He began rolling up the map. 'I want this one-'

'Sorry, no. It is worth a fortune-'

'I will return it.'

'No, Karsa Orlong.' She straightened. 'If you are prepared to wait, I will copy it – on hide, which is more resilient-'

'How long will that take?'

'I don't know. A few days…'

'Very well, but I am getting restless, witch.' He handed her the rolled-up map and walked into the other chamber. 'And hungry.'

She stooped once more to gather in the other maps. The candles she left alone. Each one was aspected to a local, minor god, and the flames had, one and all, drawn the attention of the host of spirits.

This hallway was crowded with presences, making the air taut, bridling, since many of them counted others as enemies. Yet, she suspected, it had been more than just the flickering flames that had earned the regard of the spirits. Something about Toblakai himself…

There were mysteries, she believed, swirling in Karsa Orlong's history. And now, the spirits drawn close, close and… frightened…

'Ah,' she whispered, 'I see no choice in the matter. None at all…'

She drew out a belt-knife, spat on the blade, then began waving the iron through the flame of each candle.

The spirits howled in her mind, outraged at this unexpected, brutal imprisonment. She nodded. 'Yes, we mortals are cruel…'

'Three leagues,' Quick Ben said under his breath.

Kalam scratched at the stubble on his chin. Some old wounds – that enkar'al at the edge of the Whirlwind's wall had torn him up pretty bad – were aching after the long forced march back towards the Fourteenth Army. After what they had seen in the warren, no-one was in the mood to complain, however. Even Stormy had ceased his endless griping. The squad was hunkered down behind the assassin and the High Mage, motionless and virtually invisible in the darkness.

'So,' Kalam mused, 'do we wait for them here, or do we keep walking?'

'We wait,' Quick Ben replied. 'I need the rest. In any case, we all more or less guessed right, and the trail isn't hard to follow.

Leoman's reached Y'Ghatan and that's where he'll make his stand.'

'And us with no siege equipment to speak of.'

The wizard nodded. 'This could be a long one.'

'Well, we're used to that, aren't we?'

'I keep forgetting, you weren't at Coral.'

Kalam settled down with his back against the ridge's slope and pulled free a flask. He drank then handed it to the High Mage. 'As bad as the last day at Pale?'

Quick Ben sipped, then made a face. 'This is water.'

'Of course it is.'

'Pale… we weren't fighting anyone. Just collapsing earth and raining rocks.'

'So, the Bridgeburners went down fighting.'

'Most of Onearm's Host went down fighting,' Quick Ben said. 'Even Whiskeyjack,' he added. 'His leg gave out under him. Mallet won't forgive himself for that, and I can't say I'm surprised.' He shrugged in the gloom. 'It was messy. A lot went wrong, as usual. But Kallor turning on us… that we should have foreseen.'

'I've got a space on my blade for a notch in his name,' Kalam said, retrieving the flask.

'You're not the only one, but he's not an easy man to kill.'

Sergeant Gesler edged into view. 'Saw you two passing something.'

'Just water,' Kalam said.

'The last thing I wanted to hear. Well, don't mind me.'

'We were discussing the siege to come,' the assassin said. 'Could be a long one.'

'Even so,' Gesler said with a grunt, 'Tavore's a patient woman. We know that much about her, anyway.'

'Nothing else?' Quick Ben asked.

'You've talked with her more than any of us, High Mage. She keeps her distance. No-one really seems to know what she is, behind the title of Adjunct. Nobleborn, aye, and from Unta. From House Paran.'

Kalam and Quick Ben exchanged glances, then the assassin pulled out a second flask. 'This one ain't water,' he said, tossing it to the sergeant. 'We knew her brother. Ganoes Paran. He was attached to the Bridgeburners, rank as captain, just before we infiltrated Darujhistan.'

'He led the squads into Coral,' Quick Ben said.

'And died?' Gesler asked after pulling at the flask.

'Most everyone died,' answered the High Mage. 'At any rate, he wasn't an embarrassment as far as officers go. As for Tavore, well, I'm in the dark as much as the rest of you. She's all edges, but they're for keeping people away, not cutting them. At least from what I've seen.'

'She's going to start losing soldiers at Y'Ghatan,' Kalam said.

No-one commented on that observation. Different commanders reacted in different ways to things like that. Some just got stubborn and threw more and more lives away. Others flinched back and if nothing then happened, the spirit of the army drained away. Sieges were battles of will, for the most part, along with cunning. Leoman had shown a capacity for both in this long pursuit west of Raraku. Kalam wasn't sure what Tavore had shown at Raraku – someone else had done most of the killing for her, for the entire Fourteenth, in fact.

Ghosts. Bridgeburners… ascended. Gods, what a chilling thought. They were all half-mad when alive, and now… 'Quick,' Kalam said, 'those ghosts at Raraku… where are they now?'

'No idea. Not with us, though.'

'Ghosts,' Gesler said. 'So the rumours were true – it wasn't no sorcerous spell that slaughtered the Dogslayers. We had unseen allies – who were they?' He paused, then spat. 'You both know, don't you, and you're not telling. Fiddler knows, too, doesn't he? Never mind.

Everybody's got secrets and don't bother asking me to share mine. So that's that.' He handed the flask back. 'Thanks for the donkey piss, Kalam.'

They listened as he crawled back to rejoin his squad.

'Donkey piss?' Quick Ben asked.

'Ground-vine wine, and he's right, it tastes awful. I found it at the Dogslayer camp. Want some?'

'Why not? Anyway, when I said the ghosts weren't with us, I think I was telling the truth. But something is following the army.'

'Well, that's just great.'

'I'm not-'

'Hush! I hear-'

Figures rose from behind the ridge. Gleaming, ancient armour, axes and scimitars, barbaric, painted faces – Khundryl Burned Tears. Swearing, Kalam settled back down, resheathing his long-knives. 'That was a stupid move, you damned savages-'

One spoke: 'Come with us.'

Three hundred paces up the road waited a number of riders, among them the Adjunct Tavore. Flanked by the troop of Khundryl Burned Tears, Kalam, Quick Ben and Gesler and his squad approached the group.

The misshapen moon now cast down a silvery light on the land – it was looking rougher round the edges, Kalam realized, as if the surrounding darkness was gnawing at it – he wondered that he'd not noticed before.

Had it always been like that? 'Good evening, Adjunct,' Quick Ben said as they arrived.

'Why have you returned?' she demanded. 'And why are you not in the Imperial Warren?'

With Tavore were the Fists, the Wickan Temul, Blistig, Keneb and Tene Baralta, as well as Nil and Nether. They looked, one and all, to have been recently roused from sleep, barring the Adjunct herself.

Quick Ben shifted uneasily. 'The warren was being used… by something else. We judged it unsafe, and we concluded you should be told of that as soon as possible. Leoman is now in Y'Ghatan.'

'And you believe he will await us there?'

'Y'Ghatan,' Kalam said, 'is a bitter memory to most Malazans – those that care to remember, anyway. It is where the First-'

'I know, Kalam Mekhar. You need not remind me of that. Very well, I shall assume your assessment is correct. Sergeant Gesler, please join the Khundryl pickets.'

The marine's salute was haphazard, his expression mocking.

Kalam watched Tavore's eyes follow the sergeant and his squad as they headed off. Then she fixed her gaze on Quick Ben once more.