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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