The distance between the pursuer and the pursued had closed to less than two hundred paces. Paran abandoned his over-the-shoulder study of the beast and urged his horse ahead. They were pounding along a rocky shoreline. Twice they had clattered over the bones of some large creature, whale-like although many of the bones had been split and crushed. Up ahead and slightly inland, the land rose into something like a hill – as much as could be found in this realm. Paran waved towards it. 'That way!' he shouted to the driver.
'What?' the man shrieked. 'Are you mad?'
'One last push! Then halt and leave the rest to me!'
The old man shook his head, yet steered the horses up onto the slope, then drove them hard as, hoofs churning in the mud, they strained to pull the huge carriage uphill.
Paran slowed his horse once more, caught a glimpse of shareholders gathered round the back of the carriage, all staring at him as he reined in, directly in the beast's path.
One hundred paces.
Paran fought to control his panicking horse, even as he drew a wooden card from his saddlebag. On which he scored a half-dozen lines with his thumbnail. A moment to glance up – fifty paces, head lowering, jaws opening wide. Oh, a little closeTwo more deeper scores into the wood, then he flung the card out, into the path of the charging creature.
Four soft words under his breathThe card did not fall, but hung, motionless.
The scaled bear reached it, voicing a bellowing roar – and vanished.
Paran's horse reared, throwing him backward, his boots leaving the stirrups as he slid onto its rump, then off, landing hard to skid in the mud. He picked himself up, rubbing at his behind.
Shareholders rushed down to gather round him.
'How'd you do that?'
'Where'd it go?'
'Hey, if you coulda done that any time what was we runnin' for?'
Paran shrugged. 'Where – who knows? And as for the "how", well, I am Master of the Deck of Dragons. Might as well make the grand title meaningful.'
Gloved hands slapped his shoulders – harder than necessary, but he noted their relieved expressions, the terror draining from their eyes.
Hedge arrived. 'Nice one, Captain. I didn't think any of you'd make it. From what I saw, though, you left things nearly too late – too close. Saw your mouth moving – some kind of spell or something? Didn't know you were a mage-'
'I'm not. I was saying "I hope this works".'
Once again, everyone stared at him.
Paran walked over to his horse.
Hedge said, 'Anyway, from that hilltop you can see our destination.
The High Mage thought you should know.'
From the top of the hill, five huge black statues were visible in the distance, the intervening ground broken by small lakes and marsh grasses. Paran studied the rearing edifices for a time. Bestial hounds, seated on their haunches, perfectly rendered yet enormous in scale, carved entirely of black stone.
'About what you had expected?' Hedge asked, clambering back aboard the carriage.
'Wasn't sure,' Paran replied. 'Five… or seven. Well, now I know. The two shadow hounds from Dragnipur found their… counterparts, and so were reunited. Then, it seems, someone freed them.'
'Something paid us a visit,' Hedge said, 'the night us ghosts annihilated the Dogslayers. Into Sha'ik's camp.'
Paran turned to regard the ghost. 'You haven't mentioned this before, sapper.'
'Well, they didn't last long anyway.'
'What in Hood's name do you mean, they didn't last long?'
'I mean, someone killed them.'
'Killed them? Who? Did a god visit that night? One of the First Heroes? Or some other ascendant?'
Hedge was scowling. 'This is all second-hand, mind you, but from what I gathered, it was Toblakai. One of Sha'ik's bodyguards, a friend of Leoman's. Afraid I don't know much about him, just the name, or, I suppose, title, since it's not a real name-'
'A bodyguard named Toblakai killed two Deragoth hounds?'
The ghost shrugged, then nodded. 'Aye, that's about right, Captain.'
Paran drew off his helm and ran a hand through his hair – gods below, do I need a bath – then returned his attention to the distant statues and the intervening lowlands. 'Those lakes look shallow – we should have no trouble getting there.'
The carriage door opened and the Jaghut sorceress Ganath emerged. She eyed the black stone monuments. 'Dessimbelackis. One soul made seven – he believed that would make him immortal. An ascendant eager to become a god-'
