Orb Sceptre Throne

glimmering Vitr merely ran from him in beads, like quicksilver.

But what troubled her was his expression: it was all open puzzlement. Not one hint of recognition touched his night-dark eyes.

‘Tayschrenn! You have eluded me for the last time,’ Yathengar called out.

The lean aristocratic head tilted to one side, apparently bewildered. ‘You are from my past then, are you?’

‘He is your enemy!’ Kiska managed to grind out, feeling as if her throat were tearing.

Snarling, Yathengar threw her and Leoman down, punching them into the sands.

‘So … I had enemies,’ Tayschrenn said, speaking almost to himself.

‘Do not take me for a fool! No play-acting will help you now.’

‘You are harming those two.’

‘This is as nothing compared to what I will do to you.’

‘What will you-’

But Yathengar had had enough of talk. He thrust with both hands. A storm of roaring energies engulfed Tayschrenn, who fell back into the Vitr, bellowing his pain. In the sands Kiska struggled to draw her long-knife.

Yet the smoking blackened figure that was Tayschrenn arose from the Vitr. ‘Why …’ He spat aside through blistered bleeding lips.

A howl of rage took everyone by surprise and Kiska snapped her head round to glimpse the giant demon launching itself upon Yathengar. An eruption of puissance threw the fearsome entity to the ground, where it lay groaning, the fur on its armoured torso smoking.

‘So …’ said Tayschrenn, agony making his voice faint, ‘you are a mage.’

Yathengar scowled, disbelief obvious on his ravaged face. ‘What is this …?’

Tayschrenn advanced a step. ‘Then you are my enemy …’

The mage’s hands fell, so startled was he by the statement. Tayschrenn lunged at him just as his huge friend had. This time the Seven Cities mage was too slow to react and the two went down grappling.

Kiska could only stare, baffled. What was he doing? Fighting? Why didn’t he just …

Then she realized — the man must have forgotten everything about his prior life. Everything. Perhaps he no longer even knew how to channel power. Gods! How could he defeat this madman? By punching him?

Perhaps strengthened by his insanity, Yathengar managed to raise his hands. Power rippled there, sizzling in Tayschrenn’s grip. At the same time the fist at Kiska’s throat eased and she sat up, drawing her knife. Leoman also rose. The morningstars hissed to life in his hands. But neither dared strike while the two mages squirmed in the sands.

Then Kiska realized even more. ‘The Vitr!’ she shouted to Tayschrenn. ‘He hasn’t touched the Vitr!’

Understanding, Tayschrenn heaved himself to one side. The two struggled while power lashed, searing the flesh of the ex-High Mage’s arms. They rolled into the thin anaemic surf. Tayschrenn fought to press Yathengar down while the mage wrestled to free his arms. Finally Tayschrenn managed to force the man into the wash.

Immediately, the silvery liquid burst into foaming hissing froth. Yathengar howled, jerking free of Tayschrenn. He lunged for the dry shore; the former High Mage yanked him back by his robes. Leoman saw an opening and moved to close, but Kiska shouted a warning. Leoman leapt back but not fast enough, and his sandals smoked. He dug his feet into the sands, almost dancing in panic.

Meanwhile Yathengar had fallen again into the Vitr and now writhed screaming and flailing. Tayschrenn grimly took hold of a leg to drag him further out. The writhing and screaming went on for a long time. The great demon arose, groggy, to stand to one side, and Kiska stood panting, shuddering with suppressed energy. The continuous distant shrieks and hoarse pleading mixed with vile threats made her wince. She sat heavily in the sands and Leoman joined her.

They had found Tayschrenn. Succeeded in an apparently impossible task. Followed him through the Whorl to the very edge of existence. And now he did not even recognize them.

Eventually, the tall figure re-emerged from the glare of the Vitr. Kiska climbed to her feet. The man favoured her and Leoman with a harsh, unforgiving gaze. Kiska couldn’t trust herself to speak; she was afraid that anything she might say would be wrong. ‘So,’ he began at last, musing, ‘you are from my past.’

Kiska swallowed to wet her throat, managed a faint, ‘Yes.’ Then, stronger, ‘You are needed-’ She stopped as he raised a hand to silence her. He examined that hand, and the other, turning them over before his face. Kiska noted that his flesh was healed. The Vitr appeared to have somehow restored him.

He continued to study his hands, flexing them. ‘And I take it that I, too, was a mage.’

‘Yes,’ Kiska breathed, knowing that she could not lie.

Leoman, to his credit, remained silent, his narrowed dark eyes travelling between them, observing, gauging. The demon was also silent, watching, its great taloned hands clenched, the lenses of its bulbous eyes flashing as it blinked.

At Kiska’s whispered yes the man shuddered as if struck. His eyes squeezed shut and his hands fisted rigid, then fell to his sides. He exhaled through clenched teeth, made a sweeping gesture with one hand as if cutting the air between them. ‘Well, you can keep that past. I want nothing to do with it.’ He motioned to the demon. ‘Come, Korus. We have work to do.’

Kiska could not read the demon’s alien face but the massive tangle of fangs at its mouth seemed to curve in a grin of triumph.

‘But Tayschrenn!’

The man paused. He turned back, his expression unchanged. ‘If that was my name it is no longer. You can keep it as well … and take it with you when you go.’

She could not think of anything more to say. The ex-High Mage walked away, trailed by the demon Korus. She turned to Leoman; the man gave a long slow shrug. ‘Kiska, I’m sorry …’

Snarling, she turned and stalked off along the shore. I’ve not come all this way …

The gentle metal jingling of Leoman’s armour announced his following. ‘Kiska, listen … You’ve done everything that could be expected. If he does not want to come then that is his choice …’

Kiska kept walking. I’ll convince him. He’s needed.

‘You may not believe me but I’ve been through something rather similar before.’

Did he really say that? She spun on her heel. ‘Yes — you’re right. I do not believe you’ve followed a quarry to the edge of creation only to have him walk away!’

Leoman gripped his belt in both hands, rocked ever so slightly under her glare. ‘I was bodyguard to Sha’ik. You know that.’

Her rage abated and she hesitated, interested despite her doubts. ‘Yes?’

His narrowed gaze was on the middle distance, perhaps unwilling to meet her eyes. ‘I was with the uprising from the start. Rose through the ranks to become her bodyguard. She dragged my partner and me out to the deep desert, claimed she was going to be reborn. She had her blasted Holy Book with her. She’d consulted it, the divinatory deck, the astrological signs, everything. All to be at the right place at the right time to be reborn …’

‘And?’ Kiska prompted.

‘The Malazans put a crossbow bolt through her head at that very moment.’

Queen preserve me! She turned away, furious. ‘There is a point to this?’

Stung, his voice hardened. ‘The point is that what happened was not what I thought was supposed to happen — that’s the point!’

She stopped, glancing back. ‘But she was reborn …’

‘A — girl — showed up just then to take on the mantle. She became the new Sha’ik.’

‘Ah-ha! So eventually you did succeed! Your determination paid off.’

‘No. Actually, that’s not my point at all. I was thinking more that we should strike inland, see what turns up.’

‘Well, I’m staying. His memory might return.’ She waved him away and walked on after Tayschrenn, yelling over her shoulder: ‘Did you think of that!’