‘Pearl.’
‘What?’
‘I refuse the possibility-yes, I know what you are thinking. But it’s impossible.’
‘Why? Nothing else fits-’
‘I don’t care how well it fits! Is that all we mortals are? The victims of tortured irony to amuse an insane murder of gods?’
‘A murder of crows, a murder of gods-I like that, lass. As for tortured irony, more like exquisite irony. You don’t think Felisin would leap at the chance to become such a direct instrument of vengeance against her sister? Against the empire that sent her to a prison mine? Fate may well present itself, but the opportunity still must be embraced, wilfully, eagerly. There was less chance or coincidence in all this-more like a timely convergence of desires and necessities.’
‘We must return to the Adjunct,’ Lostara pronounced.
‘Alas, the Whirlwind stands between us. I can use no warrens to hasten our journey within that sphere of power. And it would take us far too long to go around it. Fear not, we shall endeavour to reach Tavore in time, with our ghastly revelation. But we shall have to pass through the Whirlwind, through Raraku itself, and quietly, carefully. Discovery would prove fatal.’
‘You are delighted with this, aren’t you?’
His eyes widened-a look of his of which she had grown far too fond, she realized with a surge of irritation. ‘Unfair, my dear Lostara Yil. I am satisfied that the mystery has been solved, that our task of ascertaining Felisin’s fate has been concluded. As far as we can take it at the moment, that is.’
‘And what of your hunt for the leader of the Talons?’
‘Oh, I think I will find satisfaction in that area soon, as well. All things are converging nicely, in fact.’
‘See, I knew you were pleased!’
He spread his hands. ‘Would you rather I lacerate my flesh in flagellation?’ At her cocked eyebrow his gaze narrowed suspiciously for a brief moment, then he drew a breath and resumed, ‘We are nearly done, lass, with this mission. And soon we will be able to sit ourselves down in a cool tent, goblets of chilled wine in our hands, and ruminate at leisure over the countless discoveries we have made.’
‘I can’t wait,’ she remarked drily, crossing her arms. He swung about and faced the Whirlwind. The roaring, shrieking maelstrom commanded the sky, spinning out an endless rain of dust.
‘Of course, first we will have to breach the goddess’s defences, undetected. You are of Pardu blood, so she will take no heed of you. I, on the other hand, am one-fourth Tiste Andu-’
She started, breath catching. ‘You are?’
He looked back, surprised. ‘You didn’t know? My mother was from Drift Avalii, a half-blood white-haired beauty-or so I’m told, as I have no direct recollection, since she left me with my father as soon as I’d been weaned.’
Lostara’s imagination conjured up an image of Pearl suckling at his mother’s breast, and found the scene alarming. ‘So you were a live birth?’
And smiled at his offended silence.
They made their way down the trail towards the basin, where the Whirlwind’s fierce storm raged ceaselessly, rising to tower over them the closer they approached. It was nearing dusk. They were short on food, though they had plenty of water, replenished from the spring near the ruined temple. Lostara’s boots were falling apart around her feet, and Pearl’s moccasins were now mostly wrapped rags. The seams of their clothing had frayed and grown brittle beneath the unrelenting sun. Leather had cracked and iron had become pitted and layered in patination and rust-stains from their harrowing passage through the Thyrllan Warren.
She felt worn out and weathered; in appearance, she knew, looking ten years older than she was in truth. All the more reason for her alternating fury and dismay at seeing Pearl’s hale, unlined face and his oddly shaped eyes so clear and bright. The lightness of his step made her want to brain him with the flat of her sword.
‘How do you intend to evade the Whirlwind’s notice, Pearl?’ she asked as they drew closer.
He shrugged. ‘I have a plan. Which may or may not work.’
‘Sounds like most of your plans. Tell me, then, what precarious role do you have in mind for me?’
‘Rashan, Thyr and Meanas,’ he replied. ‘The perpetual war. This fragment of warren before us is not fully comprehended by the goddess herself. Not surprising, since she was likely little more than a zephyr spirit to begin with. I, however, do comprehend… well, better than her, anyway.’
‘Are you even capable of answering succinctly? “Do your feet hurt?” “Oh, the warrens of Mockra and Rashan and Omtose Phellack, from which arise all aches below the knee-” ’
‘All right. Fine. I intend to hide in your shadow.’
‘Well, I’m already used to that, Pearl. But I should point out, that Whirlwind Wall is obscuring the sunset rather thoroughly.’
‘True, yet it exists none the less. I will just have to step carefully. Provided, of course, you make no sudden, unexpected moves.’
‘In your company, Pearl, the thought has yet to occur to me.’
‘Ah, that’s good. I in turn feel I should point out, however, that you persist in fomenting a certain tension between us. One that is anything but, uh, professional. Oddly enough, it seems to increase with every insult you throw my way. A peculiar flirtation-’
‘Flirtation? You damned fool. I’d be much happier seeing you fall flat on your face and get beaten helpless by that damned goddess, if only for the satisfaction I’d receive-’
‘Precisely as I was saying, dear.’
‘Really? So if I was to pour boiling oil all over you, you’d be telling me-in between screams-to get my head out from between your-’ She shut her mouth with an audible snap.
Wisely, Pearl made no comment.
Flat of the sword? No, the edge. ‘I want to kill you, Pearl.’
‘I know.’
‘But for the moment, I’ll settle with having you in my shadow.’
‘Thank you. Now, just walk on ahead, a nice even pace. Straight into that wall of sand. And mind you squint your eyes right down-wouldn’t want those glorious windows of fire damaged…’
She’d expected to meet resistance, but the journey proved effortless. Six steps within a dull, ochre world, then out onto the blasted plain of Raraku, blinking in the dusk’s hazy light. Four more steps, out onto scoured bedrock, then she spun round.
Smiling, Pearl raised both hands, palms upward. Standing a pace behind her.
She closed the distance, one gloved hand reaching up to the back of his head, the other reaching much lower as she closed her mouth on his. Moments later they were tearing at each other’s clothes. No resistance at all.
Less than four leagues to the southwest, as darkness descended, Kalam Mekhar woke suddenly, sheathed in sweat. The torment of his dreams still echoed, even as their substance eluded him. That song again… I think. Rising to a roar that seemed to grip the throat of the world… He slowly sat up, wincing at the various aches from his muscles and joints. Being jammed into a narrow, shadowed fissure was not conducive to restorative sleep.
And the voices within the song… strange, yet familiar. Like friends… who never sang a word in their lives. Nothing to quell the spirit-no, these voices give music to war…
He collected his waterskin and drank deep to wash the taste of dust from his mouth, then spent a few moments checking his weapons and gear. By the time he was done his heart had slowed and the trembling was gone from his hands.