Silchas Ruin was nodding. ‘And then?’
The undead warrior shrugged. ‘Kill Korabas?’
‘Leaving a realm filled with Eleint?’
‘Then … perhaps he would stand back and watch the two elemental forces collide and maul each other, until one emerged victorious – but so weakened, so destroyed, that he need only act expeditiously, without rage. It may be that this is what your brother demanded of Draconus, in exchange for his freedom.’
Silchas Ruin held his hands up to his face. After a moment he shook his head. ‘Knowing my brother, there was no demand. There was only giving.’
‘Friend,’ said Tulas Shorn, ‘what is it that is in your mind?’
‘That there is more to the unchaining of Korabas than we know. That, in some manner we have yet to fathom, the Otataral Dragon’s freedom serves a higher purpose. Korabas is here because she needs to be.’
‘Silchas – your living senses are sharper than my dead ones. How many Eleint have come into this world?’
The white-skinned Tiste Andii lowered his hands from his face and looked over at Tulas Shorn. ‘All of them.’
Tulas Shorn staggered back a step, and then turned away – almost as if his every instinct was demanding that he flee, that he get away. Where? Anywhere . And then he faced Silchas again. ‘Korabas does not stand a chance.’
‘No, she does not.’
‘The Eleint will conquer this world – who is there to stop them? My friend – we have been made irrelevant. All purpose … gone. I will not surrender to T’iam!’
The sudden anger in Tulas made Silchas straighten. ‘Nor will I.’
‘What can we do?’
‘We can hope.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘You say you sense the Hounds of Shadow—’
‘Not close—’
‘And you tell me that they possess a new master, the usurper of Kurald Emurlahn—’
‘Who commands nothing.’
‘No. Not yet. There is a game being played here – beyond all that we think we understand of this situation. You say the Hounds are wandering. The question that needs to be asked is: why? What has Shadow to do with any of this?’
Tulas Shorn shook his head.
Silchas Ruin drew out his Hust sword. ‘That usurper gave this weapon to me, as I told you. See the blade? Watermarked and etched with dragons. But there is more – there is my brother’s sacrifice. There is the return of Mother Dark.’
‘And now Draconus. Silchas – your brother, he cannot have meant to—’
‘But I think he did, Tulas. We children were as responsible for what happened between Mother Dark and her consort as anyone was – even Osserc. My friend – they set something into play . Anomander, this Shadowthrone, even Hood, and perhaps many other gods hidden from our view, for ever veiled.’
‘Draconus will never return to Mother Dark – do you truly believe those wounds could ever heal?’
‘Tulas, the Eleint must be faced down – they must be driven back. They are the Children of Chaos, and who has always stood against Chaos? What was Dragnipur, Tulas, if not a broken man’s attempt to save the woman he had lost? It failed – Abyss knows how it failed – but now, at last, Draconus has been freed – his own chains for ever cut away from him. Don’t you see? My brother ended Mother Dark’s vow of isolation – once again she faces her children. But why should it stop there? Tulas! My brother also freed Draconus.’
‘Anomander would force the wounds to heal? The arrogance of the man!’
‘He forces nothing, Tulas. He but opens the door. He makes possible … anything .’
‘Does Draconus understand?’
Now that is the question, isn’t it? ‘When he is done killing the Elder Gods he feels should be killed, he will pause. He will ask himself the question, what now? And then, perhaps, it will come to him. The fullest recognition of Anomander’s gift.’
‘My friend, if I truly had breath, you would have taken it from me. But … how can you be certain? Of any of this?’
Silchas Ruin studied the sword in his hand. ‘I think I know who crouches at the centre of this mad web. Tulas, when I veer, what happens to this Hust sword?’
‘It becomes one with the fibre of your flesh and bone – as you well know, Silchas.’
‘Yes … but this is a Hust – a slayer of dragons.’
‘Was the usurper trying to tell you something, do you think?’
