Midnight Tides
‘Then why is she still the guardian?’
‘She may not be, Brys. She waits in order to deal with those who are about to escape the grounds.’ The Ceda’s gaze returned to Kettle. ‘Child, is that why you remain?’
She shrugged. ‘It won’t be long now.’
‘And the one the Azath chose to help you, Kettle, will he emerge in time?’
‘I don’t know. I hope so.’
‘So do I,’ Kuru Qan said. ‘Thank you, child, for the tile. Still, I wonder at your knowledge of this new Hold.’
Kettle pulled an insect from her hair and tossed it aside. ‘The pretty man told me all about it,’ she said.
‘Another visitor?’
‘Only once. Mostly he just stands in the shadows, across the street. Sometimes he followed me when I went hunting, but he never said anything. Not until today, when he came over and we talked.’
‘Did he tell you his name?’ the Ceda asked.
‘No. But he was very handsome. Only he said he had a girlfriend. Lots. Boyfriends, too. Besides, I shouldn’t give my heart away. That’s what he said. He never does. Never ever.’
‘And this man told you all about the Hold of Death?’
‘Yes, Grandfather. He knew all about it. He said it doesn’t need a new guardian, because the throne is already occupied, at least everywhere else. Here too, soon. I’m tired of talking now.’
‘Of course, Kettle,’ Kuru Qan said. ‘We shall take our leave of you, then.’
‘Goodbye. Oh, don’t forget the tile!’
‘We will send some people to collect it, child.’
‘All right.’
She watched them walk away. When they were gone from sight she headed over to her friend’s barrow, and felt him close. ‘Where are you taking me this time?’
Her hand in his, she found herself standing on a low hill, and before them was a vast, shallow valley, filled with corpses.
It was dusk, a layer of smoke hanging over the vista. Just above the horizon opposite, a suspended mountain of black stone was burning, columns of smoke billowing from its gashed flanks. Below, the bodies were mostly of some kind of huge, reptilian creature wearing strange armour. Grey-skinned and long-snouted, their forms were contorted and ribboned with slashes, lying in tangled heaps. Here and there in their midst lay other figures. Tall, some with grey skins, some with black.
Standing beside her, he spoke, ‘Over four hundred thousand, Kettle. Here in this valley alone. There are other… valleys. Like this one.’
‘Ooh, are those dragons?’
‘Spawn. Locqui Wyval, searching for their master. But he is gone. Once they realize that, they will know to wait. It will prove a long wait.’
‘Are they waiting still?’
‘Yes.’
‘When did this battle happen?’
‘Many thousands of years ago, Kettle. But the damage remains. In a short while, the ice will arrive, sealing all you see. Holding all in stasis, a sorcery of impressive power, so powerful it will prove a barrier to the dead themselves – to the path their spirits would take. I wonder if that was what the Jaghut had intended. In any case, the land was twisted by the magic. The dead… lingered. Here, in the north, and far to the south, as far as Letheras itself. To my mind, an Elder god meddled. But none could have foreseen the consequences, not even an Elder god.’
‘Is that why the tower has become the Hold of Death?’
‘It has? I was not aware of that. This, then, is what comes, when the sorcery finally dies and the world thaws. Balance is reasserted.’
‘Shurq Elalle says we are at war. The Tiste Edur, she says, are invading Lether.’
‘Let us hope they do not arrive before I am free.’
‘Why?’
‘Because they will endeavour to kill me, Kettle.’
‘Why?’
‘For fear that I will seek to kill them.’
‘Will you?’
‘On many levels,’ he replied, ‘there is no reason why I shouldn’t. But no, not unless they get in my way. You and I know, after all, that the true threat waits in the barrows of the Azath grounds.’
‘I don’t think the Edur will win the war,’ she said.
‘Yes, failure on their part would be ideal.’
‘So what else did you want to show me?’
A pale white hand gestured towards the valley. ‘There is something odd to all this. Do you see? Or, rather, what don’t you see?’