The Crippled God

‘I begin to suspect the gift wasn’t the sword. The gift was what the sword meant – what it means .’ He sheathed the weapon. ‘The time has come, friend, for our last stand. War we shall now wage.’



Another rattle from Tulas Shorn’s dry throat, but this time it was laughter. ‘I delight in this irony, beloved blade-brother. Very well, let us go and kill some dragons.’ Then he paused and cocked his head at Silchas. ‘Korabas … will she thank us?’



‘Do you expect her to?’



‘No, I suppose not. Why should she? We will fail.’



‘Now,’ Silchas mused, ‘you give me reason to wonder. After all, will this not be the first time that she does not fall alone?’



Tulas was silent for a moment, and then he said, ‘My friend, our deaths shall be our gift to her.’



‘Tulas, can two Ancients make a Storm?’



‘We shall have to try.’



Anomander, I believe I shall see you soon. And Andarist, too .



‘Since we are about to die, Silchas, will you tell me what happened to the Throne of Shadow?’



Silchas Ruin smiled and shook his head. ‘Perhaps, if the throne so desires, it will one day tell you itself.’



‘Thrones cannot speak.’



‘That is true, and it’s just as well, don’t you think?’



‘It is a good thing we are going to die side by side,’ Tulas Shorn growled, ‘else I would be forced to fight you after all.’



They had moved well apart, and now they veered.



And two Ancient dragons, one living, the other undead, lifted into the empty sky.



Olar Ethil crouched in the grasses like a hare about to be flushed by a hawk. Torrent studied her for a moment longer, struggling to disguise his dark satisfaction, and then turned to check once more on the three children. They slept on – the hag had done something to them. It was just past midday and they’d not travelled far since the dawn. Behind him, the Bonecaster was muttering to herself.



‘Too many came through – nowhere to hide. I know now what is being attempted. It cannot work. I want it for myself – I will have it for myself! There are Ancients in the sky, but I am the most ancient one of all. I will see them driven back … but first, Korabas needs to die. They need to fail!’



Torrent walked over to his horse. Examined the primitive-looking arrows in the quiver strapped beside the bow. Then he glanced back at Olar Ethil. ‘What are we waiting for?’



Her battered face lifted. ‘I will not be part of this fight.’



He looked round, seeing nothing but empty plains. ‘What fight?’



‘You are as good as dead already, pup. Soon I won’t need you any more. I have gifts to give. And he will forgive me – you’ll see, he’ll forgive me.’



‘How can I see anything if I’m to be dead soon?’



She straightened, kicked at the grasses. Two skeletal lizards dodged out, evading her gnarled foot. He heard their clacking jaws as they scampered past him, down the slope and away.



‘That’s it then,’ Olar Ethil rasped, watching them flee. ‘They’re gone. Good. I never trusted them – GO!’ She hobbled to the edge of the ridge, shouted after them, ‘Find the great Storm of T’iam! As if that will help you, hah!’ Then she wheeled and stabbed a crooked finger at Torrent. ‘I am watching you, pup!’



Torrent sighed. ‘It’s all going wrong, isn’t it?’



‘Errastas was a fool! And all the Elders who listened to him – his madness will kill them all! Good! So long as he leaves me alone.’



‘You’ve lost your mind, hag.’



‘Wake them up!’ Olar Ethil snapped. ‘We need to go south – and we must hurry!’



‘I smell the sea on this wind,’ Torrent said, facing east.



‘Of course you do, you fool. Now get the runts up – we must go!’



You are losing your grip, witch, and you know it, don’t you? You think that whatever you set out to do will be enough, that it will solve everything – but now you’re discovering that it won’t. I hope I do live for a while longer – long enough to be standing over your corpse .



‘Your mind leaks, pup.’



It only leaks what I let through .



She shot him a look. Torrent turned away, went to awaken the children.



Telorast lunged and leapt alongside Curdle. ‘We’ll be safe there, Curdle, won’t we? The chains of our curse – broken in the Storm! Right?’



‘What I planned from the very start, Telorast – and if you weren’t so thick you’d have guessed that long ago.’