massive axes whirling in their gauntleted hands.
Quick Ben yelped and dived for cover.
Cursing, Kalam followed, Korbolo Dom's bound body bouncing on his shoulders. He flung himself down beside the wizard as hoofs flashed over them, raining sand and bits of mortar.
Then the heavy cavalry was past.
Kalam pushed the Napan off his back and twisted onto his side to glare at Quick Ben. 'Who in Hood's name were those bastards?'
'We'd best lie low for a time,' the wizard muttered with a grimace, rubbing grit from his eyes. 'Raraku's unleashed her ghosts—'
'And are they the ones singing? Those voices are right inside my head—'
'Mine, too, friend. Tell me, had any conversations with a Tanno Spiritwalker lately?'
'A what? No. Why?'
'Because that is what you're hearing. If it was a song woven around these ancient ghosts we're seeing, well, we'd not be hearing it. In fact, we'd not be hearing much of anything at all. And we'd have been chopped into tiny pieces by now. Kalam, that Tanno song belongs to the Bridgeburners.'
What?
'Makes you wonder about cause and effect, doesn't it? A Tanno stole our tale and fashioned a song – but for that song to have any effect, the Bridgeburners had to die. As a company. And now it has. Barring you and me—'
'And Fiddler. Wait! Fid mentioned something about a Spiritwalker in Ehrlitan.'
'It would have had to have been direct contact. A clasping of hands, an embrace, or a kiss—'
'That bastard sapper – I remember he was damned cagey about something. A kiss? Remind me to give Fiddler a kiss next time I see him, one he'll never forget—'
'Whoever it was and however it happened,' Quick Ben said, 'the Bridgeburners have now ascended—'
'Ascended? What in the Queen's name does that mean?'
'Damned if I know, Kalam. I've never heard of such a thing before. A whole company – there's no precedent for this, none at all.'
'Except maybe the T'lan Imass.'
The wizard's dark eyes narrowed on his friend. 'An interesting thought,' he murmured. Then sighed. 'In any case, Raraku's ghosts have risen on that song. Risen ... to battle. But there's more – I swear I saw a Wickan standard back near the Dogslayer trenches just as we were hightailing it out of there.'
'Well, maybe Tavore's taken advantage of all this—'
'Tavore knows nothing of it, Kalam. She carries an otataral sword, after all. Maybe the mages she has with her sense something, but the darkness that's descended on this oasis is obscuring everything.'
Kalam grunted. 'Any other good news to tell me, Quick?'
'The darkness is sorcery. Remember whenever Anomander Rake arrived some place with his warren unveiled? That weight, the trembling ground, the overwhelming pressure?'
'Don't tell me the Son of Darkness is coming—'
'I hope not. I mean, I don't think so. He's busy – I'll explain later. No, this is more, uh, primal, I think.'
'Those howls,' Kalam grated. 'Two hounds, Quick Ben. I had a run in with them myself. They're like the Shadow Hounds, only somehow worse—'
The wizard was staring across at him.
'Stop it, Quick. I don't like that look. I got away because I loosed a handful of azalan demons at them. Didn't stop those hounds, but it was enough for me to make good my escape.'
Quick Ben's brows slowly arched. '"A handful of azalan demons," Kalam? And where have you been lately?'
'You ain't the only one with a few tales to tell.'
The wizard cautiously rose into a crouch, scanned the area on the other side of the crumbled wall. 'Two Hounds of Darkness, you said. The Deragoth, then. So, who broke their chains, I wonder?'
'That's just typical!' Kalam snapped. 'What don't you know?'
'A few things,' the wizard replied under his breath. 'For example, what are those hounds doing here?'
'So long as we stay out of their path, I couldn't care less—'
'No, you misunderstood.' Quick Ben nodded towards where his gaze was fixed on the clearing beyond. 'What are they doing here?'
Kalam groaned.
Their bristly hackles were raised above their strangely humped, massive shoulders. Thick, long necks and broad, flattened heads, the jaw muscles bulging. Scarred, black hides, and eyes that burned pure and empty of light.
As large as a steppe horse, but bulkier by far, padding with heads lowered into the flagstoned square. There was something about them that resembled a hyena, and a plains bear as well. A certain sly avidness merged with arrogant brutality.
They slowed, then halted, lifting glistening snouts into the air.
They had come to destroy. To tear life from all flesh, to mock all claims of mastery, to shatter