Felisin barked another laugh. 'That'll make him complete.'
'Shut up, girl,' Kulp growled, pushing past to descend to the main deck. 'We're not Servants of the Chained One,' he said. 'Hood's breath, what is the Chained One? Never mind, I don't even want to know. We're on this ship by accident, not design—'
'We did not anticipate this warren would be flooded,' the female said.
'It's said you can cross oceans,' the mage muttered, frowning. Felisin could see he was having trouble following the "Plan Imass's statements. So was she.
'We can cross bodies of water,' the female acknowledged.
'But we can only find our shapes on land.'
'So, like us, you came to this ship to get your feet dry—'
'And complete our task. We pursue renegade kin.'
'If they were here, they've since left,' Kulp said. 'Before we arrived. You are a Bonecaster.'
The female inclined her head. 'Hentos Ilm, of Logros T'lann
Imass.'
'And the Logros no longer serve the Malazan Empire. Glad to see you're staying busy.' 'Why?'
'Never mind.' Kulp looked skyward. 'He's eased up some.' 'He senses us,' Hentos Ilm said. She faced Heboric again.
'Your left hand is in balance, it is true. Otataral and a power unknown to me. If the mage in the storm continues to grow in power, the Otataral shall prevail, and you too shall know its madness.'
'I want it gone from me,' Heboric growled. 'Please.' Hentos Ilm shrugged, and approached the ex-priest. 'We must destroy the one in the skies. Then we must seal the warren's wound.'
'In other words,' Felisin said, 'you're probably not worth the trouble, old man.'
'Bonecaster,' Kulp said. 'What warren is this?'
Hentos Ilm paused, attention still on Heboric. 'Elder.
Kurald Emurlahn.'
'I've heard of Kurald Galain – the Tiste Andii warren.' 'This is Tiste Edur. You surprise me, Mage. You are Meanas
Rashan, which is the branch of Kurald Emurlahn accessible to mortal humans. The warren you use is the child of this place.'
Kulp was scowling at the Bonecaster's back. 'This makes no sense. Meanas Rashan is the warren of Shadow. Of Ammanas and Cotillion, and the Hounds.'
'Before Shadowthrone and Cotillion,' Hentos Ilm said, 'there were Tiste Edur.' The Bonecaster reached towards Heboric. 'I would touch you.'
'Be my guest,' he said.
Felisin watched her place the palm of one withered hand against the old man's chest. After a moment she stepped back and turned away as if dismissing him. She addressed the bear-furred T'lan Imass who'd spoken earlier. 'You are clanless, Legana Breed.'
'I am clanless,' he agreed.
She pointed at Kulp. 'Mage. Do nothing.'
'Wait!' Heboric said. 'What did you sense in me?'
'You are shorn from your god, though he continues to make use of you. I see no other purpose in your existence.'
Felisin bit back a nasty comment. Not this one. She could see Heboric's shoulders slowly sag, as if some vital essence had been pulled, pulped and dripping blood, from his chest. He'd clung hard to something, and the Bonecaster had just pronounced it dead. I'm running out of things to wound in him. Maybe that'll keep me from trying.
Hentos Ilm tilted her head back, then began dissolving, the dust of her being spinning in place. A moment later it spiralled upward, swiftly vanishing in the low clouds boiling overhead.
Lightning cracked, a rap of pain in Felisin's ears. Crying out, she fell to her knees. The others suffered in like manner, with the exception of the remaining T'lan Imass, who stood in motionless indifference. The Silanda bucked. The mud-smeared pyramid of severed heads around the main mast collapsed. Heads tumbled and bounced heavily on the deck.
The T'lan Imass spun at that, weapons suddenly out.
Thunder bellowed in the roiling stormclouds. The air shivered again.
The one named Legana Breed reached down and lifted one head by its long, black hair. It was Tiste Andii, a woman. 'She still lives,' the undead warrior said, revealing a muted hint of surprise. 'Kurald Emurlahn, the sorcery has locked their souls to their flesh.'
A faint shriek bounced down through the clouds, a sound filled with despair and – jarringly – release. The clouds spilled out in every direction, tearing into thin wisps. A pale amber sky burned through. The storm was gone, and so too was the mad sorcerer.
Felisin ducked as something winged past her, leaving in its wake a musty, dead smell. When she looked up Hentos Ilm stood once again on the main deck, facing Legana Breed. Neither moved, suggesting a silent conversation was underway.