A laugh now, a full, high laugh that might have been Nilus, or Keeler, or Loken, or the howl of wolves in a winter-shrouded forest.

And the image of Maloghurst, the knife and the stone table vanished.

A view across the mountains of Terra blinked into being behind high windows. A breeze was sliding through a half-opened door to the enclosed garden beyond. The thin curtains stirred. The polished wood floor was warm beneath Mersadie’s feet.

‘Nothing like being back home,’ said a voice behind her. She turned, half expecting not to be able to move.

The face of Euphrati Keeler looked up at her. Coloured tiles and beads lay on the floor around her, some broken, some ground to dust. There was blood on Keeler’s grey robe, a wet, bright splatter from forehead to fingers. She was picking her teeth with a piece of broken glass.

‘You were never Keeler,’ said Mersadie.

‘No,’ said the bloody face of Keeler. ‘But you wanted to believe so much that it made it an easy choice of what face to wear.’

‘Where is she?’

The bloody woman on the floor laughed.

‘Really? At this point, you are still worried about your friend?’

Mersadie began to take a step forwards, anger rising. She froze, locking in place.

‘My, my, there is still some strength in you,’ said the image of Keeler, standing, the shard of glass still in her hand, held loose, dripping blood. ‘Euphrati Keeler, the real Euphrati Keeler still lives, still follows her lies about the false God-Emperor, but it was never her speaking to you.’ Mersadie felt a hollowness open in her. ‘Oh, you are wondering about before – about the dream and message about Loken… about “saying goodbye”. Did you like that touch?’

Mersadie tried to force her jaw to open. The mouth in Keeler’s face twitched and she shrugged. Mersadie gasped.

‘When…’

‘On the Vengeful Spirit, of course, in one of those slivers of time that you don’t even realise you don’t remember. That is the strange thing about being so sure of your memory – it makes hiding things easy. You never doubted because you believed in yourself.’

‘Maloghurst…’

‘A little bit of sorcery used for a simple task. They really did just want to know where Garviel Loken stood – as though it weren’t obvious.’ The image of Keeler snorted. ‘They wanted an eye on him, watching from where he would not expect.’ The thing raised the shard of glass and pointed it at Mersadie’s left eye. ‘So they put that eye in you. It didn’t turn out to be much use in the end. But it was there…’

‘But now… Maloghurst could not have known that I would be here.’

The thing was shivering slightly. Its grin was wide, too wide, and leaking red at the corners. The wind was moaning as it rose outside of the windows.