Silverfox shrugged. ‘It is no longer necessary.’

Such as now. ‘What do you mean?’

The round-faced girl smiled up at the Mhybe. ‘If we are to witness the parley, Mother, we’d best hurry.’

The place of meeting was thirty paces beyond the outermost pickets, situated on a low rise. The recent barrows that had been raised to dispose of the dead after the fall of Pale were visible to the west. The Mhybe wondered if those countless victims now watched from afar the scene unfolding before her. Spirits are born of spilled blood, after all. And without propitiation, they often twist into inimical forces, plagued by nightmare visions and filled with spite. Is it only the Rhivi who know these truths?

From war to alliance – how would such ghosts look upon this?

‘They feel betrayed,’ Silverfox said beside her. ‘I will answer them, Mother.’ She reached out to take the Mhybe’s hand as they walked. ‘This is a time for memories. Ancient memories, and recent memories ...’

‘And you, daughter,’ the Mhybe asked in a low, febrile tone, ‘are you the bridge between the two?’

‘You are wise, Mother, despite your own lack of faith in yourself. The hidden is slowly revealed. Look on these once-enemies. You fight in your mind, raising up all the differences between us, you struggle to hold on to your dislike, your hatred of them, for that is what is familiar. Memories are the foundations of such hatred. But, Mother, memories hold another truth, a secret one, and that is all that we have experienced, yes?’

The Mhybe nodded. ‘So our elders tell us, daughter,’ she said, biting back a faint irritation.

‘Experiences. They are what we share. From opposite sides, perhaps, but they are the same. The same.’

‘I know this, Silverfox. Blame is meaningless. We are all pulled, as tides are pulled by an unseen, implacable will—’

The girl’s hand tightened in the Mhybe’s hand. ‘Then ask Korlat, Mother, what her memories tell her.’

Glancing over at the Tiste Andii, the Rhivi woman raised her brows and said, ‘You have been listening, yet saying nothing. What reply does my daughter expect from you?’

Korlat’s smile was wistful. ‘Experiences are the same. Between your two armies, indeed. But also ... across the breadth of time. Among all who possess memories, whether an individual or a people, life’s lessons are ever the same lessons.’ The Tiste Andii’s now-violet eyes rested on Silverfox. ‘Even among the T’lan Imass – is this what you are telling us, child?’

She shrugged. ‘In all that is to come, think on forgiveness. Hold to it, but know too that it must not always be freely given.’ Silverfox swung her sleepy gaze to Korlat and the dark eyes suddenly hardened. ‘Sometimes forgiveness must be denied.’

Silence followed. Dear spirits, guide us. This child frightens me. Indeed, I can understand Kallor . . . and that is more worrying than anything else.

They came to a halt far to one side of the place of parley just beyond the pickets of Brood’s encampment.