A Malazan Book of the Fallen Collection 2

beyond. The air grew cooler.
    The border itself was marked by a series of cairns lining the ridge. Long-abandoned enclosures were visible here and there, the low unmortared stone walls hinting of more affluent times in the past. Flagstone byways crisscrossed the land ahead, overgrown with grasses. The hills gave way to a broad, shallow valley, treed at its base where a stream twisted its way northward. Three squat farmhouses were visible on the valley floor, and a cluster of structures positioned at the stream marked a hamlet at what had to be a ford. No livestock was in sight, nor were the chimneys streaming smoke, lending an eerie quality to the pastoral scene.
    None the less, the transition from barren plain to green pastures and signs of human acitivity was something of a shock to Toc the Younger. He realized, with a dull and faint surge of unease, that he'd grown used to the solitude of the plain the Elin called Lamatath. Absence of people – those outside the group ... strangers – had diminished what he now understood to be a constant tension in his life. Perhaps in all our lives. Unfamiliar faces, gauging regard, every sense heightened in an effort to read the unknown. The natural efforts of society. Do we all possess a wish to remain unseen, un-noticed? Is the witnessing of our actions by others our greatest restraint?
    'You are looking thoughtful, darling,' Lady Envy murmured at his side.
    He shrugged. 'We're not ... unobtrusive, are we? This group of ours. Masked warriors and giant wolf and dog – and a T'lan Imass—'
    Tool stopped and faced them. 'I shall make myself unseen, now.'
    'When you fall to dust the way you do,' Toc asked, 'are you entering your Tellann warren?'
    'No. I simply return to what I was meant to be, had not the Ritual taken place. It would be unwise to employ Tellann within this Domin, Toc the Younger. I shall, however, remain close, and vigilant.'
    Toc grunted. 'I was used to having you around. In the flesh, I mean.' He scowled. 'As it were.'
    The T'lan Imass shrugged, then vanished in a sluice of dust.
    'Other solutions present themselves,' Lady Envy said, 'with respect to our canine companions. Observe.' She walked towards Baaljagg. 'You, pup, are far too ... alarming in appearance ... in your present form. Shall we make you smaller?'
    The ay had not moved, and watched as she reached out a slim hand and rested a finger on its brow.
    Between blinks, Baaljagg shifted from tall and gaunt to a size to match the dog, Garath. Smiling, Lady Envy glanced southward. 'Those yellow wolves are still following, so very curious, but it seems unlikely they will approach now that we are among humans. Alas, reducing the Seguleh to the size of children would achieve little in the way of anonymity, wouldn't you concur, Toc the Younger?'
    The Malazan conjured in his mind an image of two masked, death-dealing 'children', and a moment later his imagination was in full retreat. 'Uh,' he managed, 'No. I mean, yes. Yes, I concur.'
    'The hamlet yonder,' she continued, 'will prove a modest test as to how the locals react to the Seguleh. If further illusory adjustments to our party prove necessary, we can address them later. Have I covered all considerations, my dear?'
    'Yes,' he reluctantly grumbled, 'I suppose.'
    'The hamlet might have an inn of some sort.'
    'I wouldn't count on it, Lady. These trader tracks haven't seen use in years.'
    'How uncivilized! Shall we make our way down there in any case?'
     
    The first drops of rain were spattering the stony trail when they reached the first of the hamlet's half-dozen squalid and ramshackle buildings. It had once been a travellers' inn, complete with stables and a low-walled compound for merchant carts, but was now unoccupied and partially dismantled, the wood and dressed stone of the kitchen wall scavenged, leaving the interior exposed to the elements. High grasses and herbs rose amidst the brick ovens.
    Three small buildings lay just beyond the abandoned inn. Smithy and tack stall, and a tithe-collector's office and residence. All lifeless. The only structure showing evidence of upkeep was on the other side of the shallow ford. High-walled – the stones revealing disparate provenance – and gated with wooden doors beneath an arch, all that was visible of the structure within was a pyramidal peak scaled in polished copper.
    'I'd guess that to be a temple,' Toc muttered, standing in the centre of the hamlet's lone street, his eye narrowed on the building