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She turned round

Tords, points thrust into the ive theasp, and she spun back, to see the bared ar up to wrap about her friend – a woed back – she saw hi, black-streaked face that rose suddenly fro hard in a splatter of blood But the clutching hands would not let go

And they both sank back into the swirling foa, Kettle crawled over to the swords She tugged thee

Li waves

Shivering, Kettle waited

So easy, now, a slave oncethe will of everyblood in his veins Udinaas could barely see through his own eyes, as street after street blurred past Sudden moments of brutal clarity, as he came upon three Soletaken wolves – which turned as one with snarls and bared fangs – and was a into wolf-flesh, curling round ribs and ripping the into the side of a lunging, snapping head, breaking bone – the wolf’s head suddenly lolling, the eyes blank in death

Then, motion once more

His master needed him Needed him now No time to lose

A slave Absolved of all responsibility, nothing more than a tool

And this, Udinaas kneas the poison of surrender

Close, now, and closing

There is nothing new in being used Look upon these sprawled corpses, after all Poor Letherii soldiers lying dead for no reason Defending the corpse of a kingdodood of dust – you will find the temples in crooked alleys, in the cracks between cobbles

You will find, my friends, no sweeter world than this, where honour and faith and freedom are notions levelled one and all, layers as thin as hate, envy and betrayal Every notion vulnerable to any sordid breeze, stirred up, stirred together A world without dee the confused haze of holy apathy

The god of dust rises doht for him

There would, it seemed, be a delay

Udinaas bared his teeth