She shook her head. “But it is so incongruous. May it surprise you to know that the priests would have us believe you are undead men created by alchemy ...?” She smiled wanly. “And while I have taught my students to reject such superstition, I cannot believe you are simply chosen by Lottery the same as everyone else.”
“We have felt the black coin in our palms, madam, I assure you, most of us at a tender age. I was fortunate to be taken at thirteen by Asmodeus himself, then a young ferryman, after which I knew my parents no more.”
She stared at him intensely as a chill crept up her spine. “But ... your eyes. Your skin ...” She tried to look away from him but found she could not.
“The result of ritalimortis injection after becoming a brownie.” He turned to face her. “A ferryman’s apprenti
