think on this, for she was my superior in the sorcerous arts. I am deeply saddened by this discovery, for she was my friend. Saddened, and alarmed.'
'Do you recall the details of her last mission?'
'Ah, a prescient question. Generally,' he paused, folding his hands on his lap, 'such details remain the property of the Trygalle Trade Guild, for as you must realize, confidentiality is a quality our clients pay for, in fullest trust that we reveal nothing. In this instance, however, two things are clear that mitigate such secrecy.
One: it seems, if we continue on, we shall face what Darpareth faced.
Two: in this, her last mission, she failed. And presumably, we do not wish to share her fate. Accordingly, we shall here and now pool our talents, first, to determine what destroyed her mission, and secondly, to effect a reasonable defence against the enemy responsible.'
The other Pardu clambered once more into view. Seeing Karpolan she paused, then shook her head.
'No bodies,' Paran said. 'Of course, those hungry beasts we ran into may well have cleaned up afterwards-'
'I think not,' said Ganath. 'I suspect they too fear what lies ahead, and would not venture this far along the bridge. In any case, the damage on that carriage came from something far larger, stronger. If this bridge has a true guardian, then I suspect these poor travellers met it.'
Paran frowned. 'Guardian. Why would there be a guardian? That kind of stuff belongs to fairy tales. How often does someone or something try to cross this bridge? It's got to be rare, meaning there's some guardian with a lot of spare time on its hands. Why not just wander off? Unless the thing has no brain at all, such a geas would drive it mad-'
'Mad enough to tear apart whatever shows up,' Hedge said.
'More like desperate for a scratch behind the ear,' Paran retorted. '
It doesn't make sense. Creatures need to eat, need company-'
'And if the guardian has a master?' Ganath asked.
'This isn't a Hold,' Paran said. 'It has no ruler, no master.'
Karpolan grunted, then said, 'You are sure of this, Ganoes Paran?'
'I am. More or less. This realm is buried, forgotten.'
'It may be, then,' Karpolan mused, 'that someone needs to inform the guardian that such is the case – that its task is no longer relevant.
In other words, we must release it from its geas.'
'Assuming such a guardian exists,' Paran said, 'rather than some chance meeting of two forces, both heading the same way.'
The Trygalle master's small eyes narrowed. 'You know more of this, Ganoes Paran?'
'What was Darpareth Vayd's mission here?'
'Ah, we are to exchange secrets, then. Very well. As I recall, the client was from Darujhistan. Specifically, the House of Orr. The contact was a woman, niece of the late Turban Orr. Lady Sedara.'
'And the mission?'
'It seems this realm is home to numerous entities, powers long forgotten, buried in antiquity. The mission involved an assay of such creatures. Since Lady Sedara was accompanying the mission, no other details were available. Presumably, she knew what she was looking for.
Now, Ganoes Paran, it is your turn.'
His frown deepening, Paran walked closer to the destroyed carriage. He studied the tears and gouges in the copper sheathing on the roof. 'I'd always wondered where they went,' he said, 'and, eventually, I realized where they were going.' He faced Karpolan Demesand. 'I don't think there's a guardian here. I think the travellers met on this bridge, all headed the same way, and the misfortune was with Darpareth and Sedara Orr. This carriage was destroyed by two Hounds of Shadow.'
'You are certain?'
I am. I can smell them. My… kin. 'We'll need to get this moved to one side, over the edge, I suppose.'
'One question,' Karpolan Demesand said. 'What happened to the bodies?'
'Hounds are in the habit of dragging and throwing their victims.
Occasionally, they feed, but for the most part they take pleasure in the killing – and they would, at that time, have been both enraged and exuberant. For they had just been freed from Dragnipur, the sword of Anomander Rake.'
'Impossible,' the High Mage snapped.
'No, just exceedingly difficult.'
'How do you know all this?' Karpolan demanded.
'Because I freed them.'
'Then… you are responsible for this.'
Paran faced the huge man, his now hard, dangerous eyes. 'Much to my regret. You see, they should never have been there in the first place.
In Dragnipur. I shouldn't have been, either. And, at the time, I didn' t know where they would escape to, or even that they would escape at all. It looked, in fact, as though I'd sent them to oblivion – to the Abyss itself. As it turned out,' he added as he faced the wreckage once more, 'I needed them to do precisely this – I needed them to blaze the trail. Of course, it would have been better if they'd met no-one on the way. It's easy to forget just how nasty they are…
Karpolan Demesand turned to his shareholders. 'Down, all of you! We must clear the road!'
'Captain,' Hedge muttered, 'you're really starting to make me nervous.'
The wreckage groaned, then slid over the edge, vanishing into the mists. The shareholders, gathered at the side of the bridge, all waited for a sound from below, but there was none. At a command from Karpolan, they returned to their positions on the Trygalle carriage.
It seemed the High Mage was in no mood to conduct idle conversation with Paran, and he caught the Jaghut sorceress eyeing him sidelong a moment before she climbed into the carriage. He sighed. Delivering unpleasant news usually did this – he suspected if trouble arrived there wouldn't be many helping hands reaching down for him. He climbed into the saddle once more and gathered the reins.
They resumed their journey. Eventually, they began on the downslope – the bridge was at least a league long. There was no way to tell, unless one sought to climb beneath the span, whether pillars or buttressing held up this massive edifice; or if it simply hung, suspended and unanchored, above a vast expanse of nothing.
Ahead, something took shape in the mists, and as they drew closer, they could make out a vast gateway that marked the bridge's end, the flanking uprights thick at the base and tapering as they angled inward to take – precariously, it seemed – the weight of a huge lintel stone.
The entire structure was covered with moss.
Karpolan halted the carriage in front of it and, as was his custom, sent the two Pardu shareholders through that gateway. When nothing untoward happened to them and they returned to report that the way beyond was clear – as much as they could make out, anyway – the carriage was driven through.
Only to halt just beyond, as the lead horses splashed into the silty water of a lake or sea.
Paran rode his horse down to the water's edge. Frowning, he looked right, then left, eyes tracking the shoreline.
From the carriage, Hedge spoke: 'Something wrong, Captain?'
'Yes. This lake is what's wrong.'
'Why?'
'It's not supposed to be here.'
'How do you know?'
Dismounting, Paran crouched by the water. No waves – perfect calm. He cupped his hand and dipped it into the cool, silty liquid. Raised it up, sniffed. 'Smells like rot. This is flood water-'
He was interrupted by an eerie, wailing cry, coming from somewhere downshore.
'Hood's breath!' Hedge hissed. 'The lungs that punched that out are huge.'
