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‘I will consider it,’ he said after a moment.
Heart thudding, Korya quickly nodded, and then reached for the door’s handle.
It opened to her.
‘He knows we’re here,’ she whispered.
‘Good,’ Ifayle replied, stepping past her and entering the Azath House.
She followed.
As before, the narrow alcove was dimly lit by some unknown source of light, the air cool and dry. The stone wall opposite glistened with something like frost, and an instant later the apparition of the long-dead Bonecaster stepped out from the roughly cut wall.
Before it, Ifayle bowed. ‘Ancient one, I am Ifayle, of the—’
The voice that cut him off was dry and weary. ‘Some tribe, yes, from some plain, or forest, or crag, or perhaps a shoreline, a cave set high above the crashing waves. Where one year blends seamlessly into the next, the sun rising each morning like a new breath, settling each night like a hint of death.’ The ghost of Cadig Aval waved an ethereal hand. ‘From this, to that. Will it ever end? The food is plentiful, the hunt dangerous but fruitful and, of course, exciting. Strangers pass in the distance, revealing new ways of living, but what matter any of that? Still, the winters grow colder, the winds from the north harsher. There are times of hunger, when the animals do not come, or the sea retreats and the bounteous tidal pools disappear. And those strangers, well, more and more of them appear. It seems they breed like maggots. In the meantime, distant kin fall silent, and you sense their absence. Many have left the mortal earth, never to return. A few others now walk among the strangers, who shock the world with mercy. Blood thins. They lose the ways of the earth and the threads of the Sleeping Goddess. They lose the power to see the magic in the hearth-fires. Everything dwindles. You rise one morning and look at your cave, your precious home, and see only its poverty, its exhaustion, and the pale, dirty faces of the few children left to you shatter your heart, because the end is nigh. And then—’
‘Oh for crying out loud!’ Korya snapped. ‘Why don’t you just give him the knife to slash open his own throat!’
Cadig Aval fell silent.
Turning to Ifayle, Korya said, ‘I tried to warn you. He has nothing of worth to say to the living.’
‘Not true,’ the guardian said. ‘To my mortal kin here, I will speak words of dread import. Ifayle, son of whomever, from this tribe or that, dweller of cave or forest or plain, the fate I described will never come to you. The Dog-Runners shall not vanish from the world. When the tyrants come among you, the Strangers in Hiding, look to the dreaming of the Sleeping Goddess. Within, a secret hides.’
When he paused, Ifayle tilted his head. ‘Ancient one?’
Korya crossed her arms. ‘He’s just making the most of the moment,’ she said. ‘After all, he’ll have scant few of these.’
Cadig Aval said, ‘Sadly, the truth of your words, Tiste maiden, is like a knife-thrust into my soul. Then again, I already weary of discourse, and long for the interminable silence of my unending solitude. Thus, the secret. Ifayle, at the core of a dream there is something that cannot be broken. Indeed, it is deathless. Reach into this core, Dog-Runner, to seek the makings of a ritual. Call as well upon Olar Ethil, seeking the spark of Telas – the Eternal Flame – to enliven what remains of you.’ This time, the ghost’s pause was much briefer. ‘But be warned. The deathless gift of the Sleeping Goddess’s dream will end your own dreams. The future loses all relevance and so is made powerless. In escaping death, you must all die, sustained by naught but the spark of Telas.’
Something trembled through Korya and she shivered. ‘Ifayle,’ she said in a low whisper, ‘none of that sounds good.’
‘No,’ Cadig Aval said to her, ‘you are correct, Tiste. A terrible fate awaits Ifayle and his people.’
‘Besides,’ she said, ‘I don’t believe in prophecy.’
‘You are wise,’ the guardian replied. ‘Blame Hood. Time has ceased. Past, present and future are, here and in this frozen instant, all one. Those of us of sufficient power can make use of this, reaching far with our vision. Oh, and it helps being dead, too.’
Ifayle bowed before the guardian. ‘I will remember your words, ancient one.’
‘Stop that. I’m not that ancient, you know. Not really. Not in the vast scheme of things. As old as a world? The lifeline of a star? Understand: we exist for the sole purpose of being witness to existence. This and this alone is our collective contribution to all that has been created. We serve to bring existence into being. Without eyes to see, nothing exists.’
‘Then indeed we have purpose,’ said Ifayle.
Cadig Aval shrugged. ‘Assuming all that exists has purpose, an assumption of which I remain unconvinced.’
‘What do you need to be convinced?’ Korya demanded.
‘Persuasion.’
‘From whom?’
‘Yes, that is the frustrating part, isn’t it?’
With a faint snarl, Korya took Ifayle by the hand, pulling him back towards the door. ‘We’re leaving now.’
‘Well,’ said Cadig Aval behind them, ‘it was fun while it lasted. Perhaps,’ the ghost added, ‘that is all the purpose required.’
