Chapters (40)
- ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
- DRAMATIS PERSONAE
- PROLOGUE
- BOOK ONE - FACES IN THE ROCK
- CHAPTER ONE
- CHAPTER TWO
- CHAPTER THREE
- CHAPTER FOUR
- BOOK TWO - COLD IRON
- CHAPTER FIVE
- CHAPTER SIX
- CHAPTER SEVEN
- CHAPTER EIGHT
- CHAPTER NINE
- CHAPTER TEN
- CHAPTER ELEVEN
- BOOK THREE - SOMETHING BREACHES
- CHAPTER TWELVE
- CHAPTER THIRTEEN
- CHAPTER FOURTEEN
- CHAPTER FIFTEEN
- CHAPTER SIXTEEN
- CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
- BOOK FOUR - HOUSE OF CHAINS
- CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
- CHAPTER NINETEEN
- CHAPTER TWENTY
- CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
- CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
- CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
- CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
- CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
- CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
- EPILOGUE
- GLOSSARY
- ASCENDANTS
- BRIDGEBURNERS
- ELDER PEOPLES
- THE WARRENS
- THE DECK OF DRAGONS
Karsa shook himself, then looked down once more.
The ring was now broken. The Jaghut’s eyes were wide as she stared up at him, movement stirring her limbs.
‘Never before,’ she sighed, then shook her head as if in disbelief. ‘Ignorance, honed into a weapon. Extraordinary, Thelomen Toblakai.’
Karsa crouched down beside his pack. ‘Are you hungry? Thirsty?’
She was slow in sitting up. The T’lan Imass had stripped her, leaving her naked, but she seemed unaffected by the bitter cold air now filling the chamber. Though she appeared young, he suspected she was anything but. He felt her eyes watching him as he prepared the meal.
‘You crossed swords with Icarium. There had ever been but a single conclusion to such an ill-fated thing, but that you are here is proof that you somehow managed to avoid it.’
Karsa shrugged. ‘No doubt we will resume our disagreement the next time we meet.’
‘How did you come to be here, Karsa Orlong?’
‘I am seeking a horse, Jaghut. The journey was long, and I was led to understand that this dream world would make it shorter.’
‘Ah, the ghost-warriors hovering behind you. Even so, you take a grave risk travelling the Tellann Warren. I owe you my life, Karsa Orlong.’ She cautiously climbed to her feet. ‘How can I repay you?’
He straightened to face her, and was surprised – and pleased – to see that she almost matched him in height. Her hair was long, murky brown, tied at the back. He studied her for a moment, then said, ‘Find for me a horse.’
Her thin eyebrows rose fractionally. ‘That is all, Karsa Orlong?’
‘Perhaps one more thing – what is your name?’
‘That is what you would ask?’
‘No.’
‘Aramala.’
He nodded and turned once more to readying the meal. ‘I would know all you can tell me, Aramala, of the seven who first found you.’
‘Very well. If I may ask something in turn. You passed through a place on your way here, where Jhag had been . . . imprisoned. I shall of course free those who have survived.’
‘Of course.’
‘They are half-bloods.’
‘Aye, so I am told.’
‘Do you not wonder at what the other half is?’
He glanced up, then slowly frowned.
She smiled. ‘There is much, I think, that I must tell you.’
Some time later, Karsa Orlong strode from the tower. He moved on, resuming the trail of the army where it began once again beyond the frozen ground of Omtose Phellack.
When he finally emerged from the warren, into the heat of late afternoon on the world of his birth, he found himself on the edge of a ridge of battered hills. Pausing, he glanced behind him, and could make out, at the very rim of the horizon, a city – probably Sarpachiya – and the glimmer of a vast river.