‘You are bold,’ she said to Baruk, who stood facing the dais with hands folded. ‘Arid the reach of your power, and will, is most impressive.’
‘Thank you,’ replied the High Alchemist, squinting at the demon he had conjured and then trapped. ‘Our conversations have been… most enlightening. Of course, what we see here is not a true physical manifestation. A soul, I believe, disconnected from its corporeal self.’
‘With eyes of jade/ Crone noted, beak opening in silent laughter. She hesitated, then asked, ‘What has it told you?’
Baruk smiled.
From the mantel above the fireplace Chillbais wheezed derisively and made insulting gestures with its stubby hands.
‘You should spike that thing to a wall,’ Crone hissed. ‘At the very least send it back up the chimney and thus out of my sight.’
Baruk spoke as if he had not heard Crone’s complaining: ‘Its flesh is very far away indeed. I was granted an image of the flesh-a human, as far as I could tell, which is in itself rather extraordinary. I was able to capture the soul due to its heightened meditative state, one in which the detachment is very nearly absolute.
‘I doubt the original body draws breath ten times a bell. A most spiritual individual, Crone.’
The Great Raven retured her attention to the apparition. Studied its jade eyes, its jagged traceries of crackling filaments, pulsing like a slowed heart. ‘And you know, then,’she said.
‘Yes. The demon is from the realm of the Fallen One. His birthplace.’
‘Meditating, you say. Seeking its god?’
‘That seems likely,’ Baruk murmured. ‘Reaching, touching… recoiling.’
‘From the agony, from the ferocious fires of pain.’
‘I will send it home, soon.’
Crone half spread her wings and hopped down on to the tiles. Cocking her head, she fixed an eye upon the High Alchemist. ‘This is not simple curiosity.’
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‘You are bold,’ she said to Baruk, who stood facing the dais with hands folded. ‘Arid the reach of your power, and will, is most impressive.’
‘Thank you,’ replied the High Alchemist, squinting at the demon he had conjured and then trapped. ‘Our conversations have been… most enlightening. Of course, what we see here is not a true physical manifestation. A soul, I believe, disconnected from its corporeal self.’
‘With eyes of jade/ Crone noted, beak opening in silent laughter. She hesitated, then asked, ‘What has it told you?’
Baruk smiled.
From the mantel above the fireplace Chillbais wheezed derisively and made insulting gestures with its stubby hands.
‘You should spike that thing to a wall,’ Crone hissed. ‘At the very least send it back up the chimney and thus out of my sight.’
Baruk spoke as if he had not heard Crone’s complaining: ‘Its flesh is very far away indeed. I was granted an image of the flesh-a human, as far as I could tell, which is in itself rather extraordinary. I was able to capture the soul due to its heightened meditative state, one in which the detachment is very nearly absolute.
‘I doubt the original body draws breath ten times a bell. A most spiritual individual, Crone.’
The Great Raven retured her attention to the apparition. Studied its jade eyes, its jagged traceries of crackling filaments, pulsing like a slowed heart. ‘And you know, then,’she said.
‘Yes. The demon is from the realm of the Fallen One. His birthplace.’
‘Meditating, you say. Seeking its god?’
‘That seems likely,’ Baruk murmured. ‘Reaching, touching… recoiling.’
‘From the agony, from the ferocious fires of pain.’
‘I will send it home, soon.’
Crone half spread her wings and hopped down on to the tiles. Cocking her head, she fixed an eye upon the High Alchemist. ‘This is not simple curiosity.’
Baruk blinked, then turned away. ‘I had a guest, not so long ago.’
‘In truth?’
The High Alchemist paused, then shook his head. ‘Half-truth.’
‘Did he sit in a chair?’
‘Well now, that would hardly be appropriate, Crone.’
She laughed. ‘Shadowthrone.’
‘Please, do not act surprised,’ Baruk said. ‘Your master is well aware of such matters. Tell me, where are the rest of them?’
‘Them?’
‘The gods and goddesses. The ones cringing every time the Crippled God clears his throat. So eager for this war, as long as someone else does the fighting. None of this should be set at your Lord’s feet. I don’t know what Shadowthrone has offered Anomander Rake, but you would do well to warn your master, Crone. With Shadow, nothing is as it seems. Nothing.’
The Great Raven cackled, then said, ‘So true, so true.’ And now it was his turn, she noted, to regard her with growing suspicion. ‘Oh, Baruk, people raise standing stones, one after another, only to topple them down one by one. Is it not always the way? They dig holes only to.fill them in again. As for us Great Ravens, why, we build nests only to tear them apart next season, all because the mad lizard in our skulls demands it. See your demon on the dais. It pays nothing to be spiritual, when it is the flesh that ever clamours for attention. So send him back, yes, that he can begin to repair all the severed tendons-whilst his comrades witness the distance of his gaze, and wonder, and yearn to find the same otherworldliness for themselves, fools that they all are.
‘Have you exhorted him to pray all the harder, Baruk? I thought as much, but it’s no use, I tell you, and who better to make such judgement? And consider’this: my master is not bhnd. He has never been blind. He stands before a towering stone, yes, and would see it toppled. So, old friend, be sure to stay a safe distance.’
‘How can I?’ the High Alchemist retorted.
‘Send the soul home,’ Crone said again. ‘Look to the threat that even now creeps closer in the night, that is but moments from plucking the strands of your highest wards-to announce her arrival, yes, to evince her… desperation.’ She hopped towards the nearest window sill. ‘For myself, I must now depart, yes, winging away most quickly.’
‘A moment. You have lingered, Crone, in search of something. And it seems you have found it.’
‘I have,’ she replied, cackling again.
‘Well?’
‘Only confirmation, to ease my master’s mind.’
‘Confirmation? Ah, that Shadowthrone spoke true.’