Reaper's Gale

She lifted her head with a sharp motion, blood and fragments of human lung smearing her mouth and chin, sliding then dripping down into the split-open ribcage of her victim-a fool who, consumed by delusions of domination and tyranny no doubt, had chosen to stalk her all the way from Up Markets. It had become a simple enough thing, a lone, seemingly lost woman of high birth, wander-ing through crowds unaware of the hooded looks and expressions of avarice tracking her. She was like the bait the fisher folk used to snare brainless fish in the river. True, while she remained hooded, her arms covered in shimmering silk the hue of raw ox-heart, wearing elegant calf-leather gloves, as well as close-wrapped leggings of black linen, there was no way anyone could see the cast of her skin, nor her unusual features. And, despite the Tiste Edur blood coursing diluted in her veins, she was not. uncommonly tall, which well suited her apparent vulnerability, for it was clear that these Edur occupiers in this city were far too dangerous to be hunted by the common Letherii rapist.

She had led him into an alley, whereupon she drove one hand into his chest, tearing out his heart. But it was the lungs she enjoyed the most, the pulpy meat rich with oxygen and not yet soured by the rank juices of violent death.

The mortal realm was a delightful place. She had forgotten that.

But now, her feeding had been interrupted. Someone had come to the Azath grounds. Someone had probed her rituals, which had been dissolving the binding wards set by Silchas Ruin. There could be trouble there, and she was not inclined to suffer interference in her plans.

Probably the Errant, that meddling bastard. Or, even more alarming, that Elder God, Mael. A miserably crowded city, this Letheras-she had no intention of tarrying over-long here, lest her presence be discovered, her schemes knocked awry.

Wiping her mouth and chin with the back of one sleeved forearm, she straightened from her feast, then set off.

Rautos Hivanar, head of the Liberty Consign, squatted on the muddy bank of the river, the work crews finishing the day’s excavation directly behind him, the pump crews already washing down, the sounds from the estate’s back kitchen rising with the approaching demands of supper. He was making a point of feeding his diggers well, as much to ease their bemusement as to keep them working. They were now excavating way below the river level, after all, and if not for the constantly manned pumps, they would be working chest-deep in muddy water. As it was, the shoring on the walls needed continual attention, prone as they were to sag inward.

Eyes tracking a half-dozen vinik nests rafting down the river, Rautos Hivanar was lost in thought. There had been more mysterious objects, buried deep and disconnected, but he had begun to suspect that they all belonged together; that in an as yet inconceivable way they could be assembled into a kind of mechanism. Some central piece remained undiscovered, he believed. Perhaps tomorrow…

He heard slippered feet on the plank walkway leading down to the river, and a moment later came Venitt Sathad’s voice. ‘Master.’

‘Venitt, you have allotted yourself two house guards for the journey. Take two more. And, accordingly, two more packhorses. You will travel without a supply wagon, as agreed, but that need not be a reason to reduce your level of comfort.’

‘Very well, Master.’

And remember, Venitt. Letur Anict is in every way the de facto ruler of Drene, regardless of the Edur governor’s official status. I am informed that you will find Orbyn Truthfinder, the Invigilator’s agent, a reliable ally. As to Letur Anict… the evidence points to the Factor’s having lost… perspective. His ambition seems without restraint, no longer harnessed to reason or, for that matter, common sense.’

‘I shall be diligent in my investigation, Master.’

Rautos Hivanar rose and faced his servant. ‘If needs must, Venitt, err on the side of caution. I would not lose you.’

A flicker of something like surprise in the Indebted’s lined face, then the man bowed. ‘I will remain circumspect, Master.’

‘One last thing,’ Rautos said as he moved past Venitt on his way up to the estate. ‘Do not embarrass me.’

The Indebted’s eyes tracked his master for a moment, his expression once more closed.

Unseen behind them on the river, a huge shape lifted beneath one vinik nest, and breaking the water as the nest overturned was the prow ridge of an enormous shell, and below that a sinewy neck and a vast, gaping beak. Swallowing the nest entire.

The currents then carried the disturbance away, until no sign of it remained.

‘You know, witnessing something is one thing. Understanding it another.’

Bugg turned away from his study of the distant river, where the setting sun’s light turned the water into a rippled sheet of beaten gold, and frowned at Tehol Beddict. ‘Very pondering of you, Master.’