After half an hour, Su-Kassen realised that they had recrossed their path several times. A while after that she finally had to admit to herself that she had no idea where they were. As if in answer to that fact, they joined a spiral stair of brass and began to climb. Archamus had not tried to guide her, but just followed. At last she realised that her steps had taken them back to the Bhab Bastion – and so she had found herself staring down at the shot-pistol.

‘We always return to our cages…’ she said to herself. Across the room, Kelik stirred his feathers in reply.

‘Do you wish something?’ asked Archamus.

‘Nothing,’ she said, still not turning. ‘I will just be a moment.’

There were scratch marks on the pistol’s trigger guard, she noticed, silver metal showing through blue-black. Hundreds of gauntleted hands holding the bone grip had made those scratches as their fingers curled around the trigger. The trigger guard itself was big too, enlarged to fit a digit wrapped in void-armour. She wondered how many people had called the gun their own? How many had died with it in their grasp?

She looked at the empty space in the velvet beside the gun, the empty outline of its twin. She reached out, as though her fingers would find something in the space that her eyes could not see.

‘I am sorry,’ Malcador had said. ‘We must have had this information for a while. For years, but the connection was never made.’

She had not looked up from the scroll of parchment in her hands. It was thin enough to be translucent, she realised, the black machine-scribed letters seeming almost to float. So insubstantial, so… unreal.

‘Why now?’ she had heard herself ask. Then looked up at Malcador. The Regent’s eyes were steady on hers.

‘The Khan made a specific request, a demand actually, that we find anything and everything we could. He seemed to think it important that if there were answers to be had, you had them. I agree. Now of all times we must be certain of ourselves.’

She had looked back at the parchment, at the words that had been highlighted with a neat line of red ink.

‘…wreckage assay confirm warship Thunder Break destroyed with all hands while trying to flee from the Isstvan System. Indications of command mutiny by traitor elements in crew leading to ship’s loss of power and destruction by main gun force of traitor vessels. Peripheral indications that captain had ordered ship to break from Horus’ force.’

‘I…’ she had begun to say and felt a numbness soak in from her skin. ‘I need to get back to my command.’

‘Of course,’ said the Regent, and was standing before she could protest. The effort sent a twinge of pain across his face. He walked with her to the door, leaning on his staff for each step.