is possible.'
'Agreed, Preda.'
She studied him briefly, then said, 'Would that you could join us on the field of battle, Brys.'
'Thank you for that, Preda. Errant be with you.'
'I'd rather the Ceda,' she said, then added, 'I apologize. I know he was your friend.'
'He still is,' Brys said.
She nodded, then departed, her boots echoing in the hallway.
Brys stared after her. In a few days from now she might be dead.
So might I.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
The Betrayer stands in the shadow of the Empty Throne. That is why it is empty.
The Casting of the Tiles
Ceda Parudu Erridict
The mass of refugees had forced them from the main road, but Seren Pedac was familiar with all the old tracks winding through the countryside, the herder paths, quarry and logging roads, the smugglers' trails. They were skirting an overgrown limestone quarry four leagues north from Brous as the sun sank behind the trees on their right.
The Acquitor found herself riding alongside the mage, Corlo. 'I have been wondering,' she said. 'The sorcery you use. I have never heard of magic that steals the will from its victims, that reaches into their minds.'
'Not surprised,' he said in a grunt. 'Here in this backwater, all the sorcery is raw and ugly. No subtlety, no refinement of the powers. Yours is a land where most of the doors are closed. I doubt there's been any innovation in the study of sorcery in the past ten thousand years.'
'Thank you for those admiring sentiments, Corlo. Maybe you'd care to explain things for my ignorant self.'
He sighed. 'Where to start?'
'Manipulating people's minds.'
'Mockra. That's the warren's name.'
'All right, bad idea. Go back further. What's a warren?'
'Well, even that's not easy to answer, lass. It's a path of magic. The forces that govern all existence are aspected. Which means—'
'Aspected. In the way the Holds are aspected?'
'The Holds.' He shook his head. 'Sitting in a wagon with square wheels and complimenting each other on the smooth ride. That's the Holds, Acquitor. They were created in a world long gone, a world where the forces were rougher, wilder, messier. The warrens, well, those are wheels without corners.'
'You're not helping much here, Corlo.'
He scratched at his beard. 'Damned fleas. All right. Paths of aspected magic. Like forces and unlike forces. Right? Unlike forces repel, and like forces hold together, you see. Same as water in a river, all flowing the same way. Sure, there's eddies, draws and such, but it all heads down eventually. I'll talk about those eddies later. So, the warrens are those rivers, only you can't see them. The current is invisible, and what you can see is only the effect. Watch a mob in a square, the way the minds of every person in it seem to melt into one. Riots and public executions, or battles, for that matter, they're all hints of Mockra, they're what you can see. But a mage who's found a way into the warren of Mockra, well, that mage can reach deeper, down into that water. In fact, that mage can jump right in and swim with the current. Find an eddy and step back out, in a different place from where he started.'
'So when you say "path" you mean it in a physical sense.'
'Only if you choose to use it that way. Mockra's not a good example; the eddies take you nowhere, mostly. Because it's sorcery of the mind, and the mind's a lot more limited than we'd care to think. Take Meanas – that's another warren. It's aspected to shadows and illusion, a child of Thyr, the warren of Light. Separate but related. Open the warren of Meanas, and you can travel through shadows. Unseen, and fast as thought itself, nearly. And illusions, well, that reveals the sisterhood to Mockra, for it is a kind of manipulation of the mind, or, at least, of perception, via the cunning reshaping of light and shadow and dark.'
'Do the Tiste Edur employ this Meanas?' Seren asked.
'Uh, no. Not really. Theirs is a warren not normally accessible to humans. Kurald Emurlahn. It's Shadow, but Shadow more as a Hold than a warren. Besides, Kurald Emurlahn is shattered. In pieces. The Tiste Edur can access but one fragment and that's all.'
'All right. Mockra and Meanas and Thyr. There are others?'
'Plenty, lass. Rashan, Ruse, Tennes, Hood—'
'Hood. You use that word when you curse, don't you?'
'Aye, it's the warren of Death. It's the name of the god himself. But that's the other thing about warrens. They can be realms, entire worlds. Step through and