Cutter, an assassin

Scillara, his companion

Iskaral Pust, High Priest of Shadow, the Magi, God of the Bhokarala

Sister Spite, a Soletaken

Mogora, Iskaral’s occasional wife

Barathol Mekhar, a tourist

Chaur, a gentle man

Mappo Runt, a Trell

Picker, a retired Bridgeburner and partner in K’rul’s Bar

Blend, a retired Bridgeburner and partner in K’rul’s Bar

Antsy, a retired Bridgeburner and partner in K’rul’s Bar

Mallet, a retired Bridgeburner and healer

Bluepearl, a retired Bridgeburner

Fisher, a bard, a regular at K’rul’s Bar

Duiker, once the Malazan Empire’s

Imperial Historian

Bellam Nom, a young man

Rallick Nom, an awakened assassin

Torvald Nom, a cousin of Rallick’s

Tiserra, Torvald’s wife

Coll, a Council Member in Darujhistan

Estraysian D’Arle, a Council Member in Darujhistan

Hanut Orr, a Council Member in

Darujhistan, nephew of the late

Turban Orr

Shardan Lim, a Council Member in

Darujhistan

Murillio, a consort

Kruppe, a round little man

Meese, proprietor of the Phoenix Inn

Irilta, a regular at the Phoenix Inn

Scurve, barkeep at the Phoenix Inn

Sulty, server at the Phoenix Inn

Challice, wife of Vidikas, daughter of

Estraysian D’Arle

Gorlas Vidikas, newest Council Member in Darujhistan, past Hero of the Fete

Krute of Talient, an agent of the Assassins’ Guild Gaz, a killer

Thordy, Gaz’s wife

Master Quell, Trygalle Trade Guild navigator and sorcerer

Faint, a shareholder

Reccanto Ilk, a shareholder

Sweetest Sufferance, a shareholder

Glanno Tarp, a shareholder

Amby Bole, a retired Mott Irregular and newfound shareholder

Jula Bole, a retired Mott Irregular and newfound shareholder

Precious Thimble, a retired Mott

Irregular and newfound shareholder

Gruntle, a caravan guard on extended leave

Stonny Menackis, a caravan guard

Harllo, a child

Bedek, Harllo’s ‘uncle’

Myrla, Harllo’s ‘aunt’

Snell, a child

Bainisk Venaz

Scorch, a newly hired bodyguard

Leff, a newly hired bodyguard

Madrun, a newly hired compound guard

Lazan Door, a newly hired compound guard

Studlock (or Studious Lock), a castellan

Humble Measure, a mysterious presence in Darujhistan’s criminal underworld

Chillbais, a demon

Baruk, a member of the T’orrud Cabal

Vorcan, Mistress of the Assassins’ Guild

Seba Krafar, Master of the Assassins’

Guild

Apsal’ara

Kadaspala

Derudan, a witch of Tennes K’rul, an Elder God Draconus, one of the Slain within Dragnipur

Korlat, a Tiste Andii Soletakcn

Orfantal, a Tiste Andii Soletaken, Korlat’s brother

Kallor, a challenger Lady Envy, a bystander

Anomander Rake, Son of Darkness,

Knight of Darkness, Ruler of Black

Coral

Spinnock Durav, a Tiste Andii

Endest Silann, a Tiste Andii wizard

Caladan Brood, a Warlord

Hood, the God of Death Ditch

Samar Dev, a witch

Karsa Orlong, a Teblor Toblakai warrior

Traveller, a stranger

Shadowthrone, the God of Shadow

Cotillion, The Rope, Patron God of

Assassins Prophet

Seech, the High Priest of the

Fallen One, once a middling artist named Munug

Silanah, an Eleint

Crone, a Great Raven

Raest, a Jaghut Tyrant (retired)

Clip, Mortal Sword of Darkness

Nimander Golit, a Tiste Andii, Skintick, Nenanda, Aranatha, Kedeviss, Desra.

Sordiko Qualm, a High Priestess

Salind, a High Priestess Seerdomin Gradithan Monkrat

Baran, a Hound of Shadow

Gear, a Hound of Shadow

Blind, a Hound of Shadow

Rood, a Hound of Shadow

Shan, a Hound of Shadow

Pallid, a new Hound of Shadow

Lock, a new Hound of Shadow

Edgewalkcr, a wanderer Dog walkers, two witnesses

‘I have no name for this town,’ the ragged man said, hands plucking at the frayed hems of what had once been an opulent cloak. Coiled and tucked into his braided belt was a length of leather leash, rotting and tattered. ‘It needs a name, I think,’ he continued, voice raised to be heard above the vicious fighting of the dogs, ‘yet I find a certain failing of imagination, and no one seems much interested.’

The woman standing now at his side, to whom he companionably addressed these remarks, had but newly arrived. Of her life in the time before, very little re¬mained. She had not owned a dog, yet she had found herself staggering down the high street of this decrepit, strange town clutching a leash against which a foul-tempered brute tugged and lunged at every passerby. The rotted leather had finally parted, freeing the beast to bolt forward, launching an attack upon this man’s own dog.

The two animals were now trying to kill each other in the middle of the street, their audience none but their presumed owners. Dust had given way to blood and tufts of hide.

‘There was a garrison, once, three soldiers who didn’t know each other,’ the man said. ‘But one by one they left.’

‘I never owned a dog before,’ she replied, and it was with a start that she realized that these were the first words she had uttered since… well, since the time before.

‘Nor I,’ admitted the man. ‘And until now, mine was the only dog in town. Oddly enough, I never grew fond of the wretched beast.’

‘How long have you… er, been here?’

‘I have no idea, but it seems like for ever.’

She looked round, then nodded. ‘Me too.’

‘Alas, I believe your pet has died.’

‘Oh! So it has.’ She frowned down at the broken leash in her hand. ‘I suppose I won’t be needing a new one, then.’

‘Don’t be too certain of that,’ the man said. ‘We seem to repeat things here. Day after day. But listen, you can have mine-I never use it, as you can see.’

She accepted the coiled leash. ‘Thank you.’ She took it out to where her dead dog was lying, more or less torn to pieces. The victor was crawling back towards its master leaving a trail of blood.

Everything seemed knocked strangely askew, including, she realized, her own impulses. She crouched down and gently lifted her dead dog’s mangled head, working the loop over until it encircled the torn neck. Then she lowered the bloody, spit-lathered head back to the ground and straightened, holding the leash loose in her right hand.

The man joined her. ‘Aye, it’s all rather confusing, isn’t it?’

‘Yes.’

‘And we thought life was confusing.’

She shot him a glance. ‘So we am dead, are we?’

‘I think so.’

‘Then I don’t understand. I was to have been interred in a crypt. A fine, solid crypt-I saw it myself. Richly appointed and proof against thieves, with casks of wine and seasoned meats and fruit for the journey-’ She gestured down at the rags she was wearing. ‘I was to be dressed in my finest clothes, wearing all my jewellery.’