A Malazan Book of the Fallen Collection 2

suspect you know more than I.'
    The Tiste Edur glanced up with a wry expression. 'That
seems unlikely. What do you know of the Hounds of Shadow?'
    'Very little. The Logros crossed paths with them only once, long ago, in the time of the First Empire. Seven in number. Serving an unknown master, yet bent on destruction.'
    Trull smiled oddly, then asked, 'The human First Empire, or yours?'
    'I know little of the human empire of that name. We were drawn into its heart but once, Trull Sengar, in answer to the chaos of the Soletaken and D'ivers. The Hounds made no appearance during that slaughter.' Onrack looked back at the massive stone Hound before them. 'It is believed,' he said slowly, 'by the bonecasters, that to create an icon of a spirit or a god is to capture its essence within that icon. Even the laying of stones prescribes confinement. Just as a hut can measure out the limits of power for a mortal, so too are spirits and gods sealed into a chosen place of earth or stone or wood ... or an object. In this way power is chained, and so becomes manageable. Tell me, do the Tiste Edur concur with that notion?'
    Trull Sengar climbed to his feet. 'Do you think we raised these giant statues, Onrack? Do your bonecasters also believe that power begins as a thing devoid of shape, and thus beyond control? And that to carve out an icon – or make a circle of stones – actually forces order upon that power?'
    Onrack cocked his head, was silent for a time. 'Then it must be that we make our own gods and spirits. That belief demands shape, and shaping brings life into being. Yet were not the Tiste Edur fashioned by Mother Dark? Did not your goddess create you?'
    Trull's smile broadened. 'I was referring to these statues, Onrack. To answer you – I do not know if the hands that fashioned these were Tiste Edur. As for Mother Dark, it may be that in creating us, she but simply separated what was not separate before.'
    'Are you then the shadows of Tiste Andii? Torn free by the mercy of your goddess mother?'
    'But Onrack, we are all torn free.'
    'Two of the Hounds are here, Trull Sengar. Their souls are trapped in the stone. And one more thing of note – these likenesses cast no shadows.'
    'Nor do the Hounds themselves.'
    'If they are but reflections, then there must be Hounds of Darkness, from which they were torn,' Onrack persisted. 'Yet there is no knowledge of such...' The T'lan Imass suddenly fell silent.
    Trull laughed. 'It seems you know more of the human First Empire than you first indicated. What was that tyrant emperor's name? No matter. We should journey onward, to the gate—'
    'Dessimbelackis,' Onrack whispered. 'The founder of the human First Empire. Long vanished by the time of the unleashing of the Beast Ritual. It was believed he had ... veered.'
    'D'ivers?'
    'Aye.'
    'And beasts numbered?'
    'Seven.'
    Trull stared up at the statues, then gestured. 'We didn't build these. No, I am not certain, but in my heart I feel ... no empathy. They are ominous and brutal to my eyes, T'lan Imass. The Hounds of Shadow are not worthy of worship. They are indeed untethered, wild and deadly. To truly command them, one must sit in the Throne of Shadow – as master of the realm. But more than that. One must first draw together the disparate fragments. Making Kurald Emurlahn whole once more.'
    'And this is what your kin seek,' Onrack rumbled. 'The possibility troubles me.'
    The Tiste Edur studied the T'lan Imass, then shrugged. 'I did not share your distress at the prospect – not at first. And indeed, had it remained ... pure, perhaps I would still be
standing alongside my brothers. But another power acts behind the veil in all this – I know not who or what, but I would tear aside that veil.'
    'Why?'
    Trull seemed startled by the question, then he shivered. 'Because what it has made of my people is an abomination, Onrack.'
    The T'lan Imass set out towards the gap between the two nearest statues.
    After a moment, Trull Sengar followed. 'I imagine you know little of what it is like to see your kin fall into dissolution, to see the spirit of an entire people grow corrupt, to struggle endlessly to open their eyes – as yours have been opened by whatever clarity chance has gifted you.'
    'True,' Onrack replied, his steps thumping the sodden ground.
    'Nor is it mere naïveté,' the Tiste Edur went on, limping in Onrack's wake. 'Our denial is wilful, our studied indifference conveniently self-serving to our basest desires. We are a