A Malazan Book of the Fallen Collection 2

three nights and almost four days. That we are impressed would be a tragic understatement. We have never before seen the like. See our heaving flanks? You have exhausted us. And look at you — you breathe deep and there is red around your eyes, yet you stand ready, with not a waver in your legs, or from the strange sword in your hands. Will you now do us harm, warrior?'
    Karsa shook his head. The language was Malazan. 'You are like a Soletaken, then. But many, not one. This would be... D'ivers? I have killed Soletaken – this fur on my shoulders is proof enough of that, if you doubt me. Attack me if you will, and when I have killed all of you, I will have a cloak even the gods will envy.'
    'We are no longer interested in killing you, warrior. Indeed, we accost you now to deliver a warning.'
    'What kind of warning?'
    'You are on someone's trail.'
    Karsa shrugged. 'Two men, both heavy, though one is taller. They walk side by side.'
    'Side by side, yes. And what does that tell you?'
    'Neither leads, neither follows.'
    'Danger rides your shoulders, Toblakai. About you is an air of threat – another reason why we will not cross you. Powers vie for your soul. Too many. Too deadly. But heed our warning: should you cross one of those travellers . . . the world will come to regret it. The world, warrior.'
    Karsa shrugged a second time. 'I am not interested in fighting anyone at the moment, D'ivers. Although, if I am in turn crossed, then I am not the one to answer for whatever regret the world then experiences. Now, I am done with words. Move from my path, or I will kill you all.'
    The wolves hesitated. 'Tell them that Ryllandaras sought to dissuade you. Before you make your last living act one that sees this world destroyed.'
    He watched them wheel and make their way down the slope.
    Bairoth Gild's laugh was a faint thunder in his mind. Karsa nodded. 'None would accept the blame for what has not yet occurred,' he rumbled. 'That, by itself, constitutes a curiously potent warning.'
    'You do indeed grow into yourself, Karsa Orlong. What will you do?'
    Karsa bared his teeth as he reslung his sword over a fur-clad shoulder. 'Do, Bairoth Gild? Why, I would meet these dire travellers, of course.'
    This time, Bairoth Gild did not laugh.
     
    Strains of meltwater flowed over the brittle rock beneath Karsa's moccasins. Ahead, the descent continued into a crowded maze of sandstone mesas, their level tops capped with ice and snow. Despite the bright, mid-afternoon sun in the cloudless sky, the narrow, twisting channels between the mesas remained in deep shadow.
    But the snow underfoot had vanished, and already he could feel a new warmth in the air. There seemed but one way down, and it was as much a stream as a trail. Given the lack of signs, the Teblor could only assume that the two strangers ahead of him had taken the same route.
    He moved slower now, his legs heavy with fatigue. The truth of his exhaustion had not been something he would reveal to the D'ivers wolves, but that threat was behind him now. He was close to collapse – hardly ideal if he was about to cross blades with a world-destroying demon.
    Still his legs carried him forward, as if of their own accord. As if fated.
    'And fate, Karsa Orlong, carries its own momentum.'
    'Returned at last to hound me once more, Bairoth Gild? At the very least, you should speak words of advice. This Ryllandaras, this D'ivers – portentous words, yes?'
    'Absurdly so, Warleader. There are no powers in this world – or any other – that pose such absolute threat. Spoken through the frenzied currents of fear. Likely personal in nature – whoever walks ahead has had dealings with the one named Ryllandaras, and it was the D'ivers who suffered with the meeting.'
    'You are probably right, Bairoth Gild. Delum Thord, you have been silent a long while. What are your thoughts?'
    'I am troubled, Warleader. The D'ivers was a powerful demon, after all. To take so many shapes, yet remain one. To speak in your mind as would a god . . .'
    Karsa grimaced. 'A god ... or a pair of ghosts. Not a demon, Delum Thord. We Teblor are too careless with that word. Forkrul Assail. Soletaken. D'ivers. None are demons in truth, for none were summoned to this world, none belong to any other realm but this one. They are in truth no different from us Teblor, or the lowlanders. No different from rhizan and capemoths, from horses and dogs. They are all of this world, Delum Thord.'
    As you say, Warleader. But we Teblor