“Chena!” she called to the hyena, now deep in the ranks of the mob. She reared up, latching her jaws onto the neck of a supplicant and crushing the spine. She cast the body away and began to claw her way towards Seeker, jaws snapping, long-nailed paws slashing. But the throng was too thick, several hands latching onto her pelt, halting her progress whilst others leapt on her back to bear her down.

Seeker let out a feral cry of anguish as the supplicants tore at Chena’s thrashing form, her snarls soon becoming piteous and plaintive whimpers. Seeker started forward, slashing wildly with her scimitar even as the beast’s cries dwindled and died.

“No.” Pilgrim caught Seeker about the waist, bearing her towards the pillar. “She’s gone.”

Seeker struggled in his grip, drawing her scimitar back to stab at his eyes, but then stopping at his implacable, almost judgemental stare. “Your daughter,” was all he said. It was enough.

She nodded and he released her, pushing her ahead as they started along the pillar to the far side. Fresh cracks appeared in the monolith’s surface as they ran, adding further ruin to its joyous carvings. Pilgrim felt the great mass of stone begin to crumble when they were still several paces from the end and shouted at Seeker to jump, following her a heartbeat later. The pillar came apart whilst he was still in the air, the summit subliming into fragments as his midriff connected with the island’s edge. His purchase on the smooth surface was meagre and he would most likely have followed the pillar into the chasm if Seeker hadn’t leapt to grip his arm, arresting his fall long enough for his foot to find a toehold and push him to safety.

They lay side by side, panting in the rain as it subsided into a faint drizzle. When Pilgrim gathered strength enough to get to his feet he saw the supplicants on the other side drifting away in apparent indifference. With their chance of regaining the Mad God’s attention gone, it seemed their cursed state reasserted itself. Within moments their discordant chorus rose once more, hundreds of disappointed souls begging to a god too uncaring or mad to hear them.

“I intend to take my time with that treacherous fuck,” Seeker said, taking Pilgrim’s proffered hand to haul herself upright. “I trust that won’t be a problem.”

They both turned to the tall black rectangle that formed the entrance to the Crescent as a loud and very long scream sounded from within.

“I doubt either of us have a say in his fate now,” Pilgrim said, starting forward.

Nine

Chapter Nine

The Mad God

“H ow does it go again? Be so good as to remind me.”

“A g-good man hath no need of…of riches, only…only the company of souls worthy of his g-goodness.”