She stood looking down on him. ‘Are you chilled? You shiver and tremble. Has fever come upon you?’

‘I believe so,’ he replied. ‘Your ministrations may have failed as well. I hear voices. Women arguing and moaning in pleasure – this seems a strange union to me.’

‘They abuse Osserc,’ Ardata replied distractedly.

He frowned up at her, even as he drew the furs tighter about himself. ‘Who?’

‘The dragons have assumed Tiste forms. They are Soletaken, it seems, and possess, I now suspect, ancient blood of the First Tiste. It explains their singular obsession with thrones, and power.’

‘Your thoughts are elsewhere, Ardata. I weary you—’

‘Oh, shut up, Kanyn Thrall. Self-pity is most unattractive. Yes, my mind is on other things. Specifically, should I endeavour to kill two dragons? Osserc’s soul will seal the gate, and then I must leave here, journeying south. I fear those bitches will simply pluck him free the moment I depart. The only reason they might not is fear of yet more Draconic rivals in this realm. Do you see my dilemma?’

He studied her, jaws clenching as another wave of agony rippled through him. ‘My failing compounds it, then, and that, Ardata, is simple fact, not self-pity.’

She crouched down beside him and set a cool hand upon his forehead. ‘You are afire, Thel Akai. Against this I can do nothing.’

‘Then leave me here and be on your way, Ardata.’

‘My wife has returned from the Vitr,’ she said. ‘Her memory is lost. I must find her. I must return her to me.’

He nodded.

After another moment, Ardata straightened. ‘It is a curious mercy,’ she said, ‘that I must now drag Osserc from the clutches of two insatiable women.’

‘Given what awaits him, yes, most curious.’

‘Fare well, Kanyn Thrall.’

‘And you, Ardata.’

Even after she left the dusty chamber, he felt her presence. His fever had hatched a thousand spider eggs beneath his skin, and the creatures now swarmed. Let us not call this love, then. But still, woman, it seems your touch is eternal. Ah, bless me.

* * *

They heard the shrieking before they came within sight of the ruined temple. Scabandari glanced at K’rul. ‘Is this expected? Are we about to come upon some dread sacrifice to a long-dead god?’

Ahead, wild firelight flared and flickered, limning in light the ragged lines of the temple. Above this, something vast and ominous hovered in the air, dull and throbbing crimson.

In answer to Scabandari’s questions, K’rul sighed. ‘She hesitates. Not because her victim shrieks his terror at the fate awaiting him, but because she senses me and Skillen Droe.’

In that moment two huge winged shapes lifted into the air, rising up to flank the suspended wound.

Skillen Droe clacked his jaws and opened his own wings, but K’rul turned to his companion, one hand lifting. ‘A moment, assassin, if you please. Yes, they scented you, and know you for who you are.’