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‘Perhaps because it is the very opposite of existence-’

‘But it isn’t, Brys, it isn’t Errant take us, death is all around us We stride over it, we breathe it, we soak its essence into our lungs, our blood We feed upon it daily We thrive in the midst of decay and dissolution’

Brys studied the Ceda ‘It occurs to me,’ he said slowly, ‘that life itself is a celebration of denial The denial of which you speak, Kuru Qan Our flight – well, to flee is to lift oneself clear of the bones, the ashes, the fallen away’

‘Flee – to where?’

‘Granted Nowhere but elsewhere I wonder if what you’ve said is being manifested, in creatures such as Kettle and that thief, Shurq Elalle-’

The Ceda’s head snapped up, eyes suddenly alert behind the thick lenses ‘I’ of those who are denied death in truth, Ceda The child, Kettle-’

‘The guardian of the Azath? She is undead?’

‘Yes I’m sure I mentioned-’

Kuru Qan was on his feet ‘Are you certain of this? Brys Beddict, she is an undead?’

‘She is But I don’t understand-’

‘Stand up, Brys We’re going Now’

‘It’s all the fallen people,’ Kettle said ‘They want answers They won’t go until they get answers’

Shurq Elalle kicked away an insect that had crawled onto her boot ‘Answers about what?’

‘Why they died’

‘There are no answers,’ Shurq replied ‘It’s what people do Die They die They always die’

‘We didn’t’

‘Yes we did’

‘Well, we didn’t go away’

‘From the sound of it, Kettle, neither did they’

‘That’s true I wonder why I didn’t think of that’

‘Because you were about ten years old when you died’

‘Well, what do I do now?’

Shurq studied the overgrown, ground-heaved yard ‘You gave me the idea, and that’s why I a round this place, hovering just outside the walls Can you talk to the interesting’