‘A brilliant plan.’
‘I just thought it up.’
‘I like it very much. Well done, Kalam.’
‘Like I’ve always told you, Quick, I ain’t just a pretty face.’
The two swung about and, ignoring the shadows pouring out of the burgeoning shattered warren of Kurald Emurlahn, returned to where they had left Korbolo Dom.
‘ Friend? ’
Heboric stared at the four-eyed, squat demon that had leapt onto the path in front of him. ‘If we’d met, demon, I’m sure I would have remembered it.’
‘ Helpful explanation. Brother to L’oric. He lies in clearing twelve paces to your left. Hesitant revision. Fifteen paces. Your legs are nearly as short as mine. ’
‘Take me to him.’
The demon did not move. ‘ Friend ?’
‘More or less. We share certain flaws.’
The creature shrugged. ‘ With reservations. Follow .’
Heboric set off into the petrified forest after the shambling demon, his smile broadening as it prattled on.
‘ A priest with the hands of a tiger. Sometimes. Other times, human hands glowing depthless green. Impressed. Those tattoos, very fine indeed. Musing. I would have trouble tearing out your throat, I think. Even driven by hunger, as I always am. Thoughtful. A fell night, this one. Ghosts, assassins, warrens, silent battles. Does no-one in this world ever sleep? ’
They stumbled into a small clearing.
L’oric’s armour was stained with drying blood, but he looked well enough, seated cross-legged, his eyes closed, his breathing steady. On the dusty ground before him lay a spread of the Deck of Dragons.
Grunting, Heboric settled down opposite the High Mage. ‘Didn’t know you played with those.’
‘I never do,’ L’oric replied in a murmur. ‘Play, that is. A Master has come to the Deck, and that Master has just sanctioned the House of Chains.’
Heboric’s eyes widened. Then narrowed, and he slowly nodded. ‘Let the gods rail, he or she had to do just that.’
‘I know. The Crippled God is now as bound as is every other god.’
‘In the game, aye, after so long outside it. I wonder if he’ll one day come to regret his gambit.’
‘He seeks this fragment of Kurald Emurlahn, and is poised to strike, though his chances are less now than they were at sunset.’
‘How so?’
‘Bidithal is dead.’
‘Good. Who?’
‘Toblakai.’
‘Oh. Not good.’
‘Yet Toblakai has become, I believe, the Knight in the House of Chains.’
‘That is damned unfortunate… for the Crippled God. Toblakai will kneel to no-one. He cannot afford to. He will defy all prediction-’
‘He has already displayed that penchant this night, Ghost Hands, to the possible ruination of us all. Still, at the same time, I have come to suspect he is our only hope.’ L’oric opened his eyes and stared across at Heboric. ‘Two Hounds of Darkness arrived a short while ago-I could sense their presence, though fitfully, but could get no closer. Otataral, and the very darkness that shrouds them.’
‘And why should Toblakai step into their path? Never mind, I can answer that myself. Because he’s Toblakai.’
‘Aye. And I believe he has already done so.’
‘And?’
‘And now, I believe, but one Deragoth remains alive.’
‘Gods forbid,’ Heboric breathed.
‘Toblakai even now pursues it.’
‘Tell me, what brought the hounds here? What or who has Toblakai just thwarted?’
‘The cards are ambivalent on that, Destriant. Perhaps the answer is yet to be decided.’
‘Relieved to hear some things remain so, truth be told.’
‘Ghost Hands. Get Felisin away from this place. Greyfrog here will accompany you.’
‘And you?’
‘I must go to Sha’ik. No, say nothing until I finish. I know that you and she were once close-perhaps not in a pleasing manner, but close none the less. But that mortal child is soon to be no more. The goddess is about to devour her soul even as we speak-and once that is done, there shall be no return. The young Malazan girl you once knew will have ceased to exist. Thus, when I go to Sha’ik, I go not to the child, but to the goddess.’
‘But why? Are you truly loyal to the notion of apocalypse? Of chaos and destruction?’
‘No. I have something else in mind. I must speak with the goddess-before she takes Sha’ik’s soul.’
