Quick Ben sat up. He looked to where Mammot had been standing.
The paving stones were gone, and a wide, deep, steaming hole now yawned near the shattered fountain. The old man was nowhere in sight.
«Dear wizard,» the woman murmured beneath him. «We live?»
Quick Ben glanced down at her. «You'd closed your Warren. Very clever.»
«Closed, yes, but not by choice. Why clever?»
«Moranth munitions are mundane weapons, Witch. Opened Warrens draw their explosive force. That Tyrant is dead. Obliterated.»
And then Hedge was beside them, his leather cap half blown away and flash-burns covering one side of his face. «You all right?» he gasped.
The wizard reached out and cuffed the man. «You idiot! How many times have I-» «He's dead, ain't he?» Hedge retorted, hurt. «Just a smouldering hole in the ground-best way to deal with mages, right?»
They saw Captain Paran rise shakily from the rubble-strewn terrace.
He scanned the scene, his gaze finding the wizard. «Where is Whiskeyjack?» he demanded.
«In the woods,» Hedge answered.
Paran stumbled in that direction.
«Big help he was,» Hedge muttered.
«Quick!» The wizard turned to see Kalam approach. The assassin paused as he skirted the edge of the crater, then he said. «Something's moving down there.»
Paling, Quick Ben rose, then helped the witch to her feet.
They approached the crater. «Impossible,» the wizard breathed. A manshaped form had coalesced at the base of the pit. «We're dead. Or worse.»
Thrashing from the garden drew their attention. The three froze as strangely blurred roots broke free of the undergrowth and snaked hungrily towards the crater.
The Jaghut Possessed straightened, spreading grey, swirling arms.
The roots closed around the creature. It shrieked in sudden terror.
«Azath edieirmarn! No! You've taken my Finnest-but leave me! Please!»
Tendrils clambered in a frenzy, entwining its limbs. The Omtose Phellack power writhed in a panicked effort to escape, to no avail. The roots pulled the apparition down, then dragged it screaming into the garden.
«Azath?» Quick Ben whispered. «Here?»
«None, I would swear,» Derudan said, her face white. «It's said they arise-»
«Where unchained power threatens life,» the wizard finished.
«I know where it is,» Kalam said. «Quick Ben, will that Jaghut escape?»
«No.»
«So we're done with it. What of the Azath?»
Quick Ben hugged himself. «Leave it, Kalam.»
«I must leave,» Derudan said hastily. «Again, my gratitude for twice saving my life.»
They watched her rush away.
Fiddler joined them, looking distracted. «Mallet's tending to the sergeant,» he said, closing the straps on a bulky bag he carried. «We're off, then.» He nudged Hedge. «Got a city to blow.»
«Whiskeyjack's hurt?» Quick Ben asked.
«Broken leg,» Fiddler answered. «Pretty bad.»
At a surprised cry from Derudan, who had gone to the opposite side of the fountain, they all turned. She'd walked on to a black-clad youth, who must have been crouching behind the fountain's stone wall. Darting like a rabbit, the boy leaped the fountain and raced towards the estate.
«What do you think he heard?» Fiddler wondered.
«Nothing that would mean much to him,» said Quick Ben, recalling their conversation. «You and Hedge going to do the deed?»
«Sky high.» Fiddler grinned.
The two saboteurs checked their equipment one last time, then turned to the patio.
Meanwhile, Kalam stood glowering into the pit. Ancient copper water-pipes streamed water down its ragged sides. For some reason a memory of the Greyfaces flashed into his head. The assassin crouched, seeing one pipe that leaked no water. He sniffed the air, then lay flat on the ground and reached down to lay his hand over the pipe's broken end.
«Osserc,» he breathed.
He rolled and gained his feet, then asked Quick Ben, «Where are they?»
The wizard's expression was blank. «Who?»
Kalam roared, «The saboteurs, dammit!»
«Just left,» Quick Ben replied, bemused. «Through the estate.»
«To the back wall, soldier,» the assassin snapped. «Find the others-Paran's taken command. Tell him to pull out. Find a place I know. I'll meet you there.»
«Where are you going?»
«After the saboteurs.» Kalam wiped sweat from his face. «Pull out the city map when you can, Quick Ben.» The assassin's eyes were tight with fear. «Check the legend on it. We've planted mines at every major intersection. It's the main valves-don't you see?» He waved an arm. «The Greyfaces! The gas, Quick Ben!»
Kalam whirled and crossed the patio. A moment later he disappeared into the estate house.
Quick Ben stared after him. The gas? His eyes widened. «We'll all go sky high,» he whispered. «The whole damn city!»
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
It was said she turned the blade on herself then to steal the magic of life.
Call to Shadow (IX.?)
Felisin (b.1146)
Exhausted, paran made his way through the undergrowth.
He ducked beneath a tree into shadow-and the world shifted.
Jaws closed on his left shoulder, teeth grinding through chain, and lifted him from the ground. A surge of unseen muscle flung him through the air. He landed heavily, rolled to his knees and looked up in time to see the Hound close once again. Paran's left arm was numb; he reached vainly for his sword as the Hound opened its maw and closed it around his chest. Mail popped, flesh tore and blood sprayed as the Hound lifted Paran once again.
The captain hung in the giant beast's mouth. He felt Chance slide free of its scabbard, its weight pulling it away from his twitching hand. The Hound shook him. Blood spattered the ground. Then it dropped him and stepped back, looking almost baffled. It whined, began to pace back and forth, eyes darting again and again to the captain.
Pain surged through Paran in growing waves; his limbs shook uncontrollably, he could barely draw breath.
«It seems Rood must find someone to blame,» a voice said. Paran blinked, opened his eyes to see a black-cowled man standing above him.
«But he was premature, and for that I apologize. Evidently, some old scores need settling between you and the Hounds.» The man frowned at Rood. «More, something has confused him about you: Kinship? Now, how could that be?»
«You were the one,» Paran said, as numbness spread through him, «the one who possessed the girl-»
The man faced the captain. «Yes, I am Cotillion. Shadowthrone regrets leaving you outside Hood's Gates-at the cost of two Hounds. Do you realize that those precious creatures had lived for a thousand years? Do you realize that no man-mortal or Ascendant-has ever before killed a Hound?»
Did I save their souls? Wouldn't telling that story matter? No, too much like begging. Paran glanced at Rood. Kinship? «What do you want from me?» he asked Cotillion. «My death? Leave me here, then, it's almost done.»
«You should have left us to our work, Captain, since you now hate the Empress so.»
«What you did to the girl-»
«What I did was merciful. I used her, yes, but she knew it not. Can the same be said for you? Tell me, is knowing you're being used better than not knowing?»
Paran said nothing.
«I can release to the girl all those memories, if you like. The memories of what I did, what she did, when I possessed her. .»
«No.»
Cotillion nodded.
Paran could feel the pain returning and it surprised him. He'd lost so much blood that he'd expected to be fading from consciousness by now.
Instead, the pain was back, incessant, throbbing amid unbearable itching. He coughed. «Now what?»
«Now?» Cotillion seemed surprised. «Now I start again.»
«Another girl like her?»
«No, the plan was flawed.»
«You stole her life!» Cotillion's dark eyes hardened. «Now she has it back. I see you still carry Chance, so the same cannot be said for you.»