on, magos,’ she said. ‘We’re going outside.’

He struggled into his coat. She could see that she’d alarmed him. He wasn’t properly awake, and everything was an effort.

‘One of the bodies has gone,’ she said.

He looked at her.

‘Gone? In what way?’

‘In a “not there any more” way, Drusher. I just checked the cold store. A body has gone.’

‘Taken?’ he asked.

‘Well, of course. How else would a body disappear? Someone’s in the house.’

‘You’ve seen–’