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are　lit　as　Darknight　begins；　and　the　population　stands　vigil　to　ensure　that　none　go　out　until　the　eclipse　ends。　Industry　is　suspended。
Leave　is　granted。　Riotous　carnivals　and　firelit　parades　spill　through　the　cities。　Licentiousness　and　law…breaking　are　rife。
Above　it　all；　the　dark　fire　of　the　eclipsed　sun　haloes　the　black　moon。　There　is　even　a　tradition　of　fortune…casting　grown　up　around　the
interpretation　of　the　corona's　form。
I　had　hoped　to　catch　the　Beldame　before　Darknight　began；　but　she　was　one　step　ahead　of　me。　Her　chief　poisoner；　Pye；　who　had
learned　his　skills　in　early　life　as　a　prisoner　of　the　renegade　dark　eldar；　so　the　story　went；　managed　to　plant　a　toxin　in　my　drinking　water
that　would　remain　inert　until　I　ingested　the　second　component　of　its　binary　action。
I　was　a　dead　man。　The　Beldame　had　killed　me。
My　savant；　Aemos；　accidentally　discovered　the　toxin　in　my　body；　and　was　able　to　prevent　me　from　eating　or　drinking　anything
further。　But　graceless　death　beckoned　me　inexorably。　My　only　chance　of　survival　was　to　capture　the　Beldame　and　her　vassal　Pye　and
extract　the　solution　to　my　doom　from　them。
Out　in　the　dark　streets　of　the　city；　my　followers　did　their　work。　I　had　eighty　loyal　servants　scouring　the　streets。　In　my　rooms　at　the
Hippodrome；　I　waited；　parched；　unsteady；　distant。
Ravenor　came　up　trumps。　Ravenor；　of　course。　With　his　promise；　it　wouldn't　be　long　before　he　left　the　rank　of　interrogator　behind　and
became　a　full　inquisitor　in　his　own　right。
He　found　Beldame　Sadia's　lair　in　the　catacombs　beneath　the　derelict　church　of　Saint　Kiodrus。　I　hurried　to　respond　to　his　call。
'You　should　stay　here；'　Bequin　told　me；　but　I　shook　her　off。
'I　have　to　do　this；　Alizebeth。'
Alizebeth　Bequin　was　by　that　time　one　hundred　and　twenty…five　years　old。　She　was　still　as　beautiful　and　as　active　as　she　had　been　in
her　thirties；　thanks　to　discreet　augmetic　surgery　and　a　regime　of　juvenat…drugs。　Framed　by　the　veil　of　her　starch…silk　dress；　her
handsome　face　and　dark　eyes　glared　at　me。
'It　will　kill　you；　Gregor；'　she　said。
'If　it　does；　then　it　is　time　for　Gregor　Eisenhorn　to　die。'
Bequin　looked　across　the　gloomy；　candlelit　room　at　Aemos；　but　he　simply　shook　his　ancient；　augmented　skull　sadly。　There　were
times；　he　knew；　when　there　was　simply　no　reasoning　with　me。
I　went　down　into　the　street；　where　canister　fires　blazed　and　masked　revellers　capered　and　caroused。　I　was　dressed　all　in　black；　with　a
floor　length　coat　of　heavy　black　leather。
Despite　that；　despite　the　flames　around　me；　I　was　cold。　Fatigue；　and　the　lack　of　nourishment；　were　eating　into　my　bones。
I　looked　at　the　moon。　Threads　of　heat　around　a　cold；　black　heart。　Like　me；　I　thought；　like　me。
A　carriage　had　been　called　for。　Six　painted　hippines；　snorting　and　bridled；　teamed　to　a　stately　landau。　Several　members　of　my　staff
waited　nearby；　and　hurried　forward　when　they　saw　me　emerge　onto　the　street。
I　assessed　them　quickly。　Good　people　all；　or　they　wouldn't　have　made　the　cut　to　be　here。　With　a　few　wordless　gestures　I　pulled　out
four　to　accompany　me　and　then　sent　the　rest　back　to　other　duties。
The　four　chosen　mounted　the　carriage　perial　Guardsman　from　Vladislav；　Arianrhod　Esw　Sweydyr；
the　swordswoman　from　Carthae；　and　Beronice　and　Zu　Zeng；　two　females　from　Bequin's　Distaff。

At　the　last　moment；　Beronice　was　ordered　out　of　the　carriage　and　Alizebeth　Bequin　took　her　place。　Bequin　had　quit　active　service　with
me　sixty…eight　standard　years　before　in　order　to　develop　and　run　her　Distaff；　but　there　were　still　times　she　didn't　trust　her　people　and
insisted　on　accompanying　me　herself。
I　realised　this　was　just　such　a　time　because　Bequin　didn't　expect　me　to　survive　and　wanted　to　be　with　me　to　the　end。　In　truth；　I　didn't
expect　to　survive　either。
The　carriage　started　off　with　a　whipcrack；　and　we　rambled　through　the　streets；　skirting　around　ceremonial　fires　and　torchlit
processions。
None　of　us　spoke。　Qus　checked　and　loaded　his　autocannon　and　adjusted　his　body　armour。　Arianrhod　drew　her　sabre　and　tested　the
cutting　edge　with　one　of　her　own　head　hairs。　Zu　Zeng；　a　native　of　Vitria；　sat　with　her　head　down；　her　long　glass　robes　clinking　with
