‘Sechul Lath, then?’
‘And Errastas, yes.’
‘So, Sechul Lath casts the die, and Errastas nudges the last tip – the game is rigged, friend.’
‘Just the way they like it, yes.’
‘Will you still play?’
Silchas looked thoughtful, and then he sighed. ‘They consider themselves masters at cheating. But then, I think this will be the first time that they sit at a table with mortal humans facing them. Cheating? When it comes to that, the Elder Gods are as children compared to humans. Since the time of my return, this much at least I have learned.’
‘The game is in danger of being turned?’
Silchas glanced across at him, and grinned. ‘I think … yes: just watch, Tulas. Just watch.’
In the scabbard, the sword gurgled. Laughter or, Tulas mused, choking.
‘My friend, how did you come by that weapon?’
‘A gift.’
‘From whom? Are they mad?’
‘Shadow.’
Tulas found he had nothing to say. Struck speechless, as the fire tellers used to say. Grimacing, he struggled, desperate to voice a warning – anything.
Silchas glanced over. ‘Not Edgewalker, Tulas.’
Edge— No, it cannot be – he could not have – oh, wonders of the Abyss! His voice cracked when at last he managed to speak. ‘I forgive him.’
Silchas frowned across at him. ‘Who?’
‘Your brother,’ Tulas replied in a broken rasp. ‘I forgive him – for all of it – for my anger, now proved so … so misplaced. Gods below, Silchas! He spoke true! But – how? How did he manage it?’
Silchas was still frowning. ‘I don’t understand, Tulas. How did he manage what?’
Tulas stared at Silchas Ruin. A moment’s disbelief, but then he shook his head. He said nothing, then, not even to his beloved brother. He was true to his word. He held the secret close and not once yielded a single word, not a single hint – else it would be known by now. It would be known!
‘Tulas?’
‘I forgive him, Silchas.’
‘I – I am so pleased. I am … humbled, friend. You see, that day, I remain convinced that it was not as it seemed—’
‘Oh, indeed, it was not.’
‘Can you explain, then?’
‘No.’
‘Tulas?’
They had halted. The sun was low on the horizon, painting the northern ice lurid shades of crimson. The midges whined in agitated clouds.
Tulas sighed. ‘To tell you, my friend, would be to betray his last secret. I forgive him, yes, but I already fear that he would not forgive me, if he could. For my words. My rage. My stupidity. If I now yield his last secret, all hope for me is lost. I beg you to understand.’
Silchas Ruin’s smile was tight. ‘My brother had a secret he kept even from me?’
‘From everyone.’
‘Everyone but you.’
‘It was to me that he vowed to say nothing, ever.’
The Tiste Andii’s eyes narrowed. ‘A secret as dangerous as that?’
‘Yes.’
Silchas grunted, but it was a despairing sound. ‘Oh, my friend. Does it not occur to you that, with a secret as deadly as you seem to suggest, my brother would do all he needed to to prevent its revelation?’
‘Yes, that has occurred to me.’
‘Including killing you.’
Tulas nodded. ‘Yes. You may have explained my demise. Your brother murdered me.’ And to complete the deception, he helped his brother look for me.
‘But—’
‘Still, Silchas, I forgive him. Between your brother and me, after all, I had clearly announced myself the unreliable one. I know it is difficult for you to accept that he would keep this from you—’
Silchas barked a laugh. ‘Dawn’s fire, Tulas, you are out of practice. I was being ironic. My brother kept things from me? Hardly a revelation to crush me underfoot. Anomander had many lessons to give me about pride, and, finally, a few of them have stuck.’
‘The world is vast yet—’
‘—truths are rare. Just so.’
‘And,’ Tulas added, ‘as the whores whispered about you, a man of giant aspirations but tiny capacities.’
‘Tell me, Prince Puke of the Eleint, shall I introduce you to this Hust blade?’
‘Best save that line for the next whore you meet, Silchas.’
‘Ha! I will!’
‘Prince Silchas of the Laughing Cock. Could be a while before we find a—’
‘Wrong, friend. We go to meet the biggest whore of them all.’
Tulas felt dried skin rip open as he laid bare his teeth. ‘T’iam. Oh, she won’t like that title, not one bit.’
‘Mother’s sake, Tulas. Irony!’
‘Ah,’ he nodded after a moment. ‘Yes. After all, if she’s a whore, then that makes all of us Soletaken—’
‘Makes us all whorespawn!’
‘And this amuses you?’
‘It does. Besides, I can think of no better line with which to greet her.’
‘Silchas, a lone Hust blade? Now you are too bold. An entire legion went out to do battle with her, and did not return.’
‘Yes they died, Tulas, but they did not fail.’
‘You said, a gift from Shadow?’
‘Yes. But not Edgewalker.’
‘Then who?’
‘He is pompous in his title. A new god. Shadowthrone.’
Shadowthrone. Ahh, not as pompous as you might think. ‘Do not underestimate him, friend.’
‘You warn me against someone you have never met?’
‘I do.’
‘What gives you cause to do so?’
Tulas pointed down at the scabbarded sword. ‘That.’
‘I will admit to some unease, friend.’
‘Good.’
‘Shall I show you the dragon-patterned welding?’
Oh dear.
Father?
The scene was murky, stained like an old painting, yet the figure looked up from the chair he was slumped in. Tired eyes squinted in the gloom. ‘If this is a dream, Rud … you look well, and that is good enough for me.’
Where are you?
Udinaas grimaced. ‘She’s a stubborn one, as bad as me. Well, not quite.’
The home of Seren Pedac. Then … Silchas judged rightly. You went to her. For help.
‘Desperation, Rud. Seems to be driving my life these days. And you, are you well?’
My power grows, Father. Blood of the Eleint. It scares me. But I can reach you now. You are not dreaming. I am unharmed.
Udinaas rubbed at his face, and he looked old to Ryadd’s eyes, a realization that triggered a pang deep inside. His father then nodded. ‘The Imass are in hiding, north of the city. A forest abandoned by the Teblor. It is perilous, but there’s no choice. I comfort myself with the thought of these ancient people, ancestors of us all, perhaps, crouching unseen in the midst of humanity. If this is possible, then so are many other unlikely possibilities, and perhaps the world is not as empty as we think we have made it.’
Father, Kilava sent you away because she will not resist the sundering of the gate.
Udinaas looked away. ‘I suspected something like that.’
She’s already given up—
‘Rud, I think it was her desire all along. In fact, I do not think Kettle’s mortal wounding came from the other side of Starvald Demelain. The Azath was young, yes, but strong. And with the Finnest of Scabandari, well – do you remember our confidence? But then, suddenly, something changed …’
Ryadd thought about that, and felt a surge of anger building within him. That was wrong, he said.
‘She pushed the Imass back into the world of the living—’
That was a living world!
‘It was a dream, doomed to go round and round and never change. In the eyes of nature, it was an abomination. But listen, Rud’ – and he leaned forward – ‘Onrack loves her still. Do nothing rash. Leave her be.’