"We signed a contract with the Ferryman," Shito said, shrugging. "We work for him, sending illegal zombies on to the afterlife, and he pays us for our work. When we pay off the loan on our soul, we'll be alive again and able to move on with our lives."

He looked around with more interest now, trying to make some sense of the chaos. Could one see memories if you looked into these colours? Maybe only Karakael could make sense of it.