I just barely quashed a shudder of revulsion. “There’s really no one else?” I asked in as neutral a tone as I could manage.

Tipping her head to a side, Faith favored me with an elven smile and graciously allowed, “There are, I suppose, the rest of the Reconciled. I hear they include members of the City Council itself! If you really want, you can interview the Lords and Ladies Bowmore, Clelland, Dunvil, Penderyn, Rowan, and Strangford to figure out which ones are being possessed. That’s the sort of thing powerful nobles love, right? Why don’t you go talk to them while Ash and I stay here, sip coffee, and come up with conspiracy theories about the celebrated traitor Signy Anixis?”

While I sputtered into my “coffee,” Ash gave me a much more convincing reason for approaching the purveyor of soulless bodies. “Look, Isha, we need a patron who commands vast resources, detests the Church, and is willing to tangle with it. Outside of Nyryx, how many people do we know who fit all those criteria? How many people in Doskvol fit all those criteria?”

As much as I hated to admit it, he was right. Apart from forgotten god cultists and the Reconciled, Doskvolians generally embraced the Church for the fleshly ecstasies it enabled, or ignored it as a not-particularly-interesting part of their childhood sixth days. Although Irimina was engaged in activities “the Church would look down on,” her preference for keeping a low profile meant that she’d be no use in this affair. As for the cultists, they possessed resentment in plenty but lacked resources and, presumably, will, and while I could identify a different Reconciled to proposition, what was the point?

“Fine.” Having just traded my services for my crewmates’ aid in saving Iruvia, I couldn’t in good conscience back out, but I capitulated with much less grace than became a member of House Anixis. Mother would have been appalled.

As the three of us bundled up against a fine sleet, Faith sidled up to me and slanted a sidelong glance at my face. “I’m really glad we had a chance to talk at the bar last night, Isha,” she purred. “I don’t think you’ve ever opened up to me that much before.”

Ye gods, what had I said last night? My memories of the bar had even more holes than the lace trim around Faith’s neckline. Blushing fiercely, I glowered and opened my mouth to deliver a lecture on how she shouldn’t take advantage of revelations committed under the influence of hallucinogens (consumed on behalf of crew ventures, no less).

But she prattled on gaily, “For example, I never knew you loved my ruffles so much! When this score is over, I’ll take you shopping. You can meet my seamstress. We’ll design something extra special just for you!”

Yes, because Sigmund’s tastes in feminine fashion ran the gamut from tartan everything to knee-length, multi-tiered, frothy pink dresses with ginormous bows the size of – of suckers on a tentacled canal demon, say.

I startled Faith and Ash as much as myself when I burst into laughter.

Barely decent in a dirty red satin dress that bore an unfortunate resemblance to my attire last night, Nyryx was haunting her usual turf halfway down Catcrawl Alley in the Docks. Strange honks and wails from Captain Rye’s Menagerie almost drowned out her sultry voice as she draped herself over a barrel to display her cleavage and inquired suggestively, “What can I do for you today?”

“So many things – ” began Ash, who, in an even more unfortunate twist, was picking up Faith’s conversational habits.

Faith, naturally, was not to be outdone by her protégé. “Why, good morning, beautiful!” She beamed at the prostitute. “We are in need of your…services.”

Nyryx smirked back, savoring her role to the fullest. “Oooh,” she remarked, arching an eyebrow as she slowly scanned each of us up and down. “All three of you?”

Although I’d positioned myself a little behind my crewmates, Faith seized my arm and propelled me towards the Reconciled. “This girl here is a little shy, so you may need to be more gentle with her.”

I wrenched free with a murderous glare while Nyryx chuckled throatily.

Either Ash took pity on me or grew impatient at the waste of time (probably the latter), because he edged between Faith and me and announced, “Faith is succumbing to her base desires, but we came here for business.”

“That’s what I said too!” she protested, eyes wide with indignation.

Dispassionately, he replied, “Yes, but that’s not what you implied.”

“Thank you, Ash,” I muttered with feeling.

Nyryx just chuckled again and draped herself against the crumbling brick wall. One long-taloned – I meant fingered – hand propped on her hip, she regarded us expectantly.

Casting a final quelling look at Faith, Ash started to explain, “We have plans to disrupt a significant ritual – ”

“We want to murder a Church higher-up, but it’s going to take significant resources, so we’re looking for financial backing.” Faith cut to the chase with such shocking directness (which was probably why she deployed it) that she actually stunned Ash into silence.

Nyryx, however, matched her bluntness and then raised her some. “Okay. How much do you need?”

“Some of the reagents may be expensive but…six coin should be enough?” Faith suggested because Ash could launch into a bargaining session.

“Okay,” Nyryx agreed again, so readily that he looked dismayed.

