He thought about Wolf. And he thought about Harald Kleindeinst, wondering if he had done the right thing by setting the watchman on the trail.

It was too late to step back.

In an hour, he would join the von Liebewitzes and venture out into the fog.

Perhaps there would be answers out there.

They were waiting for him at the Wayfarer's Rest. He had been delayed by the business with Joost Rademakers. Dickon was being stupid and would suffer for it later. He should have known that Rademakers on his own wouldn't have a chance against Filthy Harald. The captain always had underestimated him.

The whole city was going mad in this fog. The Luitpoldstrasse Station had been snowed under with bleeding citizens, complaining of assaults, robberies and arson. Harald had seen three Knights Templars roughing up a couple of Fish and left them to it. There were Imperial Militiamen hanging around with the watch, getting in the way.

Dickon had sent a runner to the fire-fighters, to help with the burning carriages in the Street of a Hundred Taverns, but he had either got lost, got killed or found the fire service busy elsewhere.

He could tell straight away that Rosanna and Elsaesser had news for him.

'Out with it,' he said. 'Elsaesser, speak slowly, no repetitions, no gabble.'

'Trudi Ursin's missing boyfriend is Wolf Mecklenberg'

'Von Mecklenberg,' put in Rosanna.

'The elector's brother.'

Harald bit down hard on the nugget, to see how it tasted. It wasn't good.

'But the baron was interested in the Beast before Trudi turned up dead,' he reasoned. 'Which suggests that he knows something we don't.'

'There's more,' said the scryer. 'It's common knowledge that the baron's brother was abducted as a child, by Chaos knights'

'It was a bandit called Cicatrice,' said Elsaesser. 'I'd heard the story, but never made the connection'

'Wolf was rescued,' explained Rosanna, 'and purged of the warp-stone. But maybe there's still something inside.'

Harald imagined a young man in a frenzy, tearing at a girl with claws and teeth.

'Scryer, is Wolf the Beast?' he asked.

She thought hard, not wanting to say anything until she was certain.

'I'll put it this way: do you think he's the Beast?'

'It's it's not impossible. I've been through some of his clothes, trying to find traces. He has an aura of violence, of confusion. Also, he suffers from terrible guilt.'

'But that doesn't make him our killer?'

'No,' she admitted. 'There are a lot of violent people in this city.'

She was looking at him. There was still a splash of Rademakers's blood on his coat.

'That's true,' he said.

'What should we do?' asked Elsaesser.

'You take Baron Johann,' he ordered. 'Get over to the palace and stick to him like a lashworm in case his brother shows up. Tell him I've sent you for his own protection. Make up some story. Convince him that there's a rumour going around that he's the killer and the vigilantes are after him. That's probably true. There are rumours going around that everyone's the killer. Dickon is trying to convince the Hooks that it's me, and hopes they'll put me out of the way.'

Elsaesser saluted.

'Rosanna,' Harald continued, 'you stick with me. We'll try and find this Wolf of yours. He may not be the killer, but he's certainly got some questions to answer.'

'He's a Leaguer,' Elsaesser said. 'You could start at their hall. It's not far.'

'Also,' said Rosanna, 'he's on weirdroot. He might be trying to buy some of the stuff.'

'That's something to start with.'

Elsaesser pulled on his peaked cap and left.

'Lad,' Harald said after him, 'be careful.'

The officer said, 'I will be,' and left.

Harald felt the aches of his fight with Rademakers disappearing. The old copper feeling was coming back. It wasn't just nausea, it was a tightness in the pit of his stomach that he recognized as excitement.

'You want him, don't you?' said the scryer.

'Yes, I do.'

'Dead or alive?'

'Either way, Rosanna. Just so long as we stop him, I don't care.'

'Dead, then.'

'That's safest, I admit.'

'Dead, yes. I agree. Dead.'

'Selecting your sword, viscount?'

There was a perfume in the air that he recognized. Knowing he was in for a tedious scene, Leos ran a chamois leather along the edge of his blade and turned to pay attention.