the　carriage's　motion。
Bequin　stared　at　me。
'What？'　I　asked　eventually。
She　shook　her　head　and　looked　away。
The　church　of　Saint　Kiodrus　lay　in　the　waterfowlers'　district；　close　to　the　edge　of　the　city　and　the　vast；　lizard…haunted　salt…licks。　The
darkness　throbbed　with　insect　rhythms。
The　carriage　stopped　in　a　street　of　blackly　rotting　stone　pilings；　two　hundred　metres　short　of　the　church's　wrecked　silhouette。　The　sky
was　amber　darkness。　Behind　us；　the　city　was　alive　with　bright　points　of　fire。　The　neighbourhood　around　us　was　a　dead　ruin；　slowly
submitting　to　the　salty　hunger　of　the　marshes。
'Talon　wishes　Thorn；　rapturous　beasts　within；'　Ravenor　said　over　the　vox…link。
'Thorn　impinging　multifarious；　the　blades　of　disguise；'　I　responded。　My　throat　was　dry　and　hoarse。
'Talon　observes　moment。　Torus　pathway　requested；　pattern　ebony。'
'Pattern　denied。　Pattern　crucible。　Rose　thorn　wishes　hiatus。'
'Confirm。'
We　spoke　using　Glossia；　an　informal　verbal　code　known　only　to　my　staff。　Even　on　an　open　vox…channel；　our　communications　would
be　impenetrable　to　the　foe。
I　adjusted　my　vox…unit's　channel。
'Thorn　wishes　aegis；　to　me；　pattern　crucible。'
'Aegis　arising；'　Betancore；　my　pilot；　responded　from　far　away。　'Pattern　confirmed。'
My　gun…cutter；　with　its　fabulous　firepower；　was　now　inbound。　I　looked　to　the　others　in　the　shadows　as　I　drew　my　weapon。
'Now　is　the　time；'　I　told　them。
WE　EDGED　INTO　the　gloomy；　slime…swathed　ruins　of　the　church。　There　was　a　heady　stink　of　wet　corruption　in　the　air　and　sheens　of　salt
clung　to　every　surface。　Clusters　of　maggot…like　worms　ate　into　the　stones；　and　flinched　back　as　the　fierce　beams　of　our　flashlights
found　them。
Qus　ran　point；　his　autocannon　swinging　from　side　to　side；　hunting　targets　with　the　red　laser　rangefinder　that　projected　from　the　corner
of　his　bionically　enhanced　left　eye。　He　was　a　stocky　man；　rippling　with　muscle　under　his　harness　of　ceramite　armour。　He　had　painted
his　blunt　face　in　the　colours　of　his　old　regiment；　the　90th　Vladislavan。
Arianrhod　and　I　tailed　him。　She'd　dulled　her　sabre's　blade　with　brick　dust　but　still　it　hooked　the　light　as　she　turned　it　in　her　hands。
Arianrhod　Esw　Sweydyr　was　well　over　tan　woman　I　have　ever　met；　though　such　stature　is
common　amongst　the　people　of　far　away　Carthae。　Her　long…boned　frame　was　clad　in　a　leather　bodysuit　embossed　with　bronze　studs；
over　which　she　wore　a　long；　tasselled　cloak　of　patchwork　hide。　Her　silver　hair　was　plaited　with　beads。　The　sabre　was　called
Barbarisater　and　had　been　carried　by　women　of　the　Esw　Sweydyr　tribe　for　nineteen　generations。　From　the　braided　grip　to　the　tip　of　the
curved；　engraved　blade；　it　measured　almost　a　metre　and　a　half。　Long；　lean；　slender；　like　the　woman　who　wielded　it。　Already　I　could
sense　the　vibration　of　the　psychic　energies　she　was　feeding　into　it。　Woman　and　blade　had　become　one　living　thing。
Arianrhod　had　served　with　my　staff　for　five　years；　and　I　was　still　learning　the　intricacies　of　her　martial　prowess。　Ordinarily　I'd　be
noting　every　detail　of　her　combat　trance　methods；　but　I　was　too　fatigued；　too　drawn　out　with　hunger　and　thirst。
Bequin　and　Zu　Zeng　brought　up　the　rear；　side　by　side；　Bequin　in　a　long　black　gown　with　a　ruff　of　black　feathers　around　the　shoulders；
and　Zu　Zeng　in　her　unreflective　robes　of　Vitrian　glass。　They　stayed　back　far　enough　so　the　aura　of　their　psychic　blankness　would　not
conflict　with　the　abilities　of　Arianrhod　or　myself；　yet　close　enough　to　move　forward　in　defence　if　the　time　came。
The　Inquisition　…　and　many　other　institutions；　august　or　otherwise　…　has　long　been　aware　of　the　usefulness　of　untouchables；　those　rare
human　souls　who　simply　have　no　psionic　signature　whatsoever　and　thus　disrupt　or　negate　even　the　most　strenuous　psychic　attack。
When　I　met　her　on　Hubris；　a　century　before；　Alizebeth　Bequin　had　been　the　first　untouchable　I　had　ever　encountered。　Despite　her
unnerving　presence　…　even　non…psykers　find　untouchables　difficult　to　be　around　…　I　had　added　her　to　my　staff　and　she　had　proved　to　be
invaluable。　After　many　years　of　service；　she　had　retired　t