‘I sleep restful in my tent, Heboric, as far as those questings are concerned. As do you in your tent. Each alone. Harmless.’

‘You are more than a match for their sorceries, then. Which makes you more powerful than any of them.’ He heard as much as saw L’oric’s shrug, and after a moment the ex-priest sighed. ‘If you wish details concerning Sha’ik and this new Master of the Deck, then it must be the three of us who meet. And for that to occur, you will have to reveal more of yourself to the Chosen One than you might wish.’

‘Tell me this, at least. This new Master – he was created in the wake of the Malazan disaster on Genabackis. Or do you deny that? That bridge on which he stands – he was of, or is somehow related to, the Bridgeburners. And those ghostly guardians are all that remains of the Bridgeburners, for they were destroyed in the Pannion Domin.’

‘I cannot be certain of any of that,’ Heboric replied, ‘but what you suggest seems likely.’

‘So, the Malazan influence ever grows – not just on our mundane world, but throughout the warrens, and now in the Deck of Dragons.’

‘You make the mistake of so many of the empire’s enemies, L’oric. You assume that all that is Malazan is perforce unified, in intent and in goal. Things are far more complicated than you imagine. I do not believe this Master of the Deck is some servant of the Empress. Indeed, he kneels before no-one.’

‘Then why the Bridgeburner guardians?’

Heboric sensed that the question was a leading one, but decided he would play along. ‘Some loyalties defy Hood himself—’

‘Ah, meaning he was a soldier in that illustrious company. Well, things are beginning to make sense.’

‘They are?’

‘Tell me, have you heard of a Spiritwalker named Kimloc?’

‘The name is vaguely familiar. But not from around here. Karakarang? Rutu Jelba?’

‘Now resident of Ehrlitan. His history is not relevant here, but somehow he must have come into recent contact with a Bridgeburner. There is no other explanation for what he has done. He has given them a song, Heboric. A Tanno song, and, curiously, it begins here. In Raraku. Raraku, friend, is the birthplace of the Bridgeburners. Do you know the significance of such a song?’

Heboric turned away, faced the hearth and its dry heat, and said nothing.

‘Of course,’ L’oric went on after a moment, ‘that significance has now diminished somewhat, since the Bridgeburners are no more. There can be no sanctification...’

‘No, I suppose not,’ Heboric murmured.

‘For the song to be sanctified, a Bridgeburner would have to return to Raraku, to the birthplace of the company. And that does not seem likely now, does it?’

‘Why is it necessary a Bridgeburner return to Raraku?’