Tool slowly lowered himself to collect his notched sword. 'Aye.'
'He is a mortal man!'
'Go to the Abyss, Kilava.' He straightened, back scraping as he continued leaning against the wall.
'Let me kill him. Now. Then once more you shall have no worthy challenger.'
'Oh, sister,' Tool sighed. 'Do you not realize? Our time — it has passed. We must relinquish our place in this world. Mok — that man you so casually struck from behind — he is the Third. The Second and the First are his masters with swords. Do you understand me, Kilava? Leave him. leave them all.'
He slowly turned until he could see Toc the Younger.
The body, speared through on a shaft of wood, did not move.
'The ancient wolf-god is free,' Kilava said, following his gaze. 'Can you not hear it?'
'No. I cannot.'
'That howl now fills another realm, the sound of birth. A realm … brought into existence by the Summoner. As for what now gives it life, something else, something else
A scrape from the doorway.
Both swung their heads.
Another T'lan Imass stood beneath the arch. Impaled with swords, cold-hammered copper sheathing canines. 'Where is she?'
Tool tilted his head. 'Who do you seek, kin?'
'You are Onos T'oolan.' The attention then shifted to Kilava. 'And you are his sister, the One who Defied-'
Kilava's lip curled in contempt. 'And so I remain.'
'Onos T'oolan, First Sword, where is the Summoner?'
'I do not know. Who are you?'
'Lanas Tog. I must find the Summoner.'
Tool pushed himself from the wall. 'Then we shall seek her together, Lanas Tog.'
'Fools,' Kilava spat.
The patter of claws behind Lanas Tog — she wheeled, then backed away.
Baaljagg limped into the chamber. Ignoring everyone but Toc the Younger, the wolf approached the body, whimpered.
'He is free,' Tool said to Baaljagg. 'Your mate.'
'She is not deaf to that howl,' Kilava muttered. 'Togg has passed into the Warren of Tellann. Then … to a place beyond. Brother, take that path, since you are so determined to find the Summoner. They converge, one and all.'
'Come with us.'
Kilava turned away. 'No.'
'Sister. Come with us.'
She spun, face dark. 'No! I've come for the Seer. Do you understand me? I've come-'
Tool's gaze fell to Toc's broken corpse. 'For redemption. Yes. I understand. Find him, then.'
'I shall! Now that I've saved you, I am free to do as I please.'
Tool nodded. 'And when you are done, sister, seek me out once more.'
'And why should I?'
'Kilava. Blood-kin. Seek me out.'
She was silent for a long moment, then she gave a curt nod.
Lanas Tog strode to Tool's side. 'Lead me, then, First Sword.'
The two T'lan Imass fell to dust, then that, too, vanished.
Kilava was alone in the chamber.
Barring an unconscious Seguleh.
And an ay now lying beside a corpse.
She hesitated, took a step towards Mok's inert form, then sighed, wheeled about and approached Baaljagg.
'You grieve for this mortal,' she whispered, reaching down to rest her hand on the beast's lowered head. 'For him, you hold back on what you so long for — your reunion with your lost mate. Was this man truly worthy of such loyalty? No, answer not — that is plain enough in your eyes.
'And so I will tell you something, Baaljagg, that you clearly fail to realize. This mortal's soul — it rides Togg's own — and your mate would deliver it, but not to Hood's Gate. Go, then, pursue that trail. Here, I shall open the way.'
She straightened, gestured.
The Warren of Tellann opened. The chamber's musty air was swept away. A sweet smell of wet tundra, acrid mosses and softened lichen flowed in on a soft, warm breeze.
The ay bound through the portal.
Kilava closed it after the beast.
Then walked from the chamber.
A moment later, Blend stepped from the shadows. She strode to where Mok lay amidst broken wood and twisted metal, looked down on the unconscious figure.
'-a damned panther!'
'Kilava,' Lady Envy replied. 'I have crossed paths with her before. Rude, indeed, to push us all aside in such contemptuous fashion.'
Blend turned as the troop arrived.
Lady Envy paused, veiled eyes flicking from Mok to Toc the Younger. 'Oh,' she said in a low voice, 'my dear lad … Would that you had remained in our company.'
Picker. Mallet. Spindle. Antsy. Bluepearl.
Blend closed her eyes.
'Well, that settles it, then,' Lady Envy said. 'We return to the keep's roof. Swiftly, before Kilava robs me of my vengeance against the Seer.'
'You can return to the roof,' Picker growled. 'We're leaving.'
Lady Envy crossed her arms. 'I exhaust myself healing you ungracious soldiers, and this is your answer? I want
Mallet and Spindle moved to retrieve Toc's body.
Picker slumped against a wall, studied Lady Envy with red-shot eyes. 'Our thanks for the healing,' she muttered. 'But we need to rejoin Onearm's Host.'
'And what if still more Pannion soldiers are lurking about?'
'Then we join our slain brothers and sisters. What of it?'
'Oh, you're all the same!'
With that, and a flurry of white robes, Lady Envy stormed from the chamber.
Blend drew closer to Picker, quietly said, 'There's a hint of fresh air … coming from the doorway beyond.'
The lieutenant nodded. 'Lead on.'
Canted to one side, shrouded in black mist, the ruptured basalt groaning like a living thing, Moon's Spawn drew ever closer to the keep's parapet.
Beneath the vast, overwhelming weight of Kurald Galain, the Seer crouched in his madness, head tilted to stare up at the edifice, the Finnest cradled with desperate possessiveness in his arms. Off to one side, the Matron seemed to be trying to claw her way through the tiles beneath her. The pressure was unrelenting.
The two Seguleh had not reached the rooftop unscathed, and the K'ell Hunters were proving more than their match. Both masked warriors had been driven back over the low ringwall, leaving trails of blood. Even so, Paran had never before seen such a display of skill. The swords were a blur, seemingly everywhere at once, and the K'ell Hunters were being hacked to shreds even as they pressed on. The captain had thought to help the two strangers, but had concluded that he'd prove more a hindrance.
