pebbled impressions of coral. Tiny bones. Someone had done a lot of carving to make such a pretty scene of dead things.
She looked down the path, through the gate and onto the street. Strange, to see it so empty now. But, she knew, it wouldn’t be for long.
And so she waited.
The bleeding from her fingertips had stopped by the time she heard the footfalls approaching. She looked up, then smiled upon seeing Uncle Brys and the old man with the glass eyes – the one she had never seen before yet knew anyway.
They saw her, and Brys strode through the gate, the old man following behind with nervous, tentative steps.
‘Hello, Uncle,’ Kettle said.
‘Kettle. You are looking… better. I have brought a guest, Ceda Kuru
Qan.’
‘Yes, the one who’s always looking at me but not seeing me, but looking anyway.’
‘I wasn’t aware of that,’ the Ceda said.
‘Not like you’re doing now,’ Kettle said. ‘Not when you have those things in front of your eyes.’
‘You mean, when I look upon the Cedance? Is that when I see you without seeing you?’
She nodded.
‘The Hold of the Azath is gone, child, yet here you remain. You were its guardian when it was alive – when you were not. And now, you are its guardian still? When it is dead and you are not?’
‘I’m not dead?’
‘Not quite. The heart placed within you. Once frozen… now… thawing. I do not understand its power, and, I admit, it frightens me.’
‘I have a friend who said he’ll destroy me if he has to,’ Kettle said, smiling. ‘But he says he probably won’t have to.’
‘Why not?’
‘He says the heart won’t wake up. Not completely. That’s why the Nameless One took my body.’
She watched the old man’s mouth moving, but no words came forth. At his side, Uncle Brys stepped closer, concern on his face.
‘Ceda? Are you all right?’
‘Nameless One?’ The old man was shivering. ‘This place – this is the Hold of Death, isn’t it? It’s become the Hold of Death.’
Kettle reached over and picked up the flagstone. It was as heavy as a corpse, so she was used to the weight. ‘This is for your Cedance, for where you look when you don’t see me.’
‘A tile.’ Kuru Qan looked away as she set it down in front of him.
‘Ceda,’ Uncle Brys said, ‘I do not understand. What has happened here?’
‘Our history… so much is proving untrue. The Nameless Ones were of the First Empire. A cult. It was expunged. Eliminated. It cannot have survived, but it seems to have done just that. It seems to have outlived the First Empire itself.’
‘Are they some sort of death cult?’
‘No. They were servants of the Azath.’
‘Then why,’ Brys asked, ‘do they appear to have been overseeing the death of this Azath tower?’
Kuru Qan shook his head. ‘Unless they saw it as inevitable. And so they acted in order to counter those within the barrows who would escape once the tower died. The manifestation of a Hold of Death may turn out to have nothing to do with them.’
‘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.’
A score of leathery-winged beasts were crossing the valley at one end, far to their right.
‘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?’
