Since this dawn she'd ridden hard, pushing to keep her schedule intact after travelling so slowly in the first few days. Both horses were in need of rest, so she now walked ahead of them, the reins tucked through her belt. And beside her walked Tool.

Though the Imass spoke often, at her prodding, of many fascinating things, he denied her efforts regarding matters important to the Empire, and to Laseen's continued power. All seemed to return to the vows he had taken at the last Gathering. For the Imass, something was coming to a head. She wondered if it was somehow connected with freeing this Jaghut Tyrant. And that was a disturbing thought.

Still, she would not permit any ambivalence to threaten the mission. In this she was Laseen's arm, and it was directed not of Lorn's own accord but by the Empress. Dujek and Tayschrenn had well reminded her of that truth. Thus, she played no role in all this – not as the woman named Lorn. How could she be held responsible for anything?

'In my years among humans,' Tool said, beside her, 'I have come to recollect the passing of emotions in body and expressions. Adjunct, you have worn a frown the past two days. Is this significant?'

'No,' she snapped. 'It isn't.' Purging her thoughts of personal feelings had never been so difficult as it was now – was this a lasting effect of Oponn's meddling? Perhaps Tool could rid her of it. 'Tool,' she said, 'what is significant, as you put it, is that I don't know enough about what we're doing. We are seeking a standing stone, the barrow's marker. Well, assuming it can be found, why was it not so long ago? Why could not three thousand years of hunting find this barrow?'

'We will find the standing stone,' Tool replied calmly. 'It marks the barrow in truth, but the barrow is not there.'

The Adjunct scowled. More riddles. 'Explain.'

The Imass was silent for a minute, then he said, 'I am born of an Elder Warren, Adjunct, known as Tellann. It is more than a source of magic, it is also a time.'

'Are you suggesting that the barrow exists in a different time? Is that how you plan to reach it – by using your Tellann Warren?'

'No, there is no parallel time any different from the one we know. That time is gone, past. It is more a matter of ... flavour. Adjunct, may I continue?'

Lorn's mouth thinned into a straight line.

'The Jaghut who entombed the Tyrant were born of a different Elder Warren. But the term "Elder" is relative only to the existing Warrens of this age. The Jaghut Omtose Phellack is not "Elder" when compared to Tellann. They are the same, of the same flavour. Do you understand thus far, Adjunct?'

'Patronizing bastard,' she muttered to herself. 'Yes, Tool.'