Assail (Malazan Empire, #6)(211)
‘What is it, please?’ she begged.
Silverfox seemed to drag herself to stand before them, flanked by Tolb Bell’al and Pran Chole. She studied them each in turn and the anguish in her eyes terrified Shimmer. ‘The Crimson Guard,’ she murmured, nodding to herself. ‘If only we had met earlier. I would have recognized it immediately, K’azz.’
‘You are the Summoner,’ he said, his voice hardly more than a groan.
‘Yes. So the task must fall to me though I wish it otherwise.’
Something in what they were saying made Shimmer dizzy; the thing lurking behind their words threatened her so much she thought she would lose her reason. She raised a hand, pointing to Kilava. ‘I have seen you before …’
The woman nodded. ‘Yes. Once. The day of your Vow – Shimmer, is it? That day your Vow touched upon Tellann and so I came to witness.’
Touched upon Tellann … the words spun like a destroying whirlwind in Shimmer’s thoughts. Echoes of their Vow washed over her. Eternal opposition …
The woman addressed K’azz: ‘What do you think lent power to you Avowed? Sustained you all this time?’
K’azz nodded, his eyes downcast. ‘I knew. For some time, I have known.’
Silverfox gently raised a hand and pressed it to K’azz’s forehead. ‘Though it brings me terrible pain to do so, I welcome you, K’azz D’Avore, Commander of the Crimson Guard.’
Tolb Bell’al inclined his ravaged skull. ‘We of the Ifayle are also saddened, yet we welcome you gladly. Long has it been since we have welcomed a new clan among the T’lan Imass. We offer our greetings to the K’azz T’lan Imass. The Red Clan.’
‘Gods above and below,’ Shimmer heard Blues moan.
‘We thank you,’ K’azz answered, the words jagged with suppressed pain. Then he turned to her, took her hand – his fingers so cold. ‘I’m sorry, Shimmer … please …’
But she hardly heard him. The thing in her mind was close now. The truth she did not want. It all made sense now. Now she knew why she’d run from this knowledge. Avoided it at all costs. Why she’d refused to see it. She understood, and could see the truth of it. Her hand rose to press against her chest where, weeks ago, a blade from the Sharr attack had struck, and she knew. She finally accepted that for some time now – she’d been dead.
With that giving up to the fact, that yielding, came darkness and nothing more.
*
When Shimmer collapsed into her commander’s arms the man gently lowered her to the ground and the others, Blues and Cal-Brinn, knelt with him next to her. Kyle could only wonder on the shock of such an unveiling. The Crimson Guard Vow – a curse in truth, just like that of the T’lan. He shook his head at the horrifying injustice of it. Then jerked, startled, as the Jaghut elder raised her arms, calling: ‘Summoner! We have delayed here too long.’
Silverfox spun from the kneeling figures, sudden panicked awareness in her face. ‘T’lan guard us!’ she ordered.
The ranks of the Kerluhm came clattering forward across the rocks to form a broad defensive circle around the Crimson Guard and the Jaghut elder and her descendants.
Fisher, Jethiss and Kyle pushed forward into the circle. Moments later the Icebloods, the three of the Sayer, and the son of the Heels, joined them.
Beyond the nearest boulders and debris of this high shoulder, all round them, there rose ash-grey shapes from among the fallen rocks. Kyle had never seen them before, but he immediately knew them for what they were: the slate-hued, thin and elongated shapes of the Forkrul Assail. He also knew at that moment that it was unlikely that they would get off the mountain alive.
The alien figures remained immobile, as if carved of stone themselves. The Imass waited, obsidian and flint swords readied. Kyle drew the white blade and to his astonishment – and extreme discomfort – saw the attention of the Forkrul shift to him as their slit eyes all moved at once.
Jethiss moved to confront them but Fisher snapped up a hand to grasp his arm, pulling him back. ‘Not yet,’ he murmured, ‘if you must at all.’
The Andii eased backwards, acquiescing to the bard’s urgings – at least for now.
The Forkrul then raised arms to point up the slope to a higher ridge of stone. Kyle glanced up to see two there waiting. Stones crunched as the Jaghut elder passed through the circled Imass. She paused then, looking back to them. ‘One from each of us gathered here must come,’ she said. The words troubled Kyle in that he sensed something deeper behind them. Something profound and ritualized.
Further steps sounded over the stones as Silverfox stepped forth. With her came Kilava and Pran Chole. The Sayer youth, Orman, joined the Jaghut elder, the wicked-looking spear cradled in his arms. The matriarch gestured, inviting up Jethiss. He turned to Fisher, who nodded, and in turn reached out to pull on Kyle’s arm. Kyle resisted. ‘There are enough,’ he said.
‘No. The white blade must come. I understand this now. This is no accident, Kyle. This is why we are here.’ Fisher peered about, his eyes widening. ‘Great Abyss,’ he murmured, ‘Four. We are four again.’ He pressed his sleeve to his face, daubing away a sheen of sweat. ‘Gods guide us!’
Not understanding the bard’s words, but granting the man’s urgency, he relented, and followed up the slope.