His mood radiated ahead of him, clearing a path without need for words. When he finally reached Rochant’s room, the guards straightened in alarm. ‘Give us privacy,’ he said, and they quickly moved clear of the door.

It was dark inside the room, its occupant still in bed. Vasin ground his teeth. Rochant is an early riser. His loud footfalls as he crossed the room soon woke the imposter up.

‘Who is it now? Can’t I just have a couple of hours sleep without—’

Vasin reached the bed.

‘—Lord Vasin?’

Vasin grabbed the soft silk sleeping robe and tipped its wearer onto the floor. ‘Who are you?’

The man rolled to his feet, arms up, in a defensive stance … He lacks Rochant’s grace. This only served to make Vasin angrier. He vaulted the bed and caught the man’s hand even as it was swinging for his head, twisted the man’s arm up hard against his back, and slammed him harder still against the wall. Vasin brought his middle and index finger to the side of the man’s neck.

‘I will ask you one more time, imposter, and if I do not like your answer, you are dead.’

The words were out of his mouth before he had time to think. The truth was he’d stopped thinking ever since Lady Pari started talking to him. But he started thinking now. His threat was empty. Nobody killed a Deathless in their own castle and got away with it. Especially not the child of Nidra Un-Sapphire. An act like this would destroy his hard-won reputation, not to mention usher in his last death.

While he was thinking this, the man in his grasp began to shake. Then he began to cry, his face folding in on itself like a child’s. ‘Satyendra,’ he gasped. ‘I am Satyendra.’

‘The Vessel?’

‘Yes.’

‘How is this possible?’

‘I don’t know. Please stop hurting me.’

Vasin’s fingers pressed deeper into Satyendra’s neck, making him gag. Then he released the pressure but left them resting lightly against the skin. ‘What happened?’

‘The Bringers did the ritual and it didn’t work. But everyone acted like it did. They were so happy I didn’t know what to do. Please, my lord, I’ll do anything, but please, don’t kill me.’

He realized that he’d been digging his fingers in again. A part of him wanted to kill Satyendra. Everything was such a mess, he just wanted to lash out. But this isn’t Satyendra’s fault. The ritual must have failed because Rochant’s soul is still in this world. Until he dies, he can’t be reborn. Satyendra is pathetic but he’s no abomination, there would have been no demon for the Bringers to find.

‘How did you pass their test?’

‘I used my knowledge of Lord Rochant and I … got lucky.’

‘Lucky? By the Thrice Blessed Suns I should kill you.’