Midnight Tides & The Bonehunters - By Steven Erikson Page 0,197

You know how I dislike crowds, Brys.'

'Crowds? You've never disliked crowds, Tehol.'

'I do now.'

Brys glowered, then sighed. 'All right. One.'

'And that will make you happy, then? Excellent—'

'No more sleeping on your roof.'

'I'm afraid, brother, that won't be possible.'

'Why not?'

Tehol gestured. 'Look at this place! It's a mess! Besides, Bugg snores. And we're not talking mild snoring, either. Imagine being chained to the floor of a cave, with the tide crashing in, louder, louder, louder—'

'I have in mind three guards, all brothers,' Brys said, 'who can spell each other. One will therefore always be with you, even when you're sleeping on your roof.'

'So long as they don't snore—'

'They won't be asleep, Tehol! They'll be standing guard!'

'All right. Calm down. I am accepting, aren't I? Now, how about some soup, just to tide you over until you break your fast?'

Brys glanced at the pot. 'There's wine in it, isn't there?'

'Indeed. Only the best, at that.'

'Fine. Half a bowl.'

Tehol and Bugg exchanged pleased smiles.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Black glass stands between us

The thin face of otherness

Risen into difference

These sibling worlds

You cannot reach through

Or pierce this shade so distinct

As to make us unrecognizable

Even in reflection

The black glass stands

And that is more than all

And the between us

Gropes but never finds

Focus or even meaning

The between us is ever lost

In that barrier of darkness

When backs are turned

And we do little more than refuse

Facing ourselves.

Preface to The Nerek

Absolution Myrkas Preadict

Light and heat rose in waves from the rock, swirled remorselessly along the narrow track. The wraiths had fled to cracks and fissures and huddled there now, like bats awaiting dusk. Seren Pedac paused to await Buruk. She set her pack down, then tugged at the sweat-sodden, quilted padding beneath her armour, feeling it peel away from her back like skin. She was wearing less than half her kit, the rest strapped onto the pack, yet it still dragged at her after the long climb to the summit of the pass.

She could hear nothing from beyond the crest twenty paces behind her, and considered going back to check on her charge. Then, faintly, came a curse, then scrabbling sounds.

The poor man.

They had been hounded by the wraiths the entire way. The ghostly creatures made the very air agitated and restless. Sleep was difficult, and the constant motion flitting in their peripheral vision, the whispered rustling through their camps, left their nerves raw and exhausted.

She glared a moment at the midday sun, then wiped the gritty sweat from her brow and walked a few paces ahead on the trail. They were almost out of Edur territory. Another thousand paces. After that, another day's worth of descent to the river. Without the wagons, they would then be able to hire a river boat to take them the rest of the way down to Trate. Another day for that.

And then? Will he still hold me to the contract? It seemed pointless, and so she had assumed he would simply release her, at least for the duration of the war, and she would be free to journey back to Letheras. But Buruk the Pale had said nothing of that. In fact, he had not said much of anything since leaving the Hiroth village.

She turned as he clambered onto the summit's flat stretch. Clothed in dust and streaks of sweat, beneath them a deeply flushed face and neck. Seren walked back towards him. 'We will rest here for a time.'

He coughed, then asked, 'Why?' The word was a vicious growl.

'Because we need it, Buruk.'

'You don't. And why speak for me? I am fine, Acquitor. Just get us to the river.'

Her pack held both their possessions and supplies. She had cut down a sapling and trimmed it to serve as a walking stick for him, and this was all he carried. His once fine clothes were ragged, the leggings torn by sharp rocks. He stood before her, wheezing, bent over and leaning heavily on the stick. 'I mean to rest, Buruk,' she said after a moment. 'You can do as you please.'

'I can't stand being watched!' the merchant suddenly shrieked. 'Always watching! Those damned shades! No more!' With that he stumbled past her on the trail.

Seren returned to her pack and slung it once more over her shoulders. One sentiment she could share with Buruk: the sooner this trip was over, the better. She set out in his wake.

A dozen paces along and she reached his side. Then was past.

By the time Seren arrived at the clearing where the borders had been agreed over a century ago, Buruk