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'So　you　haven't　been　here　before？　You　haven't　been　in　before？'
'No；'　he　said　sharply。　Either　I　had　offended　him　or…
'Go　if　you　have　to；'　I　said。
'Goodnight；　Gregor。'
'Goodnight；　Titus。　I'd　offer　to　show　you　out；　but　I　think　you　know　the　way　well　enough。'
He　grinned；　raised　his　glass　and　finished　it　in　a　single　swig。
'Raise　'em　and　sink　'em　and　let's　have　another！'
'I　hope　so；'　I　replied。
THE　PALACE　OF　the　Inquisition　on　Thracian　Primaris　is　high　in　the　cloud　tiers　of　Hive　Forty…Four。　The　size　of　a　small　city　itself；　it　is
the　chief　office　of　the　Inquisition　in　the　Helican　subsector；　maintaining　a　permanent　staff　of　sixty　thousand。　I　make　no　excuses　for　its
black　staetite　facings；　its　darkened　windows；　its　protective　spines　of　iron　spikes。　Critics　of　the　Inquisition　may　regard　its　architecture
as　almost　comically　overdone；　playing　directly　to　the　general　public's　worst　fears　about　the　nature　of　the　Inquisition　with　its　deliberate；
black　menace。　That；　I　would　say；　is　precisely　the　point。　Fear　keeps　the　populace　in　line；　fear　of　an　institution　so　terrible　it　will　not
hesitate　to　punish　them　for　transgressions。

At　the　start　of　the　next　day　cycle；　I　went　to　the　Palace；　escorted　by　Aemos；　von　Baigg　and　Thula　Surskova。　Ironically；　I　felt　vulnerable
with　only　three　companions　at　my　side。　I　had　grown　too　used　to　a　large　retinue　these　last　few　decades。　I　had　to　remind　myself　that
there　had　been　a　time　when　my　entire　retinue　would　have　numbered　three　such　people。
The　Palace　of　me　Inquisition　is　not　a　place　for　casual　or　accidental　meetings。　Inside；　it　is　a　dark　maze　of　shadowy　halls；　void　screens
and　opaquing　fields。　The　staff　and　visitors　move　privately　behind　masking　energy　fields；　their　business　confidential。　On　entry　to　the
echoing　main　hall；　my　party　was　issued　with　a　drone　cyber…skull　that　hovered　at　our　shoulders　and　projected　an　insulating　cone　of
silence　around　us。　We　were　offered　an　astropath　adept　too　to　further　ensure　our　privacy；　but　I　declined。　Surskova；　with　her
untouchable　quality；　was　all　I　needed。
The　hooded　Inquisitorial　guards；　their　burgundy　armour　threaded　with　gold　leaf　and　emblazoned　with　the　seal　of　our　Office；　led　us
across　the　black　marble　floor；　their　double…handed　powerblades　held　upright　before　them。　Glinting　brown　opaquing　fields　swirled　into
being　on　either　side；　forming　a　solid；　buzzing　corridor　of　energy　that　divorced　us　from　our　surroundings。
Alain　von　Baigg　played　with　his　high　collar　distractedly　as　we　walked。　He　was　nervous。　The　oppressive　threat　of　the　palace　affected
even　its　own　servants。
LORD　RORKEN　AWAITED　us　in　his　private　chambers。　A　void　shield　dissipated　to　allow　us　through　the　circular　doorway　and　flickered
back　to　life　once　we　were　inside。　The　guards　did　not　accompany　us。　I　told　my　trio　to　wait　for　me　in　the　austere　vestibule　where　there
were　two　cast　iron　benches　piled　with　white　satin　bolsters。
I　went　in　through　the　inner　door。
I　had　come　wearing　black；　with　a　three…quarter　cloak　of　dark　brown　leather。　My　inquisitorial　crest　was　pinned　at　my　throat。　My
companions　were　all　formally　robed　too。　One　did　not　call　on　Master　of　the　Ordo　Xenos　in　casual　attire。
The　reception　chamber　was　dazzlingly　bright。　The　walls　were　mirrors；　framed　in　ormolu　gilt；　and　the　floor　was　a　polished　cream
marble。　Thousands　of　candles　burned　all　around；　on　stands；　on　forked　candelabras；　or　simply　placed　directly　on　the　floor。　The　mirrors
reflected　their　glare。　It　was　like　standing　in　a　prism　that　was　catching　golden　sunlight。
I　blinked；　and　raised　my　hand　to　shield　my　eyes。　I　saw　a　hundred　other　men　in　cloaks　do　the　same。　My　reflections。　Multiplied　Gregor
Eisenhorns；　framed　by　twinkling　candles。　I　saw　I　looked　edgy。
That　would　not　do。
'None　may　escape　the　penetrating　glare　of　the　Inquisition's　light；'　said　a　voice。
'For　to　do　so　means　perforce　they　embrace　the　outer　darkness；'　I　finished。
Rorken　strode　towards　me。　'You　know　your　Catuldynas；　Eisenhorn。'
'His　apopthegms　please　me。　I　have　never　much　liked　his　later　allegories。'
'Too　dry？'
