Reaper's Gale (The Malazan Book of the Fallen #7)
Page 139‘A concourse?’ Quick Ben grimaced. ‘Trull, if this is a concourse beneath us it’s the size of a city-state.’
Onrack said, ‘You will find one such construct, Wizard, covering the southeast peninsula of Stratem. K’Chain Che’Malle. A place where ritual wars were fought-before all ritual was abandoned.’
‘You mean when the Short-Tails rebelled.’
Trull swore under his breath. ‘I hate it when everyone knows more than me.’ Then he snorted. ‘Mind you, my company consists of a mage and an undead, so I suppose it’s no surprise I falter in comparison.’
‘Falter?’ Onrack’s neck creaked loud as the warrior turned to regard the Tiste Edur. ‘Trull Sengar, you are the Knight of Shadow.’
Quick Ben seemed to choke.
Above the wizard’s sudden fit of coughing, Trull shouted: ‘I am what7. Was this Cotillion’s idea? That damned upstart-’
‘Cotillion did not choose you, friend,’ Onrack said. ‘I cannot tell you who made you what you now are. Perhaps the Eres’al, although I do not comprehend the nature of her claim within the realm of Shadow. One thing, however, is very clear-she has taken an interest in you, Trull Sengar. Even so, I do not believe the Eres’al was responsible. I believe you yourself were.’
The T’lan Imass slowly tilted its head to one side. ‘Warrior, you stood before Icarium. You held the Lifestealer. You did what no warrior has ever done.’
‘Absurd,’ snapped Trull. ‘I was finished. If not for Quick Ben here-and the Eres’al-I’d be dead, my chopped-up bones mouldering outside the throne room.’
‘It is your way, my friend, to disarm your own achievements.’
‘Onrack-’
Quick Ben laughed. ‘He’s calling you modest, Edur. And don’t bother denying the truth of that-you still manage to startle me on that count. I’ve lived most of my life among mages or in the ranks of an army, and in neither company did I ever find much in the way of self-deprecation. We were all too busy pissing on each other’s trees. One needs a certain level of, uh, bravado when it’s your job to kill people.’
‘Trull Sengar fought as a soldier,’ Onrack said to the wizard. ‘The difference between you two is that he is unable to hide his grief at the frailty of life.’
‘Nothing frail about us,’ Quick Ben muttered. ‘Life stays stubborn until it has no choice but to give up, and even then it’s likely to spit one last time in the eye of whatever’s killed it. We’re cruel in victory and cruel in defeat, my friends. Now, if you two will be quiet for a moment, I can go in search of a way out of here.’
‘No, a damned gate. I’m beginning to suspect this lake doesn’t end.’
‘It must end,’ the Edur said.
‘The Abyss is not always twisted with wild storms. Sometimes it’s like this-placid, colourless, a tide rising so slowly that it’s impossible to notice, but rise it does, swallowing this tilted, dying realm.’
‘The Shadow Realm is dying, Quick Ben?’
The wizard licked his lips-a nervous gesture Trull had seen before from the tall, thin man-then shrugged. ‘I think so. With every border an open wound, it’s not that surprising. Now, quiet everyone. I need to concentrate.’
Trull watched as Quick Ben closed his eyes.
A moment later his body grew indistinct, grainy at its edges, then began wavering, into and out of solidity.
‘I regret nothing, Trull Sengar.’
‘It’s virtually the opposite for me-with the exception of talking you into freeing me when I was about to drown in the Nascent-which, I’ve just realized, doesn’t look much different from this place. Flooding worlds. Is this more pervasive than we realize?’
A clattering of bones as the T’lan Imass shrugged. ‘I would know something, Trull Sengar. When peace comes to a warrior…’
The Edur’s eyes narrowed on the battered undead. ‘How do you just cast off all the rest? The surge of pleasure at the height of battle? The rush of emotions, each one threatening to overwhelm you, drown you? That sizzling sense of being alive? Onrack, I thought your kind felt… nothing.’
‘With awakening memories,’ Onrack replied, ‘so too other… forces of the soul.’ The T’lan Imass lifted one withered hand. ‘This calm on all sides-it mocks me.’