A Malazan Book of the Fallen Collection 2

is Shadowthrone, and Dancer is Cotillion, the Rope, Patron of Assassins.'
    The captain stared at her. 'What?'
    Silverfox grinned. 'It's obvious when you consider it, isn't it? Who among the ascendants went after Laseen . . . with the aim of destroying her? Shadowthrone and Cotillion. Why would any ascendant care one way or another about a mortal woman? Unless they thirsted for vengeance.'
    Paran's mind raced back, to a road on the coast of Itko Kan, to a dreadful slaughter, wounds made by huge, bestial jaws – Hounds. Hounds of Shadow – Shadowthrone's pups... From that day, the captain had begun a new path. On the trail of the young woman Cotillion had possessed. From that day, his life had begun its fated unravelling. 'Wait! Kellanved and Dancer went into Deadhouse – why didn't they take that aspect – the aspect of the House of Death?'
    'I've thought about that myself, and have arrived at one possibility. The realm of Death was already occupied, Paran. The King of High House Death is Hood. I believe now that each Azath is home to every gate, a way into every warren. Gain entry to the House, and you may ... choose. Kellanved and Dancer found an empty House, an empty throne, and upon taking their places as Shadow's rulers, the House of Shadow appeared, and became part of the Deck of Dragons. Do you see?'
    Paran slowly nodded, struggling to take it all in. Tremors of pain twisted his stomach – he pushed them away. But what has this to do with me?
    'The House of Shadow was once a Hold,' Silverfox went on. 'You can tell – it doesn't share the hierarchical structure of the other Houses. It is bestial, a wilder place, and apart from the Hounds it knew no ruler for a long, long time.'
    'What of the Deck's Unaligned?'
    She shrugged. 'Failed aspects? The imposition of chance, of random forces? The Azath and the Deck are both impositions of order, but even order needs freedom, lest it solidify and become fragile.'
    'And where do you think I fit in? I'm nothing, Silverfox. A stumble-footed mortal.' Gods, leave me out of all this – all that you seem to be leading up to. Please.
    'I have thought long and hard on this, Paran. Anomander Rake is Knight of the House of Dark,' she said, 'yet where is the House itself? Before all else there was Dark, the Mother who birthed all. So it must be an ancient place, a Hold, or perhaps something that came before Holds themselves. A focus for the gate into Kurald Galain ... undiscovered, hidden, the First Wound, with a soul trapped in its maw, thus sealing it.'
    'A soul,' Paran murmured, a chill clambering up his spine, 'or a legion of souls ...'
    The breath hissed from Silverfox.
    'Before Houses there were Holds,' Paran continued with remorseless logic. 'Both fixed, both stationary. Settled. Before settlement ... there was wandering. House from Hold, Hold from ... a gate in motion, ceaseless motion ...' He squeezed shut his eyes. 'A wagon, burdened beneath the countless souls sealing the gate into Dark. . .' And I sent two Hounds through that wound, I saw the seal punctured . . . by the Abyss ...
    'Paran, something has happened – to the Deck of Dragons. A new card has arrived. Unaligned, yet, I think, dominant. The Deck has never possessed a ... master.' She faced him. 'I now believe it has one. You.'
    His eyes snapped open; he stared at her in disbelief, then scorn. 'Nonsense, Tatter— Silverfox. Not me. You are wrong. You must be—'
    'I am not. My hand was guided in fashioning the card that is you—'
    'What card?'
    She did not answer, continued as if she had not heard him. 'Was it the Azath that guided me? Or some other unknown force? I do not know. Jen'isand Rul, the Wanderer within the Sword.' She met his eyes. 'You are a new Unaligned, Ganoes Paran. Birthed by accident or by some purpose the need of which only the Azath know. You must find the answer for your own creation, you must find the purpose behind what you have become.'
    His brows rose mockingly. 'You set for me a quest? Really, Silverfox. Aimless, purposeless men do not undertake quests. That's for wall-eyed heroes in epic poems. I don't believe in goals – not any more. They're naught but self-delusions. You set for me this task and you shall be gravely disappointed. As shall the Azath.'
    'An unseen war has begun, Paran. The warrens themselves are under assault – I can feel the pressure within the Deck of Dragons, though I have yet to rest a hand upon one. An army is being ... assembled, perhaps, and you –