Reaper's Gate & Toll the Hounds - By Steven Erikson Page 0,131

one who hides, who thinks to flee. But no escape is possible. The quarry circles and circles, yet is drawn ever closer to the trap. It pulls, it drags – the creature screams, but no succour is possible – none but my mercy – and that is never free! ' She opened her eyes, and saw a smudge of mist bound within the confines of the inscribed pattern. 'I have you! Ghost, spy – show yourself!'

Soft laughter.

The mist spun, wavered, then settled once more, tendrils reaching out tentatively – beyond the carved borders.

Feather Witch gasped. 'You mock me with your power – yet, coward that you are, you dare not show yourself.'

'Dear girl, this game will eat you alive.' The words, the faintest whisper – the touch of breath along both ears. She started, glared about, sensed a presence behind her and spun round – no-one.

'Who is here?' she demanded.

'Beware the gathering of names . . . it is . . . premature . . .'

'Name yourself, ghost! I command it.'

'Oh, compulsion is ever the weapon of the undeserving. Let us instead bargain in faith. That severed finger you keep round your neck, Caster, what do you intend with it?'

She clutched at the object. 'I will not tell you—'

'Then I in turn will reveal to you the same – nothing.'

She hesitated. 'Can you not guess?'

'Ah, and have I guessed correctly?'

'Yes.'

'Premature.'

'I am biding my time, ghost – I am no fool.'

'No indeed,' the ghost replied. 'Even so, let us extend the bargain—'

'Why? You have revealed nothing of yourself—'

'Patience. Caster of the Tiles, await my . . . encouragement. Before you do what you intend. Await me, and I will assist you.'

She snorted. 'You are a ghost. You have no power—'

'I am a ghost, and that is precisely why I have power. For what you seek, that is.'

'Why should I believe you? Why should I agree to anything you suggest?'

'Very well, my part of the bargain. You speak now with Kuru Qan, once Ceda to King Ezgara Diskanar.'

'Slain by Trull Sengar . . .'

Something like a chuckle. 'Well, someone needed to thrust the spear . . .'

'You knew it was coming?'

'Knowing and being able to do something about it are two different matters, Caster of the Tiles. In any case, lay the true blame at the Errant's feet. And I admit, I am of a mind to call him out on that, eventually. But like you, I understand the necessity of biding one's time. Have we a bargain?'

She licked her lips, then nodded. 'We have.'

'Then I shall leave you to your education. Be careful when casting your tiles – you risk much by so revealing your talents as a seer.'

'But I must know—'

'Knowing and being able to do something about it—'

'Yes,' she snapped, 'I heard you the first time.'

'You lack respect, girl.'

'And be glad of it.'

'You may have a point there. Worth some consideration, I think.'

'Do you now intend to spy on me my every moment down here?'

'No, that would be cruel, not to mention dull. When I come here, you shall be warned – the wind, the mist, yes? Now, witness its vanishing.'

She stared down at the swirling cloud, watched as it faded, then was gone.

Silence in the chamber, the air still beyond her own breath. Kuru Qan, the Ceda! See how I gather allies. Oh, this shall be sweet vengeance indeed!

The waning sun's shafts of dusty light cut across the space where the old temple had stood, although the wreckage filling the lower half of that gap was swallowed in gloom. Fragments of façade were scattered on the street – pieces of rats in dismaying profusion. Edging closer, Samar Dev kicked at the rubble, frowning down at the disarticulated stone rodents. 'This is most . . . alarming,' she said.

'Ah,' Taxilian said, smiling, 'now the witch speaks. Tell me, what do you sense in this fell place?'

'Too many spirits to count,' she murmured. 'And all of them . . . rats.'

'There was a D'ivers once, wasn't there? A terrible demonic thing that travelled the merchant roads across Seven Cities—'

'Gryllen.'

'Yes, that was its name! So, do we have here another such . . . Gryllen?'

She shook her head. 'No, this feels older, by far.'

'And what of that bleeding? Of power?'

'I'm not sure.' Glancing around, she saw a tall, cloaked man leaning against a wall on the other side of the street, watching them. 'Some things, long ago grinding to a halt, should never be reawakened. Alas . . .'

Taxilian sighed. 'You