A vast room. A forest of columns rose into the gloom. The ceiling was dark but for an opening high above. His heart leapt at the sight of that tiny square of blue sky. A shaft of sunlight shone down through this skylight onto the statue of a man in peasant's garb, his hands clasped together at his waist, looking beseechingly up at the light. Ward had heard of this statue, for it was famous, though few had ever seen it.

He now knew where he was: The Temple of Hatto. A forbidden place. None but Brothers were allowed inside. He had never heard of the catacombs beneath it, even from the Scowerers, who were master of the underground, and had rumours about everything.

The room seemed empty. He could see no way in or out of it, but there had to be one. The entrance probably lay out of sight behind the columns. Keeping close to the wall, he flitted across the room, stopping often to listen for movement.

He reached one corner of the room. He could see a rectangle of sunlight now, spilling into the room from outside: the entrance. Almost there. His heart hammering, he moved forward again, more slowly this time.

The opening was not the entrance to the Temple itself, but a doorway that led into a kind of antechamber. The entrance proper lay at the other end of this chamber, beneath a titanic lintel. It had no door. Nor did it need one: the punishment for crossing that threshold was death. Beyond, like a mirage, lay the dusty sunlit street. He saw no black cassocks through the doorway. No red coats. The carriages and pedestrians that moved up and down the street seemed unreal. It was so close. He had only to slip out. A year ago he would have done so without hesitation, but his time with the Scowerers had taught him much, and he slipped behind a column and watched the entrance, fighting the urge to run for it.

There was no inconspicuous way to exit the Temple. He looked nothing like a Brother. His only advantage was that people tended to avert their eyes from the temple door, as if by merely looking through it they might be accused of trespassing. The least conspicuous thing would be to just walk out. Then, if someone sounded the alarm, he would run.

He rose to his feet.

He had to force his legs to move towards the light. They seemed made out of wood. He had never been so conscious of the way his arms swung at his sides. Was this how people walked?

Now he was in the antechamber.

Now he was halfway to the entrance.

Now the lintel towered over his head, and he could hear the rumbling of carriages and the lusty shouts of drivers and the cries of birds, and he could see clouds scudding across the sky above the spires and tenements, and the dust that rose from the street and formed a corona around the sun, and the white eyes of horses, and the sweat that glistened on their flanks.

He stepped through the doorway – no, floated through it.

There was a moment of blissful freedom. He felt the sun kiss his cold skin. A couple of people looked up at him then looked fearfully away and hurried on. He had no time to wonder at this before the Reds who had been hiding on each side of the door pounced on him.

He went to the ground. A knee dug painfully into the small of his back, and his hands were forced together behind it. Hands searched him, starting at his collar and working down. A hand thrust itself into his pocket and pulled out the pouch containing the dice. He saw from the corner of his eye the pouch thrown to one of the other Reds. Then the hand was in his other pocket.

There was a sudden cry, and an oath, and Ward saw bright blood. Something small and brown flew out onto the road. Before any of the Reds could react, Fidelma had scuttled between their legs and vanished into the garden that grew along the front of the temple.

Ward craned his neck around to look, but the knee pressed down so hard he cried out. Then the Reds were dragging him to his feet. A coach pulled up and he was bundled into it. It was all over in seconds.

The last thing he saw before the coach door slammed shut was the front of the Temple, where two Brothers stood, watching calmly on.

Bugger.