Deadhouse Gates Read Online Free PDF Page B

motion. 'Desert wolves never hunt people.'
    'No,' Mappo agreed. It was another hour before the moon would rise. He watched Icarium lay out six long, stone-tipped arrows, then squinted out into the darkness. Cold fear crept along the nape of his neck. The wolves were not yet visible, but he felt them all the same. 'They are six, but they are one. D'ivers.' Better it would have been a Soletaken. Veering into a single beast is unpleasant enough, but into many . . .
    Icarium frowned. 'One of power, then, to achieve the shape of six wolves. Do you know who it might be?'
    'I have a suspicion,' Mappo said quietly.
    They fell silent, waiting.
    Half a dozen tawny shapes appeared out of a gloom that seemed of its own making, less than thirty strides away. At twenty paces the wolves spread out into an open half-circle facing Mappo and Icarium. The spicy scent of D'ivers filled the still night air. One of the lithe beasts edged forward, then stopped as Icarium raised his bow.
    'Not six,' Icarium muttered, 'but one.'
    'I know him,' Mappo said. 'A shame he can't say the same of us. He is uncertain, but he's taken a blood-spilling form. Tonight, Ryllandaras hunts in the desert. Does he hunt us or something else, I wonder?'
    Icarium shrugged. 'Who shall speak first, Mappo?'
    'Me,' the Trell replied, taking a step forward. This would require guile and cunning. A mistake would prove deadly. He pitched his voice low and wry. 'Long way from home, aren't we. Your brother Treach had it in mind that he killed you. Where was that chasm? Dal Hon? Or was it Li Heng? You were D'ivers jackals then, I seem to recall.'
    Ryllandaras spoke inside their minds, a voice cracking and halting with disuse. I am tempted to match wits with you, N'Trell, before killing you.
    'Might not be worth it,' Mappo replied easily. 'With the company I've been keeping, I'm as out of practice as you, Ryllandaras.'
    The lead wolf's bright blue eyes flicked to Icarium.
    'I have little wits to match,' the Jaghut half-blood said softly, his voice barely carrying. 'And I am losing patience.'
    Foolish. Charm is all that can save you. Tell me, bowman, do you surrender your life to your companion's wiles?
    Icarium shook his head. 'Of course not. I share his opinion of himself.'
    Ryllandaras seemed confused. A matter of expedience then, the two of you travelling together. Companions without trust, without confidence in each other. The stakes must be high.
    'I am getting bored, Mappo,' Icarium said.
    The six wolves stiffened as one, half flinching. Mappo Runt and Icarium. Ah, we see. Know that we've no quarrel with you.
    'Wits matched,' Mappo said, his grin broadening a moment before disappearing entirely. 'Hunt elsewhere, Ryllandaras, before Icarium does Treach a favour.' Before you unleash all that I am sworn to prevent. 'Am I understood?'
    Our trail . . . converges, the D'ivers said, upon the spoor of a demon of Shadow.
    'Not Shadow any longer,' Mappo replied. 'Sha'ik's. The Holy Desert no longer sleeps.'
    So it seems. Do you forbid us our hunt?
    Mappo glanced at Icarium, who lowered his bow and shrugged. 'If you wish to lock jaws with an aptorian, that is your choice. Our interest was only passing.'
    Then indeed shall our jaws close upon the throat of the demon.
    'You would make Sha'ik your enemy?' Mappo asked.
    The lead wolf cocked its head. The name means nothing to me.
    The two travellers watched as the wolves padded off, vanishing
    once again into a gloom of sorcery. Mappo showed his teeth, then sighed, and
    Icarium nodded, giving voice to their shared thought. 'It will, soon.'
     
    The Wickan horsesoldiers loosed fierce cries of exultation as they led their broad-backed horses down the transport's gangplanks. The scene at the quayside of Hissar's Imperial Harbour was chaotic, a mass of unruly tribesmen and women, the flash of iron-headed lances rippling over black braided hair and spiked skullcaps. From his position on the harbour-entrance tower parapet, Duiker looked down on