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our time gazing out at the living and being happy for your continued life, you know. Can you imagine how frustrating that would be?’
    ‘We need Denser,’ said Sol.
    ‘Then it is fortunate that Denser is here already.’
    Sol turned. Denser was walking around the bar, Diera following him. She was wringing her hands and had obviously been crying. He looked much as ever: frowning, severe and with the cares of the world on his shoulders.
    ‘Pull up a chair. Diera will furnish you with a goblet, I’m sure,’ said Sol.
    He tried to catch her eye but she would not humour him. Instead she walked behind the bar and stooped to get a goblet for Denser.
    ‘I’m here because Diera believes you have finally taken complete leave of your senses.’
    Denser sat next to Sol and stared at the merchant, nodding minutely.
    ‘But you don’t think so, Denser. Do you?’ said Sol.
    ‘It is hard to know what to believe.’ Denser glanced over at Diera. She was watching, listening, reluctant it seemed to come closer. ‘Your wife was very upset. She didn’t say much about why, just that you had caved in, just like she feared you would.’
    Denser sucked his lip and turned to glare at Hirad.
    ‘You know, I don’t appreciate total strangers grinning at me like they’ve known me all my life,’
    ‘Don’t you recognise me, Denser?’
    ‘No. I would have thought that was obvious.’
    Sol found himself smiling and tried to cover it.
    ‘Well, it’s no surprise,’ said Hirad. ‘This isn’t my original body after all. But I have to be honest, Xetesk-man, the years haven’t been kind.’
    Denser gaped. ‘What?’
    ‘Beard’s gone grey, you’re looking a bit paunchy in the cheeks and you’re probably bald under that skullcap. Mind you, I see you’ve been promoted. Congratulations. Good to see you finally made something of yourself.’
    Hirad pointed at the embossed bronze circle on the front of Denser’s skullcap, which denoted his position as Lord of the Mount of the College of Xetesk.
    Denser’s eyes had narrowed and his cheeks were pointed with red.
    ‘Clearly, you’re angling for a matching wound on your right-hand side. Who is this cretin, Sol?’
    ‘You ought to recognise the lack of tact if nothing else,’ replied Sol. ‘This is Hirad. Or rather, Hirad’s soul in the body of a dead merchant. ’
    ‘God’s falling, it’s pathetic,’ muttered Diera from the bar. ‘See what I mean, Denser?’
    But Denser didn’t hear her. He was staring at Hirad, one hand absently scratching at his beard.
    ‘It is technically possible, you see,’ he said as if to himself. ‘How are you doing it? Is the heart beating?’
    ‘Not yet,’ said Hirad. ‘If it was, I’d die again, pushing blood out of this wound.’
    ‘Well, we can soon fix that. Tell me how it works?’
    ‘One soul leaves, another enters. Mine in this case. I was attracted to the body and filled it. I don’t know how. Ilkar probably does. But it isn’t too badly damaged or sick inside so I can hang on. Just about. But it hurts. I can make it move as if it were my own. But I need to get the heart to beat soon or Ilkar says I’ll decompose.’
    ‘Bloody hell, you smelled bad enough when you were alive,’ said Denser.
    Hirad chuckled. ‘This body is altogether more fragrant.’
    Denser stretched out a hand and felt Hirad’s neck for a pulse.
    ‘Amazing,’ he muttered.
    ‘Are you all right, Denser?’ Sol put a hand on Denser’s arm.
    ‘You see, the thing is,’ said Denser, ‘I’ve got about fifty reports from around the city of dead people walking and talking. That’s just in the last day or so. It’s making people nervous, as you can imagine. And there’s something a little closer to home too. I’ve got a five-year-old girl up at the Mount claiming she’s Erienne.’

Chapter 4
     
     
     
     
     
    The heat intensified still further. Steam billowed under the canopy. The orange glow of fire stretched in a broad arc east to west. Thick dust blew