A Malazan Book of the Fallen Collection 2

found on my own skin – which I'd thought had come from the overturned bowl of paint. Fled from Onos . . . to me, in my shameful cave.
    And who did I hear in the passage beyond? In the midst of our lovemaking, did someone come upon us and see what I myself could not?
    'You need say no more, Onrack,' Trull said softly.
    True. And were I mortal flesh, you would see me weep, and thus say what you have just said. Thus, my grief is not lost to your eyes, Trull Sengar. And yet still you ask why I proclaimed my vow . . .
    'The trail of the renegades is ... fresh,' Onrack said after a moment.
    Trull half smiled. And you enjoy killing.'
    'Artistry finds new forms, Edur. It defies being silenced.' The T'lan Imass slowly turned to face him. 'Of course,
changes have come to us. I am no longer free to pursue this hunt... unless you wish the same.'
    Trull grimaced, scanned the lands to the southwest. 'Well, it's not as inviting a prospect as it once was, I'll grant you. But, Onrack, these renegades are agents in the betrayal of my people, and I mean to discover as much as I can of their role. Thus, we must find them.'
    'And speak with them.'
    'Speak with them first, aye, and then you can kill them.'
    'I no longer believe I am capable of that, Trull Sengar. I am too badly damaged. Even so, Monok Ochem and Ibra Gholan are pursuing us. They will suffice.'
    The Tiste Edur's head had turned at this. 'Just the two of them? You are certain?'
    'My powers are diminished, but yes, I believe so.'
    'How close?'
    'It does not matter. They withhold their desire for vengeance against me ... so that I might lead them to those they have hunted from the very beginning.'
    'They suspect you will join the renegades, don't they?'
    'Broken kin. Aye, they do.'
    'And will you?'
    Onrack studied the Tiste Edur for a moment. 'Only if you do, Trull Sengar.'
     
    They were at the very edge of cultivated land, and so it was relatively easy to avoid contact with any of the local residents. The lone road they crossed was empty of life in both directions for as far as they could see. Beyond the irrigated fields, the rugged natural landscape reasserted itself. Tufts of grasses, sprawls of water-smoothed gravel tracking down dry gulches and ravines, the occasional guldindha tree.
    The hills ahead were saw-toothed, the facing side clawed into near cliffs.
    Those hills were where the T'lan Imass had broken the
ice sheets, the first place of defiance. To protect the holy sites, the hidden caves, the flint quarries. Where, now, the weapons of the fallen were placed.
    Weapons these renegades would reclaim. There was no provenance to the sorcery investing those stone blades, at least with respect to Tellann. They would feed the ones who held them, provided they were kin to the makers – or indeed made by those very hands long ago. Imass, then, since the art among the mortal peoples was long lost. Also, finding those weapons would give the renegades their final freedom, severing the power of Tellann from their bodies.
    'You spoke of betraying your clan,' Trull Sengar said as they approached the hills. 'These seem to be old memories, Onrack.'
    'Perhaps we are destined to repeat our crimes, Trull Sengar. Memories have returned to me – all that I had thought lost. I do not know why.'
    'The severing of the Ritual?'
    'Possibly.'
    'What was your crime?'
    'I trapped a woman in time. Or so it seemed. I painted her likeness in a sacred cave. It is now my belief that, in so doing, I was responsible for the terrible murders that followed, for her leaving the clan. She could not join in the Ritual that made us immortal, for by my hand she had already become so. Did she know this? Was this the reason for her defying Logros and the First Sword? There are no answers to that. What madness stole her mind, so that she would kill her closest kin, so that, indeed, she would seek to kill the First Sword himself, her own brother?'
    'A woman not your mate, then.'
    'No. She was a bonecaster. A Soletaken.'
    'Yet you loved her.'
    A lopsided shrug. 'Obsession is its own poison, Trull Sengar.'
    A narrow goat trail led up into the range, steep and winding in its ascent. They began climbing.
    'I would object,' the Tiste Edur said, 'to this notion of being doomed to repeat our mistakes, Onrack. Are no lessons learned? Does not experience lead to wisdom?'
    'Trull Sengar. I have just betrayed Monok Ochem and Ibra Gholan. I have betrayed the T'lan Imass, for I chose not to accept my fate. Thus, the