L’oric closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the damp stone wall. ‘Deragoth. What happened to them? Why are they here and not there?’
‘I don’t know. Probably it had something to do with the violent collapse of the First Empire.’
‘What warren is this?’
‘Not a warren at all, L’oric. A memory. Soon to end, I believe, since it is… shrinking. Fly northward and by day’s end you will see before you a wall of nothingness, of oblivion.’
‘A memory. Whose memory?’
Osric shrugged. ‘Raraku’s.’
‘You make that desert sound as if it is alive, as if it is an entity.’
‘Isn’t it?’
‘You’re saying it is?’
‘No, I’m not saying that. I was asking you-have you not just come from there?’
L’oric opened his eyes and regarded his father. You are a frustrating man. No wonder Anomander Rake lost his temper . ‘What of those half-humans that ran with these Deragoth?’
‘A quaint reversal, wouldn’t you say? The Deragoth’s only act of domestication. Most scholars, in their species-bound arrogance, believe that humans domesticated dogs, but it may well have been the other way round, at least to start. Who ran with whom?’
‘But those creatures aren’t humans. They’re not even Imass.’
‘No, but they will be, one day. I’ve seen others, scampering on the edges of wolf packs. Standing upright gives them better vision, a valuable asset to complement the wolves’ superior hearing and sense of smell. A formidable combination, but the wolves are the ones in charge. That will eventually change… but not for those serving the Deragoth, I suspect.’
‘Why?’
‘Because something is about to happen. Here, in this trapped memory. I only hope that I will be privileged to witness it before the world fades entirely.’
‘You called the Deragoth “Hounds of Darkness”. Are they children of Mother Dark, then?’
‘They are no-one’s children,’ Osric growled, then he shook his head. ‘They have that stench about them, but in truth I have no idea. It just seemed an appropriate name. “Deragoth” in the Tiste Andu tongue.’
‘Well,’ L’oric muttered, ‘actually, it would be Dera’tin’jeragoth.’
Osric studied his son. ‘So like your mother,’ he sighed. ‘And is it any wonder we could not stand each other’s company? The third day, always by the third day. We could make a lifetime of those three days. Exaltation, then comfort, then mutual contempt. One, two, three.’
L’oric looked away. ‘And for your only son?’
Osric grunted. ‘More like three bells.’
Climbing to his feet, L’oric brushed dust from his hands. ‘Very well. I may require your help in opening the path back to Raraku. But you might wish to know something of the Liosan and Kurald Thyrllan. Your people and their realm have lost their protector. They pray for your return, Father.’
‘What of your familiar?’
‘Slain. By T’lan Imass.’
‘So,’ Osric said, ‘find yourself another.’
L’oric flinched, then scowled. ‘It’s not as easy as that! In any case, do you hold no sense of responsibility for the Liosan? They worship you, dammit!’
‘The Liosan worship themselves, L’oric. I happen to be a convenient figurehead. Kurald Thyrllan may appear vulnerable, but it isn’t.’
‘And what if these Deragoth are servants of Darkness in truth? Do you still make the same claim, Father?’
He was silent, then strode towards the gaping entranceway. ‘It’s all her fault,’ he muttered as he passed.
L’oric followed his father outside. ‘This… observation tower. Is it Jaghut?’
‘Yes.’
‘So, where are they?’
‘West. South. East. But not here-I’ve seen none.’
‘You don’t know where they are, do you?’
‘They are not in this memory, L’oric. That is that. Now, stay back.’
The High Mage remained near the tower, watching his father veer into his draconic form. The air suddenly redolent with a sweet, spicy aroma, a blurring of shape before L’oric’s eyes. Like Anomander Rake, Osric was more dragon than anything else. They were kin in blood, if not in personality. I wish I could understand this man, this father of mine. Queen take me, I wish I could even like him . He strode forward.
