‘A tally.’
‘You want to know the present state of the treasury.’
‘Yes.’
‘I can do that.’
‘No you can’t.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because you’ll have been dismembered by then.’
‘Thus permitting me to slip into places where I otherwise wouldn’t fit.’
‘Shurq, they take your head off too, you know. It’s the last thing they do.’
‘Really? That’s barbaric’
‘Like I said, you would be greatly inconvenienced.’
‘I would at that. Well, I shall endeavour to be careful. Mind you, even a head can count.’
‘What would you have me do, break in and lob your head into the vaults? Tied to a rope so I can pull you out again when you’re done?’
‘That sounds somewhat problematic.’
‘It does, doesn’t it?’
‘Can’t you plan any better than that, Tehol Beddict? My faith in you is fast diminishing.’
‘Can’t be helped, I suppose. What’s this I hear about you purchasing a seagoing vessel?’
‘That was supposed to be a secret. Bugg said he wouldn’t tell-’
‘He didn’t. I have my own sources of intelligence, especially when the owner of the vessel just sold happens to be me. Indirectly, of course.’
‘All right. Me and Ublala and Harlest, we want to be pirates.’
‘Don’t make me laugh, Shurq.’
‘Now you’re being cruel.’
‘Sorry. Pirates, you say. Well, all three of you are notoriously hard to drown. Might work at that.’
‘Your confidence and well-wishing overwhelms me.’
‘And when do you plan on embarking on this new venture?’
‘When you’re done with us, of course.’
Tehol tugged up his trousers again. ‘Yet another edifying conversation with you, Shurq. Now, I smell something that might well be soup, and you need to go back to your crypt.’
‘Sometimes I really hate you.’
He led her by the hand down the shallow, crumbling steps. She liked these journeys, even though the places he took her were strange and often… disturbing. This time, they descended an inverted stepped pyramid – at least that was what he called it. Four sides to the vast, funnelled pit, and at the base there was a small square of darkness.
The air was humid enough to leave droplets on her bare arms. Far overhead, the sky was white and formless. She did not know if it was hot – memories of such sensations had begun to fade, along with so many other things.
They reached the base of the pit and she looked up at the tall, pale figure at her side. His face was becoming more visible, less blurred. It looked handsome, but hard. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said after a moment, ‘that she’s got you by the ankles.’
‘We all have our burdens, Kettle.’
‘Where are we?’
‘You have no recognition of this place?’
‘No. Maybe.’
‘Let us continue down, then.’
Into the darkness, three rungs to a landing, then a spiral staircase of black stone.
‘Round and round,’ Kettle said, giggling.
A short while later they came to the end, the stairs opening out onto a sprawling, high-ceilinged chamber. The gloom was no obstacle to Kettle, nor, she suspected, to her companion. She could see a ragged mound heaped against the far wall to their right, and made to move towards it, but his hand drew her back.
‘No, lass. Not there.’
He led her instead directly ahead. Three doorways, each one elaborately arched and framed with reverse impressions of columns. Between them, the walls displayed deeply carved images.
‘As you can see,’ he said, ‘there is a reversal of perspective. That which is closest is carved deepest. There is significance to all this.’
‘Where are we?’
‘To achieve peace, destruction is delivered. To give the gift of freedom, one promises eternal imprisonment. Adjudication obviates the need for justice. This is a studied, deliberate embrace of diametric opposition. It is a belief in balance, a belief asserted with the conviction of religion. But in this case, the proof of a god’s power lies not in the cause but in the effect. Accordingly, in this world and in all others, proof is achieved by action, and therefore all action – including the act of choosing inaction – is inherently moral. No deed stands outside the moral context. At the same time, the most morally perfect act is the one taken in opposition to what has occurred before.’