own experience must be. She tried to imagine the crushing weight of all that ice, its dimensions. Just how far away was it? The rolling landscape gave no clue. She brushed the wet sand from her clothes and shivered in the cold wind.
A breathless voice spoke behind her: ‘I’d forgotten just how impressive it is at first sight.’
She spun, knives out, only to jump back and yelp her surprise.
Whatever it was, it was dead. Or rather, it was a corpse. Desiccated flesh, empty eye sockets, grinning yellowed teeth. Rags of clothing hung from its angular frame – what was once a thick layered cloak over age-worn leather and bronze armour. The hilt of a sword in a corroded scabbard jutted behind one shoulder. Cold horror stole over Kiska.
‘You’re from Malaz?’ the corpse asked in archaic Talian.
‘Yes,’ she stammered, ‘Malaz. Malaz Island.’
Its head, seemingly welded to its helm of corroded bronze, nodded slowly. ‘An island now, is it? I have walked that land many times.’
‘Who are you? Where am I?’
‘I am called Edgewalker. I walk the borders of Kurald Emurlahn. What you call Shadow. And this is part of that realm.’
Kiska pointed a knife to the far mountain of ice. ‘Then what is that?’
‘Something that belongs here no more than you.’
‘Oh.’ Kiska lowered her arm, shivered. ‘Well, I didn’t ask to come here.’
‘You were swept up by a Changing, a shadow storm. They will be frequent. I suggest you stay indoors.’
‘Indoors?’ Kiska barked a laugh. ’Where?’ Then she clamped her mouth shut. ‘You mean . . . you will send me back?’
‘Yes. I will. You do not belong here.’
‘Then I suppose I should give you my thanks.’ Kiska pushed back her hair, eyed the dunes. Was this really Malaz? Then she remembered. ‘Do you know a man named Oleg?’
‘No. I know of no one by that name.’
‘What of a ruler? If this is Shadow then does it have a throne?’
Edgewalker remained silent for a time, long enough for Kiska to lean closer. Had he died?
But at last he asked, ‘What of it?’
‘I was told someone would attempt to take it this night.’
‘Countless have tried. All have failed. Even those who succeeded for a time. Myself included, after a fashion. Now I walk its boundaries forever. And I fared better than most.’
Bizarrely, Kiska felt disappointed by the acknowledgement. She’d half-suspected, half-hoped, that Oleg had been insane. Now she tried to recall more of his babbling.
A low moaning raised the hairs at her neck. The creature raised one sinewy arm like the twisted branch of an oak and pointed back across the stream. Gold rings glinted on his withered fingers. ‘A Hound has found your scent. Run while you can, child.’
She needed no more convincing, yet she suddenly remembered. ‘What is entombment? What is that?’
‘The price of failure. Eternal enslavement to Shadow House.’
The baying returned, closer now, echoing from the distant wall of glittering ice. ‘You haven’t much time,’ said the being, its voice no more than the scratching of leaves. ‘Go to Obo’s tower. Beg his protection.’
‘Obo’s tower? But that’s an empty ruin. Obo’s just a myth.’
‘No doubt so were certain Hounds a mere hour ago.’
Kiska blinked her surprise. ‘But what of you? Will you be safe?’
The brittle flesh of the being’s neck creaked as it cocked its head to regard her through empty sockets. ‘The Hounds and I are akin. Slaves to Shadow in our own ways. But I thank you for your concern. Now you must go.’
The creature raised a clawed hand in farewell and at that the world darkened. All around shadows writhed like black wings. For an instant she thought she heard a chorus of whispers in a confusing multitude of languages. Then the shadows whipped away, and she recognized where she stood: Riverwalk, south of Malaz River.
Immediately, a howl tore through the night so loud that Kiska jumped as if the Hound was beside her, ready to close its jaws. She took off at a run, not daring to glance behind. Ahead, a mere few blocks, the jagged top of Obo’s ruined tower thrust into the clouds like a broken dagger. Another bellow, loud as a thunderclap, and she stumbled. Screams rose around her, torn from the throats of terrified citizens locked in their houses. She raced around a corner and over an open square, then dived the low stone wall of the tower grounds. Amongst the leaves and tossed garbage of the abandoned yard she lay trembling, straining to listen.
But she heard nothing, only the surf,