Dust of Dreams

‘Still far away,’ Bottle hastily added. ‘There’s nothing within twenty leagues of us. That I know of-some ascendants are good at hiding-’

‘You winging out there, Bottle? How often?’

‘Hardly at all, Sergeant. It’s scary out there. In the dark, I mean.’ Bottle was beginning to regret coming back here. What’s with me, anyway? Sticking my nose into every damned thing, and if it stinks real bad what do I do? I go find something else to stick my nose in. And they all stink-you’d imagine, wouldn’t you, I might quit the habit. But no, of course not. Gods, Bottle, listen to yourself-

Quick Ben sat up, cradling his head. ‘What?’ he asked. ‘What?’

‘Took a fall there, High Mage,’ said Fiddler.

‘A fall?’

‘Aye, I’m thinking you was struck with a thought.’

Quick Ben spat, gingerly probing the side of his head. ‘Must have been some thought,’ he muttered. ‘Hit so hard I can’t even remember it.’

‘Happens,’ said Fiddler. ‘Listen, Bottle. Wasn’t a T’lan Imass who kidnapped Gesler and Stormy. It was what we talked about before: K’Chain Che’Malle.’

‘Wait,’ said Quick Ben. ‘Who said anything about T’lan Imass?’

‘I did,’ Bottle replied. ‘You were the one talking about winged K’Chain Che’Malle.’

Fiddler snorted. ‘No doubt the Adjunct will talk to us about the fucking Forkrul Assail. Who’s left? Oh, the Jaghut-’

‘Still days away-’ said Bottle and Quick Ben in unison, and then glared at each other.

Fiddler’s face reddened. ‘You bastards,’ he hissed under his breath. ‘Both of you! We’ve got a Jaghut tracking us?’

‘Not one,’ admitted Bottle. ‘I counted fourteen. Each one a walking armoury. But I don’t think they’re actually following us, Sergeant-unless our High Mage knows more about it, which is possible.’

Fiddler had buried the fingers of one hand in his beard and looked ready to start tearing loose handfuls. ‘You reporting all this to the Adjunct, Quick?’

The High Mage scowled and looked away. ‘I’ve given up. Nothing surprises her, Fid. It’s as if she already knows.’

‘Bottle, any hint of K’Chain Che’Malle? Your nightly explorations go out how far?’

‘Depends on how crowded it is out there,’ Bottle admitted. ‘But, thinking on it, there’s plenty of agitation going on, especially among the winged stuff-the rhinazan, the capemoths. The scaled rats keep massing and setting off on wild paths, as if trying to follow something. Oh, and I’ve caught the occasional scent on the winds, but I took those to be draconic. I don’t even know what a K’Chain Che’Malle smells like.’

Quick Ben flung the scrap of canvas at Bottle. ‘Yes you do.’

It dropped at Bottle’s feet. ‘Right,’ he said, looking down at it. ‘Oily lizards.’

‘Draconic,’ said Fiddler. ‘Forgot about those. Anyone we know, Quick?’

‘You’re asking me? Bottle’s the one smelling them.’

‘I am. Well?’

The wizard hesitated, and then said, ‘Aye, we bloodied him at Letheras.’

‘Can’t keep a fly from buzzing your shit,’ said Bottle, earning hard looks from both men. ‘Look, the Wastelands may be all wastes, but they ain’t empty, Sergeant. I’m wagering the High Mage here suspects why it’s so crowded. In fact,’ he added, ‘I think you know too, Sergeant. That pig of a reading you did-and then what hit you a few days back-someone showed up, and you probably know who-’

‘Bottle,’ cut in Fiddler. ‘Just how much do you really want to know? I told you to keep your head down, didn’t I? Now here you are, and here comes the Adjunct and Yil. I sent you back to the squad for a reason, soldier. You should’ve listened. Now it’s too late.’

Keneb sent Bulge off to finish striking his command tent and rode through the breaking camps of the Ninth Company. Soldiers stopped talking to watch him ride past. There was none of the usual banter, suggesting to Keneb that the tale of the ‘incident’ at Gesler’s camp had bled out among the ranks. Whatever had happened, it looked bad.