House of Chains
‘Assuming the desert cares one way or another, which it doesn’t, I doubt it will make much difference in the long run. A land’s lifetime is far vaster than anything with which we are familiar, vaster, by far, than the spans of these hapless creatures. Besides, Raraku is already mostly dead.’
‘Appearances deceive. There are deep spirits in this Holy Desert, lass. Buried in the rock-’
‘And the life upon that rock, like the sands,’ Lostara asserted, ‘means nothing to those spirits. You are a fool to think otherwise, Pearl.’
‘I am a fool to think many things,’ he muttered.
‘Do not expect me to object to that observation.’
‘It never crossed my mind that you might, Lostara Yil. In any case, I would none the less advise that you cultivate a healthy respect for the mysteries of Raraku. It is far too easy to be blindsided in this seemingly empty and lifeless desert.’
‘As we’ve already discovered.’
He frowned, then sighed. ‘I regret that you view… things that way, and can only conclude that you derive a peculiar satisfaction from discord, and when it does not exist-or, rather, has no reason to exist-you seek to invent it.’
‘You think too much, Pearl. It’s your most irritating flaw, and, let us be honest, given the severity and sheer volume of your flaws, that is saying something. Since this seems to be a time for advice, I suggest you stop thinking entirely.’
‘And how might I achieve that? Follow your lead, perhaps?’
‘I think neither too much nor too little. I am perfectly balanced-this is what you find so attractive. As a capemoth is drawn to fire.’
‘So I am in danger of being burned up?’
‘To a blackened, shrivelled crust.’
‘So, you’re pushing me away for my own good. A gesture of compassion, then.’
‘Fires neither push nor pull. They simply exist, compassionless, indifferent to the suicidal urges of flitting bugs. That is another one of your flaws, Pearl. Attributing emotion where none exists.’
‘I could have sworn there was emotion, two nights past-’
‘Oh, fire burns eagerly when there’s fuel-’
‘And in the morning there’s naught but cold ashes.’
‘Now you are beginning to understand. Of course, you will see that as encouragement, and so endeavour to take your understanding further. But that would be a waste of time, so I suggest you abandon the effort. Be content with the glimmer, Pearl.’
‘I see… murkily. Very well, I will accept your list of advisements.’
‘You will? Gullibility is a most unattractive flaw, Pearl.’
She thought he would scream, was impressed by his sudden clamping of control, releasing his breath like steam beneath a cauldron’s lid, until the pressure died away.
They approached the ascent to the last ridge, Lostara at her most contented thus far this day, Pearl likely to be feeling otherwise.
As they reached the crest the Claw spoke again. ‘What was that you picked up on the last ridge, lass?’
Saw that, did you ? ‘A shiny rock. Caught my eye. I’ve since discarded it.’
‘Oh? So it no longer hides in that pouch on your belt?’
Snarling, she plucked the leather bag from her belt and flung it to the ground, then drew out her chain-backed gauntlets. ‘See for yourself, then.’
He gave her a startled glance, then bent down to collect the pouch.
As he straightened, Lostara stepped forward.
Her gauntlets cracked hard against Pearl’s temple.
Groaning, he collapsed unconscious.
‘Idiot,’ she muttered, retrieving the pouch.
She donned the gauntlets, then, with a grunt, lifted the man and settled him over one shoulder.
Less than two thousand paces ahead lay the oasis, the air above it thick with dust and the smoke of countless fires. Herds of goats were visible along the fringes, in the shade of trees. The remnants of a surrounding wall curved roughly away in both directions.
Carrying Pearl, Lostara made her way down the slope.
She was nearing the base when she heard horses off to her right. Crouching down and thumping Pearl to the ground beside her, she watched as a dozen desert warriors rode into view, coming from the northwest. Their animals looked half starved, heads hanging low, and she saw, among them, two prisoners.
Despite the dust covering them, and the gloom of approaching dusk, Lostara recognized the remnants of uniforms on the two prisoners. Malazans. Ashok Regiment. Thought they’d been wiped out .
The warriors rode without outriders, and did not pause in their steady canter until they reached the oasis, whereupon they vanished beneath the leather-leaved branches of the trees.