'Well, it's east where it's getting brighter, so I guess, yeah, it must be.'
'Great. I bin waiting for this. I think.'
****
Cuttle found sergeants Thom Tissy, Cord and Gesler gathered near the base of the slope leading up to the west road. It seemed they weren't much interested in the rising sun. 'You're all looking serious,' the sapper said.
'We got a walk ahead of us,' Gesler said, 'that's all.'
'The Adjunct had no choice,' Cuttle said. 'That was a firestorm – there was no way she could have known there'd be survivors – digging under it all that way.'
Gesler glanced at the other two sergeants, then nodded. 'It's all right, Cuttle. We know. We're not contemplating murder or anything.'
Cuttle turned to face the camp. 'Some of the soldiers are thinking wrong on all of this.'
'Aye,' said Cord, 'but we'll put 'em straight on it before this day's out.'
'Good. Thing is,' he hesitated, turning back to the sergeants, 'I've been thinking on that. Who in Hood's name is going to believe us? More like we did our own deal with the Queen of Dreams. After all, we got one of Leoman's officers with us. And now, with the captain and Sinn going and getting themselves outlawed, well, it could be seen we're all traitors or something.'
'We made no deal with the Queen of Dreams,' Cord said.
'Are you sure about that?'
All three sergeants looked at him then.
Cuttle shrugged. 'Bottle, he's a strange one. Maybe he did make some deal, with somebody. Maybe the Queen of Dreams, maybe some other god.'
'He'd have told us, wouldn't he?' Gesler asked.
'Hard to say. He's a sneaky bastard. I'm getting nervous about that damned rat biting every one of us, like it knew what it was doing and we didn't.'
'Just a wild rat,' said Thom Tissy. 'Ain't nobody's pet, so why wouldn't it bite?'
Gesler said, 'Listen, Cuttle, sounds like you're just finding new things to worry about. What's the point of doing that? What we've got ahead of us right now is a long walk, and us with no armour, no weapons and virtually no clothing – the sun's gonna bake people crisp.'
'We need to find a village,' Cord said, 'and hope to Hood plague ain't found it first.'
'There you go, Cuttle,' Gesler said, grinning. 'Now you got another thing to worry about.'
****
Paran began to suspect that his horse knew what was coming: nostrils flaring, tossing its head as it shied and stamped, fighting the reins all the way down the trail. The freshwater sea was choppy, silty waves in the bay rolling up to batter at sun-bleached limestone crags. Dead desert bushes poked skeletal limbs out of the muddy shallows and insects swarmed everywhere.
'This is not the ancient sea,' Ganath said as she approached the shoreline.
'No,' Paran admitted. 'Half a year ago Raraku was a desert, and had been for thousands of years. Then, there was a… rebirth of sorts.'
'It will not last. Nothing lasts.'
He eyed the Jaghut woman for a moment. She stood looking out on the ochre waves, motionless for a dozen heartbeats, then she made her way down into the shallows. Paran dismounted and hobbled the horses, narrowly evading an attempted bite from the gelding he had been riding. He unpacked his camp kit and set about building a hearth.
Plenty of driftwood about, including entire uprooted trees, and it was not long before he had a cookfire lit.
Finished her bathing, Ganath joined him and stood nearby, water streaming down her oddly coloured, smooth skin. 'The spirits of the deep springs have awakened,' she said. 'It feels as if this place is young once again. Young, and raw. I do not understand.'
Paran nodded. 'Young, aye. And vulnerable.'
'Yes. Why are you here?'
'Ganath, it might be safer for you if you left.'
'When do you begin the ritual?'
'It's already begun.'
She glanced away. 'You are a strange god. Riding a miserable creature that dreams of killing you. Building a fire with which to cook food.
Tell me, in this new world, are all gods such as you?'
'I'm not a god,' Paran said. 'In place of the ancient Tiles of the Holds – and I'll grant you I'm not sure that's what they were called – in any case, there is now the Deck of Dragons, a fatid containing the High Houses. I am the Master of that Deck-'
'A Master, in the same manner as the Errant?'
'Who?'