'Dany,' he said, pointing at a comely throat with the foil, 'do not overestimate your importance in the order of things.'

The favourite pouted, ringlets shaking.

'Testy this evening, aren't we?'

'I have to go out.'

'With the countess? You are much in her company.'

The sword point did not shake. It was fixed in the air. He was still in perfect condition, the muscles of his shoulders, arms and legs gave him pleasure as he stretched, extending his steel. Von Tuchtenhagen's champion hadn't strained him at all.

'I could kill you, you know. Quite easily.'

'But would that be honourable?'

'Honour is a matter for gentlemen. Between us, it's different.'

Dany laughed, a girlish giggle, and brushed Leos's sword away.

'It certainly is, dearest.'

Leos scabbarded his blade and felt its weight on his hip. With his weapon in place, he felt whole again.

'You killed this morning?'

'Twice.'

'Did it give you an appetite?'

Dany tried to kiss him, but he pushed the favourite away.

'Not now.'

'Temper, temper. You know, Leos, when you are angry I can quite see the quality in you that made poor Clothilde of Averheim swoon so dramatically. I hear the little fool is ruined for all other men after your callous treatment of her. Such a shame. Hot little bitch too, I'd heard. The young men of her city must curse you in their prayers.'

'Dany, you can be extraordinarily tiresome at times.'

'I thought I had a certain degree of license. After all, I am an intimate of the family.

Leos felt the killing chill in his heart.

'You're sailing into choppy waters, Dany. You might well encounter the odd wreck.'

'Wrecks by the name of the Graf von Tuchtenhagen, or the Bassanio Bassarde, or what were the other names?'

'You know them as well as I do.'

'Not quite as well. Mo one ever forgets their kills.'

Dany was playing with silk handkerchiefs, running fingers under them, examining the shifting patterns.

'My sister has tired of you, you know,' Leos said, spitefully. 'She has a more important admirer.'

'Bitch,' spat Dany.

Leos gave one of his rare laughs. 'Hurts, doesn't it? Have you met the current paramour? Very distinguished, they say, and highly influential. Between them, the countess and he could decide the fate of the Empire.'

Dany made a fist, crumpling silk.

'Before von Tuchtenhagen and Bassarde, I had to kill others. You are right. I remember the names: Cleric-Captain Voegler of the Order of the Fiery Heart, young von Rohrbach, even a commoner or two, Peder Novak, Karoli Vares'

Dany tried to counterfeit a lack of fear.

'It's a long list. Perhaps my sister provokes too many insults for her own good. But many of them were quite close to her at one time or another. The ways of her heart are unpredictable.'

The favourite looked away.

'And so, Dany my dear, are the ways of mine.'

Leos took the favourite's shoulders and turned a pretty face around to look into his eyes. Dany's pupils were contracting, a sign of over-fondness for weirdroot.

'Aren't my hands strong, Dany dear?'

Leos forced his mouth against Dany's and kissed him. The viscount tasted the favourite's fear.

'Maybe you won't be the favourite much longer?'

Dany broke away and wiped his mouth with his silk, spitting into it. He had been shaking, but now his confidence was coming back.

'I'll never duel with you, Leos,' he said.

Leos smiled. 'And I'll never ask you.'

'After all,' Dany said bitterly, 'now the countess has done with me, it is not as if I lacked for female company?'

The favourite smiled.

'And my girlfriend's name is still von Liebewitz.'

Leos backhanded Dany across the mouth, rouging his lips with blood.

'You should be more careful; family favourite. If it ever entered your head to tell what you know, or what you think you know, you would be dead before the first story crept out of your mouth. Remember that.'

Dany slunk away and flung himself face-down upon the bed. He was not crying out loud.

Leos finished dressing. Johann would be waiting at the coach. Emmanuelle would be late, as usual.

Leos was interested in spending some time alone with the Elector of Sudenland. The man had a mysterious, attractive air.

And he was after something.

V.