Brys stood alone in the corridor. The howling was, thankfully, over. It was the only sound that had managed to penetrate the walls. There was no way to know if the garrison was fighting in the city beyond the Eternal Domicile. It seemed such a pointless thing…
His breath caught upon hearing a strange sound. Brys lowered his gaze, fixed it upon the Ceda, who was lying curled tight in the chamber beyond, with his back to Brys and the throne room behind him.
Kuru Qan’s head shifted slightly, then rose a fraction from the floor.
And, from the Ceda, there came low laughter.
The path was unmistakable. Keening with glee, the demon drew itself to the cave’s entrance, contracting its massive, corpulent presence, the bloated flesh of its body, away from the river’s broad span. Inward, gathering, hovering before the tunnel beneath the city, where old swamp water still flowed, putrid and sweet, a flavour like sweet nectar to the demon.
Ready now, at last, for the lunge, the breaking away from the grip of its master. Who was so regrettably preoccupied at the moment.
Surging forward, filling the cave, then into the narrow, twisting tunnel.
To the heart. The wondrous, blessed heart of power.
Joy and hunger burning like twin fires within it. Close, so close now.
Squirming down, the path narrowing, squeezing with the vast pressure of overlying stone and earth. A little further.
Reaching out, the space suddenly opening, blissfully wide and high, spreading out to all sides, the water welcoming in its warmth.
A storm of long-still silts sweeping up, blinding, shadows of dead things cavorting before its countless eyes.
The heart, the enormous cavern beneath the lake, the city’s very soul – the power-
And Brys heard Kuru Qan speak.
‘Now, friend Bugg.’
Thirty paces from the overgrown yard of the Azath tower, Bugg skidded to a halt. He cocked his head, then smiled.
Ahead, Iron Bars slowed, then turned round. ‘What?’
‘Find the girl,’ the manservant said. ‘I’ll join you when I can.’
‘In a moment, Avowed. I must do something first.’
The Crimson Guardsman hesitated, then nodded and swung back.
Bugg closed his eyes.
She replied in his mind, distant, yet swiftly closing. ‘
The demon expanded to fill the cavern. The heart was all about, the power seeping in to enliven its flesh. The chains of binding melted away.
Now, it need only reach out and grasp hold.
The strength of a thousand gods awaited it.
Reaching.
Countless grasping, clutching hands.
Finding…
Then, a mortal’s voice-
From the Ceda, two more words, uttered low and clear, ‘
A lie! Illusion! Deceit! The demon raged, spun in a conflagration of brown silt, seeking the way out – only to find the tunnel mouth sealed. A smooth surface, fiercely cold, the cold burning – the demon recoiled.
Then, the lake overhead. Upward – fast, faster-
Ursto Hoobutt and his sometime lover, Pinosel, were both drunk as they awaited the fall of Letheras. They had been singing, celebrating the end of their debts, sprawled on the mouldy walkway surrounding Settle Lake amidst nervous rats and head-jutting pigeons.
When the wine ran out, they began bickering.
It had begun innocently enough, as Pinosel loosed a loud sigh and said, ‘And now you can marry me.’
It was a moment before her words registered, upon which, bleary-eyed, he looked over in disbelief. ‘Marry you? Wha’s wrong wi’ ’ow it is now, Cherrytart?’
‘What’s wrong? It’s respectable I want, you fat, flea-bit oaf. I earned it. Respectable. You marry me, Ursto Hoobutt, now that the Edurians done conquered us. Marry me!’
‘All right, I will.’
‘When?’ she demanded, sensing the out he was angling towards.
‘When… when…’ Hah! He had his answer-
And, at that instant, the fetid green water of Settle Lake, sprawled out before them like a turgid plain of seaweed fertilizer, paled into murky white. And clouds began rising from its now frozen surface.
An icy breeze swept over Ursto Hoobutt and Pinosel.
There was a sudden deep thump from somewhere beneath the frozen lake’s ice, although not a single crack showed.
Ursto Hoobutt stared, disbelieving. Opened his mouth, then closed it.
Then his shoulders sagged. ‘Today, love. I’ll marry ya today…’
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
When the gods of dust were young They swam in blood.
SHURQ ELALLE WALKED DOWN THE TUNNEL TO THE CRYPT DOOR. HER thoughts were on Gerun Eberict; her concern was for Tehol Beddict. The Finadd was of the most vicious sort, after all, and Tehol seemed so… helpless. Oh, fit enough, probably quite capable of running fast and far should the need arise. But it was clear that Tehol had no intention of running anywhere. The silent bodyguards Brys had assigned to him were some comfort, although, the way Gerun worked, they might prove little more than a minor inconvenience.
If that was not troubling enough, there was the ominous silence from Kettle at the dead Azath tower. Was that a result of the child’s returning to life, thus severing the link that bound the dead? Or had something terrible happened?
She reached the portal and pushed it open.
Light flared from a lantern, and she saw Ublala seated on the sarcophagus, the lantern on his lap as he adjusted the flame.
She saw his expression and frowned. ‘What is wrong, my love?’
‘There’s no time,’ he said, rising, bumping his head on the ceiling, then ducking into a hunch. ‘Bad things. I was about to go.’ He set the lantern down on the lid. ‘Couldn’t wait for you any longer. I’ve got to go.’
‘Where?’
‘It’s the Seregahl,’ he mumbled, hands wringing. ‘It’s bad.’
‘The Seregahl? The old Tarthenal gods? Ublala, what are you talking about?’
‘I have to go.’ He headed for the doorway.
‘Ublala, what about Harlest? Where are you going?’
‘The old tower.’ He was in the tunnel, his words dwindling, ‘I love you, Shurq Elalle…’
She stared at the empty doorway. Love? That sounded… final.
Shurq Elalle went to the sarcophagus and slid the lid to one side.
‘Aarrgh! Hiss! Hiss! Hiss-’
