Gabriel awoke in feverish withdrawal to find Dior at his bed with a burlap-wrapped bundle. She revealed a mortar, pestle, foundry, hollyroot, redsalts, other reagents, and a dozen phials of dried blood—the exact kit needed to craft sanctus. Dior admitted she stole them from Madame Souris and the Night Market, showing a thief’s wallet of lockpicks and crowing that she was "clever as three cats." Despite the danger of robbing the Night Market, Gabriel focused on relief and began mixing hollyroot, redsalt, queensong, and blood, spreading the paste on the foundry plate to desiccate by the hearth.

As Gabriel waited, buoyed by the promise of a fix, he wrestled with haunting thoughts of Astrid’s warning and his reasons for leaving. Dior, lying on the mattress, needled him gently and then grew serious. She delivered a candid apology: she called him a drunk, addict, and bastard, yet acknowledged his honor for keeping his word after San Guillaume and saving her life. She attributed some of her harshness to her upbringing and apologized by name, "Gabriel de León." He reciprocated, addressing her properly as "Dior Lachance," and they shared a brief moment of mutual respect.

Dior then turned to practicalities, suggesting they outfit themselves for the cold north. Gabriel, fighting thirst and pain, said they should go to the keep and speak to the capitaine. When Dior assumed he meant traveling together to San Michon, Gabriel clarified he intended to find veteran soldiers to escort her—he would not continue with her himself. Dior, stunned, asked if he was leaving her; he insisted she would not be alone with an escort. The admission wounded Dior, drawing tears and prompting her to look at the scarred palms that mark her power.

Before they could continue, the door was smashed off its hinges. A dozen scarlet-clad soldiers flooded the room, cudgels in hand. Gabriel lunged for Ashdrinker but, weakened by thirst, was overwhelmed and beaten. Dior fought back, landing a brutal kick, but was also seized as cudgels fell. Footsteps announced the arrival of two black-leather-clad women with tricorns and veils, gauntleted right hands with clawed fingertips, and blood-red tabards bearing the flower and flail of Naél, Angel of Bliss—Inquisitors.

One inquisitor picked up Ashdrinker and praised the captors for doing the Almighty’s work. The second addressed two refugee sisters standing in the doorway—girls Dior and Gabriel had traveled with—who confirmed the arrest with a pious sign. Dior, betrayed, cursed them, reminding them she had saved their father’s life. An inquisitor struck Dior and called her a witch, saying the chase was over.

As Gabriel bled on the floor, he recognized the inquisitors as the same women who had previously confronted him, and they taunted him with promised hymns for heretics. The scene ended with the inquisitor’s boot crashing down, signaling their violent capture.