Aparat finished his sermon. That was the signal for the end. The Pyrolater let the light grow stronger around me. It flickered and trembled unsteadily and finally went out as I lowered my hands. Well, now I knew who was on duty with David. I raised my gaze and looked grimly towards the cave. Harshou. He always got carried away. Three Pyrolaters had managed to come out alive from the battle at the Little Palace, but one had died a few days later from her wounds. Of the two who remained, Harshou was the strongest and the most unpredictable.

I stepped down from the platform, eager to get away from Aparat, but my foot slipped and I stumbled. The priest grabbed my arm to steady me. "Be careful, Alina Starkov. You are reckless with your safety." "Thank you," I said. I wanted to withdraw from his presence, to get away from the stench of dug earth and incense he always carried with him. "You don’t feel well today." "I’m just clumsy." We both knew that was a lie. I was stronger than the day I had come to the White Cathedral—my bones had healed, I managed to eat my meals without vomiting—but I was still vulnerable, my body tormented by pain and constant fatigue.