'Too　arch。　Too　mannered。　For　my　taste；　Sathescine　has　a　superior　voice。　Less…　bombastic。'
Rorken　smiled　and　took　my　hand。　'So　you　rate　poetic　beauty　over　content？'
'Beauty　is　truth；　and　tram　beauty。'
He　raised　an　eyebrow。　'What　is　that？'
'A　pre…Imperial　fragment　I　once　read。　Anonymous。　As　to　your　first　question；　I　would　read　Sathescine　over　Catuldynas　for　pleasure；
and　insist　that　my　neophytes　read　Catuldynas　repeatedly　until　they　can　quote　it　as　well　as　I'
Rorken　nodded。　He　was　a　compact　man；　his　head　shaved　but　for　a　short　goatee；　and　he　wore　crimson　robes　over　black　clothes　and
gloves。　It　was　impossible　to　guess　his　age；　but　he　must　have　been　at　least　three　hundred　years　old；　for　he　had　held　his　high　office　for　a
century　and　a　half。　Thanks　to　augmentation　and　juvenatus　processes；　he　looked　like　a　man　in　his　late　forties。
'Can　I　offer　you　refreshment？'　he　asked。
'Thank　you；　no；　sir。　The　nunciature　has　organised　a　busy　schedule　for　me　through　the　Novena；　so　I　would　be　grateful　if　we　could　deal
with　things　directly。'
'The　Ministorum's　nuncios　have　set　busy　schedules　for　us　all。　The　Lord　Commander　has　charged　them　with　arranging　as　much　pomp
as　possible　for　this　celebration。　And　the　Gregor　Eisenhorn　I　know　won't　be　sticking　to　their　appointments　if　he　can　help　it。'
I　made　no　reply。　That　was　a　telling　remark。
I　became　wary。　Rorken　and　I　had　a　good　working　relationship；　and　I　felt　he　had　trusted　me　ever　since　the　affair　with　the　Necroteuch
ninety…eight　years　before。　Since　then　he　had　been　pleased　to　lead　me；　guide　me；　and　oversee　my　cases　personally。　But　one　did　not
become　anything　like　friends　with　the　Master　of　the　Ordo　Xenos　Helican。
'Have　a　seat。　You　can　spare　me　a　little　time；　I　think。'
We　sat　on　high…backed　chairs　either　side　of　a　low　table；　and　he　gave　me　chilled　water　imported　from　the　chalybeate　springs　of
Gidmos。
'A　restorative　tonic。　I　understand　the　Beldame　tested　you　hard　on　Lethe　Eleven。'
I　slid　a　data…slate　out　of　my　cloak。
'A　preliminary　draft　of　my　full　report；'　I　said；　handing　it　to　him。　He　took　it　and　put　it；　unread；　on　the　table。
'Do　you　know　why　I　have　asked　to　see　you？'
I　paused；　and　took　a　calculated　gamble。
'Because　of　the　stories　that　I　am　unsound。'
He　cocked　his　head　in　interest。　'You've　heard　them？'
'They've　been　brought　to　my　attention。　Recently。'

'Your　reaction？'
'In　all　honesty？　Puzzlement。　I　don't　know　the　matter　of　the　stories　themselves。　I　feel　someone　must　have　a　grudge。'
'Against　you？'
'Against　me　personally。'
He　sipped　his　water。　'Before　we　go　any　further；　I　must　ask　you…　Is　there　any　reason；　any　reason　at　all；　that　you　think　this　story　has
arisen？'
'As　I　said；　a　grudge　is　the—'
'No；'　he　said　quietly。　'You　know　what　I'm　asking　you。'
'I've　done　nothing；'　I　said。
'I'll　take　your　word　for　that。　If　at　a　later　time　I　discover　you're　lying；　or　even　hiding　something　from　me；　I　will…　be　displeased。'
'I　have　done　nothing；'　I　repeated。
He　steepled　his　hands　and　looked　out　across　the　sea　of　candles。　'Here　is　the　way　of　it。　An　inquisitor　…　who；　it　does　not　matter　…　reported
to　me　in　confidence　a　disturbing　encounter。　A　daemonhost　made　a　show　of　sparing　a　man's　life；　because　it　thought　he　was　you。'
I　was　fascinated　and　horrified　at　the　thought。
'I　am　not　able　to　confirm　it；　but　the　daemonhost　has　been　identified　as　Cherubael。'
Now　my　blood　ran　cold。　Cherubael。
'You've　had　no　contact　with　that　entity　since　56…Izar？'
I　shook　my　head。　'No；　sir。　And　that　was　almost　a　century　ago。'
'But　you've　been　looking　for　it　ever　since？'
'I've　made　no　secret　of　that；　sir。　Cherubael　is　the　agency　of　an　invisible　enemy；　one　whose　machinations　involved　even　a　member　of
our　Office。'
'Molitor。'
'Yes；　Konrad　Molitor。　I　have　spent　a　great　deal　of　time　and　effort　trying　to　uncover　the　truth　about　Cherubael　and　its　unseen　master；
but　it　has　been　fruitless。　Ten　decades；　and　only　the　barest　few　hints。'
'The　matter　of　Cherubael's　involvement　in　the　Necroteuch　affair　was　passed　to　the　Ordo　Malleus；　as　you　know。　They　too　have　failed　to
turn　up　a　trace　of　it。'
'Where　was　this　alleged　encounter？'
He　paused。　'Vogel　Passionata。'
'And　it　thought　it　was　sparing　me？'
'The　implication　was　the　daemonhos