A Malazan Book of the Fallen Collection 2

around. 'The further out we proceed, the stronger it becomes.'
    'I think that's what happened to Silgar's boat – they managed to ground it just this side of the mouth, stoving it in, in the process. We should try to avoid a similar fate, Karsa, if we can, that is.'
    'Then keep an eye out for submerged logs,' the Teblor said as he angled the dory closer to shore. 'Also, are the lowlanders armed?'
    'Not that I can see,' Torvald replied after a moment. 'They look to be in, uh, in pretty bad condition. They're perched on a small island of logs. Silgar, and Damisk, and one other... Borrug, I think. Gods, Karsa, they're starved.'
    'Take a harpoon,' the Teblor growled. 'That hunger could well drive them to desperation.'
    'A touch shoreward, Karsa, we're almost there.'
    There was a soft crunch from the hull, then a grinding, stuttering motion as the current sought to drag them along the verge. Torvald clambered out, ropes in one hand and harpoon in the other. Beyond him, Karsa saw as he turned about, huddled the three Nathii lowlanders, making no move to help and, if anything, drawing back as far as they could manage on the tangled island. The breach's roar was a still-distant thundering, though closer at hand were ominous cracks, tearing and shifting noises – the logjam was coming loose.
    Torvald made fast the dory with a skein of lines tied to various branches and roots. Karsa stepped ashore, drawing his bloodsword, his eyes levelling on Silgar.
    The slavemaster attempted to retreat further.
    Near the three emaciated lowlanders lay the remains of a fourth, his bones picked clean.
    'Teblor!' Silgar implored. 'You must listen to me!'
    Karsa slowly advanced.
    'I can save us!'
    Torvald tugged at Karsa's arm. 'Wait, friend, let's hear the bastard.'
    'He will say anything,' Karsa growled.
    'Even so—'
    Damisk Greydog spoke. 'Karsa Orlong, listen! This island is being torn apart – we all need your boat. Silgar's a mage – he can open a portal. But not if he's drowning. Understand? He can take us from this realm!'
    'Karsa,' Torvald said, weaving as the logs shifted under him, his grip on the Teblor's arm tightening.
    Karsa looked down at the Daru beside him. 'You trust Silgar?'
    'Of course not. But we've no choice – we'd be unlikely to survive plunging through that breach in the dory. We don't even know this wall's height – the drop on the other side could be endless. Karsa, we're armed and they're not – besides, they're too weak to cause us trouble, you can see that, can't you?'
    Silgar screamed as a large section of the logjam sank away immediately behind him.
    Scowling, Karsa sheathed his sword. 'Begin untying the boat, Torvald.' He waved at the lowlanders. 'Come, then. But know this, Slavemaster, any sign of treachery from you and your friends will be picking your bones next.'
    Damisk, Silgar and Borrug scrambled forward.
    The entire section of flotsam was pulling away, breaking up along its edges as the current swept it onward. Clearly, the breach was expanding, widening to the pressure of an entire sea.
    Silgar climbed in and crouched down beside the dory's prow. 'I shall open a portal,' he announced, his voice a rasp. 'I can only do so but once—'
    'Then why didn't you leave a long time ago?' Torvald demanded, as he slipped the last line loose and clambered back aboard.
    'There was no path before – out on the sea. But now, here – someone has opened a gate. Close. The fabric is... weakened. I've not the skill to do such a thing myself. But I can follow.'
    The dory scraped free of the crumbling island, swung wildly into the sweeping current. Karsa pushed and pulled with the oars to angle their bow into the torrential flow.
    'Follow?' Torvald repeated. 'Where?'
    To that Silgar simply shook his head.
    Karsa abandoned the oars and made his way to the stern, taking the tiller in both hands.
    They rode the tumbling, churning sea of wreckage towards the breach. Where the wall had given way there was an ochre cloud of mist as vast and high as a thunderhead. Beyond it, there seemed to be nothing at all.
    Silgar was making gestures with both hands, snapping them out as would a blind man seeking a door latch. Then he jabbed a finger to the right. 'There!' he shrieked, swinging a wild look on Karsa. 'There! Angle us there!'
    The place Silgar pointed towards looked no different
from anywhere else. Immediately beyond it, the water simply vanished – a wavering line that was the breach itself. Shrugging, Karsa pushed