However, his expression quickly changed when the Reconciled pushed off the wall and swayed towards us in a predatory manner, meeting and holding each of our eyes in turn. Reflected in her black irises were our tiny figures, surrounded by dancing electroplasmic flames as if we burned in the fires of U’Du, and I found that I couldn’t look away. Her painted scarlet mouth gaped wide, revealing a row of gleaming shark’s teeth inside her normal incisors. “Out of curiosity, who is it?” She leaned forward, as if ready to devour us in one gulp, and I could swear that her edges fuzzed a little, blurred by a bluish glow. “Is it Dunvil?” those red, red lips demanded. “You’re going to kill Dunvil, aren’t you? Gods, I’d pay eight coin for that!”

Still transfixed by that stare, I edged into the shelter of a stack of crates, and Ash took a step back, but Faith merely quirked her lips in a humorless smile. “I think killing Dunvil would cost a lot more than that, dear.”

“Would it, though? Would it?” Snapping back into her body, the Reconciled patted Faith’s cheek fondly and withdrew. “Because I think you’d do it for free.”

Off to the side, Ash made a noise of frustration at the digression. “To answer your question, Nyryx,” he said, stepping back up, “we’re planning to assassinate the target of the Ascension Day ritual. It could be Dunvil, but we have no way of determining that ahead of time.”

Nyryx gave Faith a long, hard look, which our Whisper returned with a perfectly innocent expression. “That would be a crippling blow for the Church,” the Reconciled allowed at last.

“To be entirely honest – and you know how much that hurts me,” Faith assured her, “our plan might not actually kill the target. It might just drive them mad. Or cause an explosion – that would be fun! Also, the Church may have been performing this ritual more recently of late, so I don’t know if they’re extending the….”

“Well, that’s disturbing,” interjected Nyryx, cutting off whatever information Faith was about to divulge.

With that, Ash agreed wholeheartedly. “Especially because they have been capturing and Hollowing innocent Tycherosi. Well, foolish Tycherosi, anyway,” he corrected himself.

“Of course they have been,” said Nyryx, eyeing her own Tycherosi body.

I spoke up for the first time at this meeting, hoping that if Faith wouldn’t answer my question, perhaps Nyryx would. “What exactly is the purpose of this ritual?”

Before the Reconciled could respond, Faith asked with malicious earnestness, “Well, you know how it’s called the Church of the Ecstasy of the Flesh?” Out of the corner of my eye, I observed Nyryx, who relaxed against the wall, as amused as a spectator at the animal fighting pits. “Isha, I’m honestly not sure I can explain the ritual and what it entails to you. Not after I saw your reaction earlier today, when your cheeks started blazing like the watchfires of a thousand suns, a beacon cutting through the Doskvolian night and giving away our location to anyone who might wander by!” With a wink at the others, she concluded, “The Church involves many delicious, delicious sins, and I’m not sure you are prepared to learn them.”

At that, a tiny frown creased the Reconciled’s forehead. “Wait, we are talking about the same ritual, right?”

In reply, Faith just threw her a naughty look.

Angling my body to cut her out of the conversation, I repeated doggedly, “What exactly is this ritual?”

Nyryx glanced past my shoulder at Faith, and whatever she saw there decided her. “Listen,” she said almost apologetically, “it’s really not my place. But anyway, I will definitely pay you eight coin to disrupt this. Whoever it is, I don’t want it to happen.”

Faith favored her with a beatific smile. “You are the most beautiful person I know.”

“Well.” Twirling a lock of coal-black hair through her fingers, the prostitute feigned maidenly coyness. “I have you to thank for it.”

Ash’s and my jaws dropped. On the tip of my tongue – and even more so on his, I was sure – hovered the fatal question, “Hollowed or not?”

But neither of us asked it.

Marshalling his mental resources, Ash said in a dazed sort of way, “Well, if that is all, I have a few things I need to discuss with Nyryx.” Alone, his tone implied. “Isha, shall I meet you at the Temple to surveil the cult of the Unbroken Sun? We have an adept we need to shave some motes off.”

“An adept you need to do what to?” asked Nyryx, startled.

“I did say that some of the reagents might be expensive,” Faith observed silkily.

After regarding us thoughtfully for a moment, Nyryx seemed to decide that it was better for everyone involved if she didn’t pry into our operations. With a curt nod, she said, “Well, I leave this in your capable hands.”

Giving Faith’s hands a very doubtful look (which, perversely, only made her preen), I echoed Ash’s wording and said, “Okay, but I need to take care of a few things first. I’ll meet you at the Temple this evening?”

Ash didn’t mind. “That’s fine. I need to pray anyway.”

Although I wanted to stay and eavesdrop on his conversation, Faith slipped her arm through mine and tugged me out of Catcrawl Alley. As we left, all I caught was Nyryx’s tantalizing, “I’m making good progress. I have a very solid lead…” before a strident bray from the Menagerie drowned out the rest of her words.