A Malazan Book of the Fallen Collection 3

Tiste Edur, readying a spear moments
before that triumphant roar battered the warrior from his feet.
    The captain saw a gate open before Icarium, saw the
unleashing of magic, and then Varat Taun ducked, as if to
squeeze beneath more bodies, as the concussion that
erupted when the sorcery struck the Jhag shook the very
stone – the floor, the walls – and in an instant, a
momentary flash, he saw Icarium wheeling through the air,
towards him, then over, then past – and the furious wind
plunged into the Jhag's wake.
    Only to return with renewed force, and Varat felt the
sodden bodies around him jostle and press down, as Icarium
strode back over the dead, tilted forward, raising his sword
once more.
    The Ceda, dark-skinned, lithe, watched the Jhag's
approach, and then released another thunderous gout of
magic—
    —and Icarium flew back—
     
    The storm winds seemed to twist as if in berserker rage,
howling, tearing at the stone walls, ripping huge chunks
away. The bodies of the fallen were plucked into the air, the
flesh scouring away from the bones, the bones thinning
then splitting apart – weapons sailed past, withering into
nothing.
    And Trull Sengar, on his knees, watched as the stranger
hammered Lifestealer. Again and again, each trembling
detonation punching the Jhag back through the air,
spinning, flailing, striking some distant obstruction with
deep, rattling impacts.
    And then, each time, the terrible slayer regained his feet,
and marched forward once more.
    Only to be struck again.
    In the interval following the last one, the stranger turned
and saw Trull Sengar, and, in Malazan, he yelled, 'Who in
Hood's name is that man?'
    Trull blinked, shook his head.
    Wrong question. Who in Hood's name are you?
    Roaring, Lifestealer clambered closer, and this time, he
withstood the sorcerous blast, was pushed back but a few
steps, and as the wild blaze faded, he shook his head, and
lifted his sword. And came forward again.
    Another eruption, but the Jhag leaned against it—
    And Trull saw the mage jolt as if he had been punched.
Skin split on the back of the man's hands, blood spurting.
    Lifestealer stepped back, then surged forward yet again.
    And the mage seemed to half-vanish in a mist of blood,
flung back, stumbling, then, with a snarl, finding his
balance once more—
    In time for the Jhag's next assault.
    And Trull found the mage skidding to a halt directly in
front of him. No skin was visible that was not sheathed in
blood. Ruptures marred every limb, the face, the neck; the
eyes were deep red, streaming crimson tears. One trembling
hand lifted, and through torn lips, the mage seemed to
smile as he said, 'That's it for me. All yours, Edur, and tell
Shadowthrone and Cotillion, I'll be waiting for them on
the other side of Hood's Gate.'
    Trull looked up, then straightened, readying his
spear.
    Lifestealer's eyes blazed, and in that incandescence, Trull
imagined he saw recognition. Yes, me again.
    All at once the roaring wind stuttered, seemed to rip into
itself, sending fragments of detritus flying against the walls
–and there was heat, warm, sultry heat, flowing from
behind the Jhag – who raised his sword and tottered
closer—
     
    Clawing part-way free of the bodies, Varat Taun felt the
shattering of the storm. His breath caught, as a golden glow
seemed to rise, suffusing the air – and in that glow, warmth, life.
    Furtive movement to his left and he twisted his head
round – a figure, furred, as if wearing a skin-tight brown
pelt – no, naked, a woman – no, a female – not human at
all. Yet—
    In a half-crouch, moving lithe, sinuous, filled with
trepidation, approaching Icarium from behind, as the Jhag
began walking towards the lone Tiste Edur.
    Then, a swift dart forward – Icarium heard and began his
spin round – but she had reached out, a long-fingered hand
– no weapon, reaching out, and Varat Taun saw the fingertips
brush Icarium, just above the Jhag's right hip – the
slightest of touches—
    And the Slayer crumpled to the ground.
    Behind Varat, a wordless cry, and the Letherii flinched as
someone scrambled past him – Taralack Veed—
    The unhuman female had crouched beside the fallen
form of Icarium. Softly stroking the slayer's forehead, as the
amber glow began to fade, and with that fading, the female
herself grew indistinct, then dissolved into gold light,
which flickered, then vanished.
    Taralack Veed turned his head and met Varat's eyes.
'Help me!' he hissed.
    'Do what?' the