The Jaghut’s twisted mouth fashioned a bitter grin. ‘Those ashes… yes, well. There are none to see them, just as none of us can do aught but remember heat yet remain doomed to feel no warmth from the memory, so we know but cannot know what it was like to be born, nor what it will be like to die. Ashes… they will tell you that something has burned, but what is the shape of that thing? For those who burned but faintly, some form remains, enough with which to guess. But for those who burned fiercely, ah, as you say, nothing but a heap of ashes, swiftly scattered on the wind.’

‘Is there no hope for legacy, Raest?’

‘By all means hope, Hanako. Indeed, aspire. But what the future will read from what you leave behind is beyond your power to control. And if that is not humbling, then nothing is.’

‘And yet,’ said Hanako, ‘I travel to find an army that seeks death, to wage a war that cannot be won. In my heart, I yearn for failure, and dream of glory.’

‘And no doubt you will find it,’ Raest replied.

‘Tell me of the Azathanai.’

‘Squalid wretches every one of them. Look not to the Azathanai for guidance.’

‘How did you walk across the bottom of the lake, carrying your armour?’

‘How? A few steps, amidst clouds of silt, and then back to the surface, and then down again, for a few more strides. It was dull work, I tell you. There is a forest down there, making a tangle of everything. And hearthstones in rings, like pocks, making treacherous holes. Tree stumps and overly curious fish. Biting eels. I’ve had better days.’ With that, Raest rose. ‘Sleep beckons.’

But Hanako was not yet finished with this unexpected guest. ‘Raest, can you heal Erelan Kreed?’

The Jaghut paused, and then said, ‘No. As I said, the blood will either kill him or it won’t. But what I can offer is a warning. The kin of the slain dragon will know your friend by the scent of that Draconic blood. Some will seek to resume old arguments.’

Hanako stared at Raest. ‘They will hunt us?’

The Jaghut shrugged. ‘You have lively days ahead of you, Thel Akai.’

* * *

With dawn’s light creeping around the sides of the mountain to the east, Garelko, the eldest of Lasa Rook’s husbands, walked up to the side of the dragon’s carcass and gave it a kick. Rank gases hissed out from somewhere below. Coughing, he staggered back.

From the makeshift hut the three Thel Akai had built for the night just past, up beyond the high-water mark, Ravast laughed. Crouched in the entranceway, he watched as Garelko then waded into the water to approach the carcass from that side.

‘Aai!’ Garelko cried as he looked down. ‘The water seethes with ravenous crayfish!’