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‘Now, to business,’ Jaxon said. ‘In the years after I escaped Oxford, I lost myself in the stories of the ancients, trying to understand what I had seen. I devoured tales of angels and giants, demigods and demons, mortals touched by the divine. And so the first part of my theory was born. What if some of those stories – perhaps all – were inspired by the Rephaim?’

‘You think they’ve been visiting Earth for that long?’

‘A bold idea, I know.’

‘If you do say so yourself.’

He let me think without comment.

‘The Mothallath did come here before the civil war,’ I said. ‘There are Irish stories that remind me of the Rephs. Like the ones about Tír na nÓg, the Otherworld.’

‘Many cultures have tales of at least one such place – an underworld or a heaven, populated by the dead, or by deities. Some of those deities are chthonic,’ Jaxon remarked. ‘Could they have stemmed from knowledge of the Netherworld?’

‘Does it matter?’

‘It might. When I was her tenant, Nashira told me about the ethereal threshold and the Mothallath family. I imagine Arcturus told you the same. The Mothallath committed some unspeakable transgression, rending the veils. Whatwasthat transgression, do we think?’

‘Only they knew.’

‘But it had consequences. And there may be more to come.’ He turned to face me. ‘In several of the stories I unearthed, there is a catastrophic event that ends life on Earth, sometimes destroying both humans and gods. What if those were glimpses of the future?’

‘Another catastrophic event, you mean?’

‘The circumstances appear ripe for it.’

If the Netherworld can fall, so can Earth.

‘I think you might be seeing what you want to see,’ I said. ‘You’re cherry-picking the stories that fit your theory.’

‘The æther only ever sends us slivers of the truth. It is up to us to fit them together,’ Jaxon said. ‘The Mothallath are gone. If I am right, and the end is nigh, who will come to save us?’

‘I imagine you’ve already put yourself forward,’ I said. ‘You always did have delusions of grandeur, Jax.’

‘A little rich, coming from you.’

‘I took the Rose Crown because you gave me no choice, as well you know.’

‘All you had to do was wait, and you would have seen my plans to unite London and Rome.’

‘Forgive me for not blindly trusting you.’

‘You are forgiven.’ He kept walking. ‘We voyants share a connection with the Rephaim. It cannot be coincidence that we can touch the æther, as they can. When they declare their presence on Earth – or when their presence is revealed, against theirwill – it will be vital for us to ally with them, for protection and authority. Far more amaurotics will look unkindly on us then. The Ranthen are too few and weak to matter. So it must be the Suzerain.’

‘I’m not working with Nashira.’

‘Your fondness for Arcturus is your fatal flaw.’

‘It’s not about Arcturus. Nashira oversaw the conquest of Ireland, if you’d forgotten. She’s a tyrant.’

‘That was Gomeisa Sargas, to my knowledge. Perhaps Nashira would cease her tyranny if she felt she had nothing to fear from clairvoyants.’

‘You really are off the cot if you think Nashira is a good bet. Stop licking her shiny boots and screw your head on straight, Jaxon. She’s never going to see you as an equal.’

‘And you believe the Ranthen do?’

‘I believe we share a common purpose,’ I said. ‘Why don’t you go back to Nashira now, if you love her so much?’

‘Because she has sentenced me to death. But I do hope, one day, to bring her around.’