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‘Hmm! Gotta be honest, pal. Was really hopin’ you hadn’t noticed that.’

‘You’ve never been known for your subtlety.’

‘Eheh! True! But look. Guy’s a traitor. He’s the mastermind behind this entire operation to kill me.’

‘The entire operation? All of Blacksong?’

‘Oh, I don’t know about all. But this part of it, certainly. Admitted it to me himself, when we had a nice little heart-to-heart of our own. Not unlike the one you and I are having right now, actually.’

That piqued Dozer’s curiosity. ‘Germal can access this space? I do not sense him here.’

‘No, no, it was a different thing. Similar, but different. More hostile, too. Guy really hates my guts. And he might be an ancient Primordial, too. Or possessed by one, maybe. Tough to say for sure. He IS the Liar of Lyste, after all.’

Possessed? Hmm. Now that was an intriguing little revelation. The leader of the Freemen Fellowship, possessed by one of the so-called Primordials?

Questions pooled in his mind as he humored the possibility. Germal had indeed always been something of a curiosity, ever since appearing before him and Gohvis as a sickly child all those years ago. Dozer recalled Gohvis mentioning the child’s oddness many times. The split personality, among other things.

And naturally, Dozer had experienced his own strangeness with Germal, as well. The man’s ability to charm people was certainly no normal thing. The immense utility of it was why he’d allowed Germal to form his little Fellowship in the first place. And it had proved plenty useful, too.

‘If he is a traitor as you say,’ said Dozer, ‘then it is my responsibility to deal with him, not yours.’

‘Oh, believe you me: this is one responsibility I don’t mind unburdening you from, my friend. He needs to die. As soon as possible. And I’m going to make sure that happens.’

‘You do not appear to be doing a very good job of that so far.’

‘Hoho! Now you’re TRYIN’ to piss me off, aren’tcha?!’

‘You have been fighting for many days now, and he yet lives. Do you require my help?’

‘Hah...’ Morgunov fell briefly quiet. ‘And here I was, tryin’ to be nice to you. Tryin’ to keep things light. Pleasant. Tryin’ to not hate you. So why ya gotta say stuff like that, huh? Why can’t you just be a little courteous, instead of slappin’ my hand away whenever I reach out, hmm? What, are you just too broken inside, old man? Can’t allow us to share a nice moment, every now and then?’