Hedge was waiting, seated on one of the tilted standing stones. ‘Hood take us all,’ he said, eyeing Fiddler as he approached. ‘They did it – her allies – they did what she needed them to do.’
‘Aye. And how many people died for that damned heart?’
Cocking his head, Hedge drew off his battered leather cap. ‘Little late to be regretting all that now, Fid.’
‘It was Kellanved – all of this. Him and Dancer. They used Tavore Paran from the very start. They used all of us, Hedge.’
‘That’s what gods do, aye. So you don’t like it? Fine, but listen to me. Sometimes, what they want – what they need us to do – sometimes it’s all right. I mean, it’s the right thing to do. Sometimes, it makes us better people.’
‘You really believe that?’
‘And when we’re better people, we make better gods.’
Fiddler looked away. ‘It’s hopeless, then. We can stuff a god with every virtue we got, it still won’t make us any better, will it? Because we’re not good with virtues, Hedge.’
‘Most of the time, aye, we’re not. But maybe then, at our worst, we might look up, we might see that god we made out of the best in us. Not vicious, not vengeful, not arrogant or spiteful. Not selfish, not greedy. Just clear-eyed, with no time for all our rubbish. The kind of god to give us a slap in the face for being such shits.’
Fiddler sank back down on to the ground. He leaned forward and closed his eyes, hands covering his face. ‘Ever the optimist, you.’
‘When you been dead, everything after that’s looking up.’
Fiddler snorted.
‘Listen, Fid. They did it. Now it’s our turn. Ours and Tavore’s. Who’d have thought we’d even get this far?’
‘Two names come to mind.’
‘Since when didn’t their empire demand the best in us, Fid? Since when?’
‘Wrong. It was as corrupt and self-serving as any other. Conquered half the fucking world.’
‘Not quite. World’s bigger than that.’
Fiddler sighed, freed one hand to wave it in Hedge’s direction. ‘Go get some rest, will you?’
The man rose. ‘Don’t want anyone interrupting all that feeling sorry for yourself, huh?’
‘For myself?’ Fiddler looked up, shook his head, and his gaze slipped past Hedge, down to where his soldiers were only now settling once again, desperate for sleep.
‘We’re not finished yet,’ Hedge said. ‘You plan on talking to ’em all? Before it all starts up?’
‘No.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because this is their time, from now to the end. They can do the talking, Hedge. Right now, for me, I’ll do the listening. Just like that god back there.’
‘What do you expect to be hearing?’
‘No idea.’
‘It’s a good knoll,’ Hedge said. ‘Defendable.’ And then he departed.
Closing his eyes again, Fiddler listened to the crunch of his boots, until they were gone. Chains. House of Chains. Us mortals know all about them. It’s where we live .
Calm could see the rise where she had left him, could see a darker shape low across its summit. The chains of her ancestors still bound him. Distant deaths tracked cold fingers across her skin – Reverence was no more. Diligence was gone. They had lost the heart of the Fallen God.
When a building is so battered and worn that no further repairs are possible, it needs tearing down. As simple as that, now. Their enemies might well stand filled with triumph at this very moment, there on the heights of the Great Spire, with a fresh clean wind coming in from the sea. They might believe that they had won, and that no longer would the Forkrul Assail make hard the fist of implacable justice – to strike at their venal selves, to crush their presumptuous arrogance. They might now imagine that they were free to take the future, to devour this world beast by beast, tree by tree, emptying the oceans and skies of all life.
And if the victory on this day just past tasted of blood, so be it – it was a familiar taste to them, and they were still not weaned from it and perhaps would never be.
But nature had its own weapons of righteousness. Weapons that struck even when none held them. No god, no guiding force or will beyond that of blind destruction was even necessary. All it needed was freedom.
The time for Lifestealer had come.
Face the sea, you fools. Face the rising of the sun, imagining your new day .
You do not see what comes from the darkness in the west. The slayer is awakened. Obliteration awaits you all .
