Reaper's Gale

Seren Pedac was in the lead, twenty paces ahead, and Udinaas saw her halt and suddenly crouch, one hand lift-i ng. The air sweeping in was rich with the scent of loam and wood dust. The mouth of the tunnel was small, overdrawn and half blocked by angled fragments of basalt from what had once been an-arched gate, and beyond was darkness.



Seren Pedac waved the rest forward. ‘I will scout out ahead,’ she whispered as they gathered about just inside the cave mouth. ‘Did anyone else notice that there were no hats in that last stretch? That floor was clean.’



‘There are sounds beyond human hearing,’ Silchas Ruin said. ‘The flow of air is channelled through vents and into tubes behind the walls, producing a sound that perturbs bats, insects, rodents and the like. The Short-Tails were skilied at such things.’



‘So, not magic, then?’ Seren Pedac asked. ‘No wards or curses here?’



‘No.’



Udinaas rubbed at his face. His beard was filthy, and there were things crawling in the snarls of hair. ‘Just find out if we’re on the right side of that damned fort, Acquitor.’



‘I was making sure I wouldn’t trip some kind of ancient ward stepping outside, Indebted, something that all these broken boulders suggests has happened before. Unless of course you want to rush out there yourself.’



‘Now why would I do that?’ Udinaas asked. ‘Ruin gave you your answer, Seren Pedac; what are you waiting for?’



‘Perhaps,’ Fear Sengar said, ‘she waits for you to be quiet. We shall all, I suppose, end up waiting for ever in that regard.’



‘Tormenting you, Fear, gives me my only pleasure.’



‘A sad admission indeed,’ Seren Pedac murmured, then edged forward, over the tumbled rocks, and into the night beyond.



Udinaas removed his pack and settled down on the littered floor, dried leaves crunching beneath him. He leaned against a tilted slab of stone and stretched out his legs.



Fear moved up to crouch at the very edge of the cave mouth.



Humming to herself, Kettle wandered off into a nearby side chamber.



Silchas Ruin stood regarding Udinaas. ‘I am curious,’ he said after a time. ‘What gives your life meaning, Letherii?’



‘That’s odd. I was just thinking the same of you, Tiste Andii.’



‘Indeed.’



‘Why would I lie?’



‘Why wouldn’t you?’



‘All right,’ Udinaas said. ‘You have a point.’



‘So you will not answer my question.’



‘You first.’



‘I do not disguise what drives me.’



‘Revenge? Well, fine enough, I suppose, as a motivation



– at least for a while and maybe a while is all you’re really interested in. But let’s be honest here, Silchas Ruin: as the sole meaning for existing, it’s a paltry, pathetic cause.’



‘Whereas you claim to exist to torment Fear Sengar.’



‘Oh, he manages that all on his own.’ Udinaas shrugged. ‘The problem with questions like that is, we rarely find meaning to what we do until well after we’ve done it. At that point we come up with not one but thousands-reasons, excuses, justifications, heartfelt defences. Meaning? Really, Silchas Ruin, ask me something interesting.’



‘Very well. I am contemplating challenging our pursuers



– no more of this unnecessary subterfuge. It offends my nature, truth be told.’



At the tunnel mouth, Fear turned to regard the Tiste Andii. ‘You will kick awake a hornet’s nest, Silchas Ruin. Worse, if this fallen god is indeed behind Rhulad’s power, you might find yourself suffering a fate far more dire than millennia buried in the ground.’



‘Fear’s turning into an Elder before our eyes,’ Udinaas said. ‘Jumping at shadows. You want to take on Rhulad and Hannan Mosag and his K’risnan, Silchas Ruin, you have my blessing. Grab the Errant by the throat and tear this empire to pieces. Turn it all into ash and dust. Level the whole damned continent, Tiste Andii-we’ll just stay here in this cave. Come collect us when you’re finished.’



Fear bared his teeth at Udinaas. ‘Why would he bother sparing us?’



‘I don’t know,’ the ex-slave replied, raising an eyebrow. ‘Pity?’



Kettle spoke from the side chamber’s arched doorway. ‘Why don’t any of you like each other? I like all of you. Even Wither.’



‘It’s all right,’ Udinaas said, ‘we’re all just tortured by who we are, Kettle.’



No-one said much after that.