They went down, the steps beneath them like flattened branches spoking out from the central trunk The air warmed, grew moist and sweet with the smell of humus.

‘Raest,’ Paran said as they continued to descend, ‘the assassin and the Guild Master ... you said they were asleep – how long have they been lying there?’

‘I measure no days within the House, mortal. The Azath took me. Since that event, a few outsiders have sought entry, have probed with sorceries, have indeed walked the yard, but the House has denied them all. The two within the threshold were there when I awoke, and have not moved since. It follows, then, that the House has already chosen.’

As the Deadhouse did Kellanved and Dancer. ‘All very well, but can’t you awaken them?’

‘I have not tried.’

‘Why not?’

The Jaghut paused, glanced back up at the captain. ‘There has been no need.’

‘Are they guardians as well?’ Paran asked as they resumed the descent.

‘Not directly. I suffice, mortal. Unwitting servants, perhaps. Your servants.’

‘Mine? I don’t need servants – I don’t want servants. Furthermore, I don’t care what the Azath expects of me. The House is mistaken in its faith, Raest, and you can tell it that for me. Tell it to find another ... another whatever I am supposed to be.’

‘You are the Master of the Deck. Such things cannot be undone.’

‘The what? Hood’s breath, the Azath had better find a way of undoing that choice, Jaghut,’ Paran growled.

‘It cannot be undone, as I’ve already told you. A Master is needed, so here you are.’

‘I don’t want it!’

‘I weep a river of tears for your plight, mortal. Ah, we have arrived.’

They stood on a landing. Paran judged that they had gone down six, perhaps seven levels into the bowels of the earth. The stone walls had disappeared, leaving only gloom, the ground underfoot a mat of snaking roots.

‘I can go no further, Master of the Deck,’ Raest said. ‘Walk into the darkness.’

‘And if I refuse?’

‘Then I kill you.’

‘Unforgiving bastard, this Azath,’ Paran muttered.

‘I kill you, not for the Azath, but for the wasted effort of this journey. Mortal, you’ve no sense of humour.’

‘And you think you do?’ the captain retorted.

‘If you refuse to go further, then ... nothing. Apart from irritating me, that is. The Azath is patient. You will make the journey eventually, though the privilege of my escort occurs but once, and that once is now.’

‘Meaning I won’t have your cheery company next time? How will I cope?’

‘Miserably, if there was justice in the world.’

Paran faced the darkness. ‘And is there?’

‘You ask that of a Jaghut? Now, do we stand here for ever?’

‘All right, all right,’ the captain sighed. ‘Pick any direction?’

Raest shrugged. ‘They are all one to me.’