‘She left because she chose to. Our paths have forked.’

‘That’s it? After everything?’ Chel was back on his feet, wiping crimson rain from his battered face.

‘It was her decision and she knew what it meant. She treads her path, I tread mine. To its end.’ He swept back the cloak, snatching up the crossbow and setting it back on the rail.

‘You’ll do no good by dying.’

He didn’t turn his head, but his eyes glowed sidelong.

‘Then stop me.’

Chel launched himself across the stone, slamming into the bigger man’s side, lunging for the crossbow. Rennic twisted, anticipating, the crossbow out of reach, a powerful elbow driven back against Chel’s skull. He reeled, head ringing, scrabbling for grip against the splashing stone.

Rennic looked back over the rail, angling the crossbow again. ‘Looks like they’ve stopped,’ he said with his sharp smile. ‘Perhaps to investigate the disappearance of the kingling’s lickspittle into this tow—’

Chel crashed into him again, this time driving him to the weathered stone. They tussled for the crossbow, Rennic’s blows instinctive, his strength enough to wrestle Chel’s hands away. He shoved him, clearing enough space to scrabble back and up against the wall. His breath was coming fast, and for the first time Chel saw weakness in his eyes. He had one hand at his side, the water running from it pink. The fight with Spider had taken its toll.

‘Let me finish it!’ he growled, his breath sharp little fogs. ‘We were doing something good.’

Chel pushed himself half-upright. He was soaked through, coronation robes hanging slack and clingy against his skin. ‘We were doing something necessary! And we did it. Things are different. They will be different. Tarfel isn’t like the others! He’s one of us, he’s a friend. He can make a difference, do something good!’

‘You think he’s so different, little man? Ask him where the alchemist is.’

‘What? Surely she’s still in Arowan, with—’

‘She’s here. Ask to see her. All the silver in the south says you won’t.’

‘He’s not—’

‘You’re telling me you’re happy with this new dawn? The same confessors in golden armour?’

‘All my doubt isn’t worth throwing the kingdom into another anarchist convulsion. I won’t let you do this.’

‘Don’t make me kill you, little man.’

‘I won’t let you kill me any more than I’ll let you kill him.’

For a moment, something gleamed in Rennic’s eyes. ‘Are you going to kill me, then?’

Slowly, Chel drew himself to his feet. He drew the good knife from its sheath. Rennic’s eyes followed it, something dark and hungry within them.

‘I don’t understand you, little man. You’ve lost every fight you’ve thrown yourself into, but you keep coming back for more.’