Such bravery! Even after all Drex has undergone, her first thought is still for the task ahead of us.

"This is Prioress Lizaveta's private chamber,” Drex whispered. “We'll catch her when she returns to put on her devotional robes."

Drex opened the door to reveal an empty room decked with glorious, tasteful brocades and tapestries.

"Come in, boys,” she said. “Don't be frightened of an old lady's boudoir."

Grimm and Guy did as they were bidden.

Grimm gazed in wonder at the room's splendour; not at all what he had expected of a nun's private apartments.

"I'll wait to the right of the door, Guy,” he declared. “You take the left."

Drex shook her head. “Not a good idea, Grimm; Lizaveta always sends at least two of the Score ahead of her before she enters, and they always check behind the door first. Let's hide in her inner sanctum; nobody dares enter there without her express permission.” She indicated the door with a grubby hand. “In there."

Grimm's hand was on the door handle almost before his rational brain had time to react; something about Drex's tone brooked no argument, and he felt almost helpless to resist her.

Grimm's suspicious, well-trained, Questor's mind shot a hot, warning message into his consciousness: Something's wrong here. I don't like thisThis is Drex! the emotional, uncontrolled portion of his brain snapped back. I'd trust her with my lifeHe spun around, startled, as he heard the door close with a bang behind him. In the doorway stood Drex, wearing a cool smile, and flanked by two grey-garbed nuns bearing staves. Behind them stood the unmistakable figure of Prioress Lizaveta, whose expression suggested a cat who had cornered a particularly tasty morsel.

Grimm felt a cold, jagged spear of horror lance through his body. His mouth moved, but he found himself incapable of speech or movement.