A Malazan Book of the Fallen Collection 3

Letherii demanded.
    'The gate behind you – it fades! We need to drag Icarium
back through! We need to get him out of here!'
    'Are you insane?'
    The Gral's face twisted. 'Don't you understand? Icarium
– he is for your Emperor!'
    A sudden chill, sweeping away the last vestiges of that
healing warmth, and then, in its wake, a flood of emotion
– scalding his mind. Varat Taun pushed himself upright,
clambered to join Taralack Veed.
    For Rhulad. Gods. Yes, I see now. Yes. For Rhulad – even
Rhulad – even that sword – yes, I see, I see!
    The entranceway to the throne room was unoccupied
once more, as the Tiste Edur had pulled the Ceda into the
sanctity of that chamber – now was their chance – he and
Taralack reached the prostrate form of Icarium.
    The Gral collected the sword and sheathed it beneath
his belt, then grasped one arm. 'Take the other,' he commanded
in a hiss. 'Hurry! Before they realize – before that
damned gate slams shut!'
    And Varat grasped the other arm, and they began
dragging Icarium back.
    The slickness of what lay beneath the Jhag made it easier
than expected.
     
    Kneeling, Trull Sengar wiped blood from the mage's face,
cautiously, gentle round the closed eyes. From beyond
the archway, a profound silence. Within this chamber, the
sounds of weeping, muted, hopeless.
    'Will he live?'
    The Tiste Edur started, then looked up. 'Cotillion. You
said you'd send help. Is this him?'
    The god nodded.
    'He wasn't enough.'
    'I know that.'
    'So who would you have sent next?'
    'Myself, Trull Sengar.'
    Ah. He looked back down at the unconscious mage. 'The
Eres'al ... she did what no-one else could do.'
    'So it would seem.'
    'Unanticipated, her arrival, I presume.'
    'Most unexpected, Trull. It is unfortunate, nonetheless,
that her power of healing did not reach through, into this
chamber.'
    The Tiste Edur frowned, then looked back up at the god.
'What do you mean?'
    Cotillion could not meet his eyes. 'Onrack. Even now he
rises. Mended, more or less. I think she feels for him ...'
    'And who feels for us?' Trull demanded. He turned his
head aside and spat out blood.
    There was no answer from the god.
    The Tiste Edur slumped down into a ragged sitting
position. 'I'm sorry, Cotillion. I don't know if you deserved
that. Probably not.'
    'It has been an eventful night,' the god said. Then
sighed. 'Such is convergence. I asked you earlier, will Quick
Ben live?'
    Quick Ben. Trull nodded. 'I think so. The blood's stopped
flowing.'
    'I have called Shadowthrone. There will be healing.'
    Trull Sengar glanced over to where Panek sat beside his
mother – one of his mothers – 'Shadowthrone had best hurry,
before those children become orphans once again.'
    A scuffling sound from the portal, and Onrack shuffled
into view.
    'Trull Sengar.'
    He nodded, managed a broken smile. 'Onrack. It seems
you and I are cursed to continue our pathetic existence for
a while longer.'
    'I am pleased.'
    No-one spoke for a moment, and then the T'lan Imass
said, 'Lifestealer is gone. He was taken away, back through
the gate.'
    Cotillion hissed in frustration. 'The damned Nameless
Ones! They never learn, do they?'
    Trull was staring at Onrack. 'Taken? He lives? Why –
how? Taken?'
    But it was the god who answered. 'Icarium – Lifestealer
– is their finest weapon, Trull Sengar. The Nameless Ones
intend to fling him against your brother, the Emperor of
Lether.'
    As comprehension reached through the numbness of
exhaustion, Trull slowly closed his eyes. Oh no, please ... 'I
see. What will happen then, Cotillion?'
    'I don't know. No-one does. Not even the Nameless
Ones, although in their arrogance they would never admit
to it.'
    A squeal from Panek drew their attention – and there
was Shadowthrone, crouching down over Minala, settling
a hand on her forehead.
    Trull spat again – the insides of his mouth were lacerated
–then grunted and squinted up at Cotillion. 'I will not
fight here again,' he said. 'Nor Onrack, nor these children
–Cotillion, please—'
    The god turned away. 'Of course not, Trull Sengar.'
    Trull watched Cotillion walk through the archway, and
the Tiste Edur's gaze fell once more on the body of Ahlrada
Ahn. As Shadowthrone approached Quick Ben, Trull
climbed to his feet and made his way to where his friend
was lying. Ahlrada Ahn. I do not understand you – I have
never understood you – but I thank you nonetheless. I thank
you ...
    He stepped to the entranceway, looked out, and saw
Cotillion, the Patron of