'And he will be found at the heart of the Pannion Domin, won't he?'
'Yes.'
'Commanding K'Chain Che'Malle undead. How can that be?'
Kruppe noted the hesitation in Pran Chole as the Bonecaster replied. 'We do not know, Summoner.'
'And when he is destroyed, Pran Chole, what then?'
The Bonecaster seemed taken aback by the question. 'Summoner, this is your Gathering. You are flesh and blood — our flesh and blood, reborn. When the last Jaghut is slain-'
'A moment, if you please!' Kruppe said, edging another step forward. Silverfox hissed in exasperation but the Daru continued. 'Pran Chole, do you recall worthy Kruppe?'
'I do.'
'Worthy, clever Kruppe, yes? You said you know of but one Jaghut. No doubt accurate enough. None the less, saying such is not quite the same as saying there is but one left, is it? Thus, you are not certain, are you?'
Olar Ethil replied. 'Mortal, other Jaghut remain. Isolated. Hidden — they have learned to hide very well indeed. We believe they exist, but we cannot find them.'
'Yet you seek an official end to the war, do you not?'
A susurration of motion rippled through the undead ranks.
Silverfox wheeled on him. 'How did you know, damn you?'
Kruppe shrugged. 'Sorrow unsurpassed and unsurpassing. They in truth seek to become dust. Had they eyes, Kruppe would see the truth no plainer writ. The T'lan Imass wish oblivion.'
'Which I would only grant if all the Jaghut on this world had ceased to exist,' Silverfox said. 'For that is the burden laid upon me. My intended purpose. The threat of tyranny removed, finally, once and for all time. Only then could I grant the T'lan Imass the oblivion they seek — so the Ritual demands of me, for that is a linkage that cannot be broken.'
'You must make the pronouncement, Summoner,' Okral Lorn said.
'Yes,' she replied, still glaring at Kruppe.
'Your words,' Pran Chole added, 'can shatter the Ritual's bindings.'
Her head snapped round. 'So easily? Yet-' She faced the Daru once more, and scowled. 'Kruppe, you force into the open an unpleasant truth-'
'Aye, Silverfox, but not the same truth as that which you seem to see. No, Kruppe has unveiled a deeper one, far more poignant.'
She crossed her arms. 'And that is?'
Kruppe studied the sea of undead figures, narrowed his gaze on the shadowed sockets of countless eyes. After a long moment, he sighed, and it was a sigh ragged with emotion. 'Ah, my dear, look again, please. It was a pathetic deceit, not worth condemnation. Understand, if you will, the very beginning. The First Gathering. There was but one enemy, then. One people, from whom tyrants emerged. But time passes, aye? And now, dominators and tyrants abound on all sides — yet are they Jaghut? They are not. They are human, for the most part, yes?
'The truth in all its layers? Very well. Silverfox, the T'lan Imass have won their war. Should a new tyrant emerge from among the few hidden Jaghut, he or she will not find the world so simple to conquer as it once was. There are gods to oppose the effort; nay, there are mere ascendants! Men such as Anomander Rake, women such as Korlat — have you forgotten the fate of the last Jaghut Tyrant?
'The time has passed, Silverfox. For the Jaghut, and thus, for the T'lan Imass.' Kruppe rested a hand on her shoulder and looked up into her eyes. 'Summoner,' he whispered, 'these indomitable warriors are … weary. Weary beyond all comprehension. They have existed for hundreds of thousands of years, for one sole cause. And that cause is now … a farce. Pointless. Irrelevant. They want it to end, Silverfox. They tried to arrange it with Kellanved and the First Throne, but the effort failed. Thus, they gave shape to you, to what you would become. For this one task.
'Redeem them. Please.'
Pran Chole spoke, 'Summoner, we shall destroy the Jaghut who hides within this Pannion Domin. And then, we would ask for an end. It is as Kruppe has said. We have no reason to exist, thus we exist without honour, and it is destroying us. The renegades Logros T'lan Imass hunts are but the first. We shall lose more of our kin, or so we fear.'
Kruppe saw that Silverfox was trembling, but her words were tightly controlled as she addressed the antlered shaman. 'You create me as the first flesh and blood Bonecaster in almost three hundred thousand years. The first, and, it seems, the last.'
'Do as we ask, Summoner, and the remainder of your life is yours.'
'What life? I am neither Rhivi nor Malazan. I am not even truly human. It is what all of you do not grasp!' She jabbed a finger at Kruppe and the two marines to complete an all-encompassing gesture. 'None of you! Not even Paran, who thinks — no, what he thinks I will deal with in my own time — it is not for any of you. T'lan Imass! I am your kin, damn you! Your first child in three hundred thousand years! Am I to be abandoned again?'
