A Malazan Book of the Fallen Collection 3

most of my
tears were inspired by self-pity. And so, we are transformed.
Leave now, Mappo Runt. Do what you must.'
     
    He found himself lying on the ground, bright sun overhead.
Two beasts were fighting nearby – no, he saw as he turned
his head, two people. Slathered in dusty spit, dark streaks of
gritty sweat, tugging handfuls of hair, kicking and gouging.
    'Gods below,' Mappo breathed. 'Dal Honese.'
    They ceased scrapping, looked over.
    'Don't mind us,' Iskaral Pust said with a blood-smeared
smile, 'we're married.'
     
    There was no outrunning it. Scaled and bear-like, the beast
massed as much as the Trygalle carriage, and its long, loping
run covered more ground than the terrified horses could
manage, exhausted as they now were. The red and black,
ridged scales covering the animal were each the size of
bucklers, and mostly impervious to missile fire, as had been
proved by the countless quarrels that had skidded from its
hide as it drew ever closer. It possessed a single, overlarge eye,
faceted like an insect's and surrounded by a projecting ridge
of protective bone. Its massive jaws held double rows of sabre
teeth, each one as long as a man's forearm. Old battle-scars
had marred the symmetry of the beast's wide, flat head.
    The distance between the pursuer and the pursued had
closed to less than two hundred paces. Paran abandoned his
over-the-shoulder study of the beast and urged his horse
ahead. They were pounding along a rocky shoreline. Twice
they had clattered over the bones of some large creature,
whale-like although many of the bones had been split and
crushed. Up ahead and slightly inland, the land rose into
something like a hill – as much as could be found in this
realm. Paran waved towards it. 'That way!' he shouted to
the driver.
    'What?' the man shrieked. 'Are you mad?'
    'One last push! Then halt and leave the rest to me!'
    The old man shook his head, yet steered the horses up
onto the slope, then drove them hard as, hoofs churning in
the mud, they strained to pull the huge carriage uphill.
    Paran slowed his horse once more, caught a glimpse of
shareholders gathered round the back of the carriage, all
staring at him as he reined in, directly in the beast's path.
    One hundred paces.
    Paran fought to control his panicking horse, even as
he drew a wooden card from his saddlebag. On which he
scored a half-dozen lines with his thumbnail. A moment to
glance up – fifty paces, head lowering, jaws opening wide. Oh, a little close —
    Two more deeper scores into the wood, then he flung the
card out, into the path of the charging creature.
    Four soft words under his breath—
    The card did not fall, but hung, motionless.
    The scaled bear reached it, voicing a bellowing roar –
and vanished.
    Paran's horse reared, throwing him backward, his boots
leaving the stirrups as he slid onto its rump, then off, landing
hard to skid in the mud. He picked himself up, rubbing
at his behind.
    Shareholders rushed down to gather round him.
    'How'd you do that?'
    'Where'd it go?'
    'Hey, if you coulda done that any time what was we
runnin' for?'
    Paran shrugged. 'Where – who knows? And as for the
"how", well, I am Master of the Deck of Dragons. Might as
well make the grand title meaningful.'
    Gloved hands slapped his shoulders – harder than
necessary, but he noted their relieved expressions, the
terror draining from their eyes.
    Hedge arrived. 'Nice one, Captain. I didn't think any of
you'd make it. From what I saw, though, you left things
nearly too late – too close. Saw your mouth moving – some
kind of spell or something? Didn't know you were a
mage—'
    'I'm not. I was saying "I hope this works'!'
    Once again, everyone stared at him.
    Paran walked over to his horse.
    Hedge said, 'Anyway, from that hilltop you can see our
destination. The High Mage thought you should know.'
     
    From the top of the hill, five huge black statues were visible
in the distance, the intervening ground broken by small
lakes and marsh grasses. Paran studied the rearing edifices
for a time. Bestial hounds, seated on their haunches,
perfectly rendered yet enormous in scale, carved entirely of
black stone.
    'About what you had expected?' Hedge asked, clambering
back aboard the carriage.
    'Wasn't sure,' Paran replied. 'Five ... or seven. Well,
now I know. The two shadow hounds from Dragnipur
found their ... counterparts, and so were reunited. Then, it
seems, someone freed them.'
    'Something paid us a visit,' Hedge said, 'the night us
ghosts