‘Toc the Younger,’ Tool interrupted, ‘do you mock me, or your own ignorance? Not even the lichen of the tundra is at peace. All is struggle, all is war for dominance. Those who lose, vanish.’

‘And we’re no different, you’re saying—’

‘We are, soldier. We possess the privilege of choice. The gift of foresight. Though often we come too late in acknowledging those responsibilities...’ The T’lan Imass’s head tilted as he studied the ay before him, and, it seemed, his own skeletal hand where it rested upon the beast’s head.

‘Baaljagg awaits your command, dear undead warrior,’ the woman said upon arriving, her voice a lilting melody. ‘How sweet. Garath, go join your brother in greeting our desiccated guest.’ She met Toe’s gaze and smiled. ‘Garath, of course, might decide your companion’s worth burying – wouldn’t that be fun?’

‘Momentarily,’ Toc agreed. ‘You speak Daru, yet wear the telaba of Seven Cities . . .’

Her brows arched. ‘Do I? Oh, such confusion! Mind you, sir, you speak Daru yet you are from that repressed woman’s empire – what was her name again?’

‘Empress Laseen. The Malazan empire.’ And how did you know that? I’m not in uniform ...

She smiled. ‘Indeed.’

‘I am Toc the Younger, and the T’lan Imass is named Tool’

‘How apt. My, it is hot out here, don’t you think? Let us retire within the Jaghut tower. Garath, cease sniffing the T’lan Imass and awaken the servants.’

Toc watched the burly dog trot towards the tower. The entrance, the scout now saw, was in fact via a balcony, probably the first floor – yet another indication of the depth of the crushed glass. ‘That place doesn’t appear very habitable,’ he observed.

‘Appearances deceive,’ she murmured, once again flashing him a heart-stuttering smile.

‘Have you a name?’ Toc asked her as they began walking.

‘She is Lady Envy,’ Tool said. ‘Daughter of Draconus – he who forged the sword Dragnipur, and was slain by its present wielder, Anomander Rake, lord of Moon’s Spawn, with that selfsame sword. Draconus had two daughters, it is believed, whom he named Envy and Spite—’

‘Hood’s breath, you can’t be serious,’ Toc muttered.

‘The names no doubt amused him, as well,’ the T’lan Imass continued.

‘Really,’ Lady Envy sighed, ‘now you’ve gone and ruined all my fun. Have we met before?’

‘No. None the less, you are known to me.’

‘So it seems! It was, I admit, over-modest of me to assume that I would not be recognized. After all, I’ve crossed paths with the T’lan Imass more than once. At least twice, that is.’

Tool regarded her with his depthless gaze. ‘Knowing who you are does not answer the mystery of your present residency here in Morn, should you look to pursue coyness, Lady. I would know what you seek in this place.’

‘Whatever do you mean?’ she asked mockingly.

As they approached the tower’s entrance a leather-armoured masked figure appeared in the gaping doorway. Toc stopped in his tracks. ‘That’s a Seguleh!’ He spun to Lady Envy. ‘Your servant’s a Seguleh!’