‘They’re just damned albinos, Cotillion, a detail probably irrelevant, and besides, there’re only two of them-’
‘That we know of, and we know of them only because they wandered into our realm-why? What or who summoned them?’
‘I did, of course.’
‘How?’
Shadowthrone shrugged. ‘I mused out loud on the need for… replacements.’
‘And that constitutes summoning? I believe I have also heard you musing on the “need” for a breathlessly beautiful Queen of Shadow, a slave to your every desire-’
‘You were hiding behind the curtain! I knew it!’
‘The point is, where is she?’
The question was left unanswered, as Tulas Shorn had arrived, halting ten paces before them. ‘It seems,’ the undead Tiste Edur said, ‘my Hounds have found new… pets.’
‘Saw his head off, Cotillion,’ Shadowthrone said. ‘I hate him already.’
Shan slid up beside Cotillion, eyes fixed on Tulas Shorn. A moment later Baran, Rood, Blind and Gear arrived, padding round the rulers of the Realm of Shadow, and onward to encircle the Tiste Edur. /
Who held out his hands, as if inviting the beasts to draw close.
None did.
‘They preferred you living, I think,’ Cotillion observed. ‘The dead surrender so much.’
‘If only my sentiments were dead,’ Tulas Shorn said, then sighed as it lowered its hands to its sides once more. ‘Still, it pleases me to see them. But two are missing.’
At that Cotillion glanced round. ‘Well, you’re right.’
‘Killed?’
‘Killed,’ confirmed Shadowthrone.
‘Who?’
‘Anomander Rake.’
At the name Tulas Shorn started.
‘Still around,’ said Shadowthrone, ‘yes. Hee hee. Houndslayer.’
‘And neither of you strong enough to avenge the slayings, it seems. I am astonished that my Hounds have accepted such feeble masters.’
‘I thought it was pets. No matter. Ganrod and Doan died because they were precipitate. Blame poor training. I do.’
‘I am of a mind to test you,’ said Tulas Shorn after a moment.
‘You want the Throne of Shadow, do you?’
‘My first rule was cut short. I have learned since-’
‘Hardly. You died.’ Shadowthrone waved one ephemeral hand. ‘Whatever you learned, you did not learn well enough. Obviously.’
‘You seem certain of that.’
‘He is,’ said Cotillion.
‘Is it simply megalomania, then, that so afflicts him?’
‘Well, yes, but that’s beside the point.’
‘And what is the point?’
‘That you clearly have not learned anything worthwhile.’
‘And why do you say that?’
‘Because you’ve just said that you were of a mind to test us.’
Tulas Shorn cocked its head. ‘Do you imagine the Hounds will defend you?’
‘These ones? Probably not.’
‘Then-’ But the rest of his statement was left unfinished, as Lock and Pallid arrived, heads low, hackles upright like spines, to flank Shadowthrone and Cotillion. Upon seeing them, Tulas Shorn stepped back. ‘By the Abyss,’ it whispered, ‘have you two lost your minds? They cannot be here-they must not be among you-’
‘Why?’ Cotillion demanded, leaning forward in sudden interest.
But the Tiste Edur simply shook its head.
The two bone-white Hounds looked barely restrained, moments from exploding into a deadly charge. The hate was avid in their eyes.
‘Why?’ Cotillion asked again.
‘The… implacability of forces-we think to tame, but the wildness remains. Control is a delusion in the mind of self-proclaimed masters.’ And that last word dripped with contempt. ‘The leash, you fools, is frayed-don’t you understand anything at all?’’Perhaps-’
Tulas Shorn lifted both hands again, but this time in a warding gesture. ‘We’d thought the same, once. We’d deceived ourselves into thinking we were the mas-ters, that every force bowed to our command. And what happened? They destroyed everything!’
‘I don’t-’
‘Understand! / see that! They are conjurations-manifestations-they exist to warn you. They are the proof that all that you think to enslave will turn on you.’ And it backed away. ‘The end begins again, it begins again.’
Cotillion stepped forward. ‘Light, Dark and Shadow-these three-are you saying-’
