‘Where's your spear?’

The Thel Akai looked up and in his golden eyes something flashed that stabbed Kyle to his heart before it was hidden away and the familiar wintry smile returned to his lips. ‘Not here, Kyle. Not in my homeland.’

The brothers continued fussing with their equipment. Stalker checked the positioning of more weapons than Kyle had even guessed he might be carrying. He wondered what they were waiting for then, then Traveller re-entered the tent, and he understood.

The man examined each of them in turn, his face dark with churning emotions Kyle couldn't name, a kind of impatient anger, even disgust. The lines that bracketed his mouth slashed down like cuts. He nodded his approval and the Lost brothers jumped to the tent flap, flanking it with hands on their weapons. Stalker ducked out first. Traveller exited, then Kyle and Ereko. The brothers brought up the rear.

Jhest awaited them down the beach near the Kite. He stood next to a collection of bundled fruits, foodstuffs and wooden casks that Kyle presumed held water. Also present were the tall soldiers, positioned in a wide semicircle. They wore no uniforms or colours, only a strange sort of armour made from a mosaic of small stones, each a slightly differing shade of green, varying from dark sea-blue-green to a pale yellow-olive. Helms completely enclosed their faces and gauntlets their hands – all of the same shimmering mosaic surface. The weapons at their waists were hidden in wooden sheaths clasped in worked bronze, but from the shape they appeared curved and perhaps flaring out toward the point.

Jhest bowed. ‘I trust you slept well and are refreshed. Please do not be alarmed by the presence of our soldiers. They are here to help load your vessel. You must find them somewhat familiar, yes? They are inspired by the many insights gained by those Malazan allies, the Moranth.’

‘Yes,’ Traveller answered curtly. Thank you for the food and water. We will be leaving now.’

‘If you must. But I must ask that you reconsider your goal.’

Traveller, who had bent to a cask, straightened to face Jhest. ‘Yes?’ Ereko picked up two casks, one under each arm, and began loading the Kite. Kyle and the Lost brothers all spread out around Traveller.

‘You really do not expect to succeed, do you? It is impossible. You would only be throwing away your existence in a futile gesture. Your presumption is beyond arrogance. It is a sad waste.’

Traveller was silent for some time. Kyle, his back to them and eyes fixed on the soldiers, could only hear their exchange. He adjusted his footing – the sand was strangely loose and yielding now, unlike earlier when they had landed the Kite. Traveller finally answered, his voice so low Kyle barely caught it, ‘Do not come between me and my vengeance, Jhest. My response will be felt not just by you, but by all those who speak with you as well – and who are no doubt listening at this very moment. Think on that!’ he suddenly yelled, startling Kyle.

‘That is the question, is it not?’ Jhest answered, his voice still eerily flat, unperturbed. ‘Are we interposing ourselves when said goal is then abandoned? An interesting philosophical point, yes? Room enough, perhaps, for the risk.’

‘Finished,’ Ereko called. Kyle and Stalker, on one side, began edging backwards.

‘You risk far more than you comprehend,’ Traveller said, sounding almost regretful.

‘It would not be a risk otherwise.’

Beneath Kyle's sandals the beach shook, churning. A hissing flow of sands sank his feet to the calves. He jumped, staggering, to keep his footing. A shocked yell from Ereko snapped his head around. Traveller was gone. Kyle gaped at Ereko who stared at the empty sand.

‘No,’ the giant mouthed, appalled.

‘You fools!’ the giant roared at Jhest. ‘You have no idea who – what – you are interfering with!’

‘What may, or may not, happen far away in another land is of no interest to us,’ said the mage and he gestured. As one, weapons slid from the soldiers’ wooden and leather sheaths. Ereko sank to his knees, pressed his hands to the sands.

‘Get him on board,’ Stalker snarled, drawing his curved blade. Kyle grasped an arm, but he might as well have been pulling at a tree trunk. The giant dug at the yielding sand, yanking free of Kyle's grip.

‘You really did not think we would be so foolish as to cross swords with him, did you?’ Jhest said – his voice still as flat as when they exchanged pleasantries last night.

‘Oh, just kill the bastard, will you?’ Stalker said over his shoulder. Kyle ignored him, a hand at Ereko's arm.

‘We must go – please!’

The soldiers advanced, swinging, and the Lost cousins parried once, twice, holding their ground, ripostes gouging scatterings of the small stones to the sands.

Jhest's bland smile drew down and his smooth brow furrowed. ‘What is this?’ he murmured.

Ereko raised his head and Kyle was shocked by the rage roiling in his molten eyes. ‘You and your cabal have erred, Jhest. You should not have chosen D'riss. Any Warren but that. For you seem to have forgotten who, in truth, / am.’

‘You are Thel Akai, yes. An ancient race of this land – a useless remnant of a sad past.’

‘And who were we before we named ourselves, before any other sentient kind arose? Our forebears were the children of the earth!’

‘Kyle!’ A yell from Stalker. One of the soldiers had caught Badlands in a bearhug. The man stitched the armoured giant in thrusts of his long-knives but to no visible effect. Kyle darted forward, drawing. He swung at a shoulder and the tulwar slid through the stones with a grating screech. The arm hung half-dismembered, accompanied by a gout of black blood as thick as tar. Badlands fell to the sand and lay stunned. Kyle stared. He was so amazed that a ponderous attack from another of the armoured giants almost decapitated him. He ducked, swung two-handed at the leading leg and severed it at the knee. The soldier collapsed to lie flailing in the sands like an upturned beetle.

‘What? How is this?’ Jhest gaped his disbelief.

Kyle leapt to one of three soldiers Stalker had kept at bay, severing an arm at the elbow and crippling a leg on the backswing.

‘No!’ Jhest bellowed. ‘You are not of the Isture!’

Unhesitating, Kyle continued hacking the lumbering giants – none of whom uttered a sound or even flinched from their attack though it was obvious they were doomed. Once down, the brothers finished them off.

After the last, Kyle spun on Jhest. He was exhausted, his arms numb and tingling from the jarring impacts of swings that he'd had to give every ounce of his strength. The Jacuruku mage eyed him in turn. ‘You should not have been able to do that,’ he said flatly. ‘It is therefore the blade. Allow me to examine it.’

‘Allow me to kill him,’ Stalker said to Kyle, panting his own weariness.

‘Not yet.’ He crouched beside Ereko who still knelt on his hands and knees, his arms sunk to his elbows. ‘What should we do?’ he asked, pleading.

Ereko did not answer. His eyes were screwed shut, his teeth clenched, lips drawn back in a rictus of effort. ‘Almost,’ he hissed on a breath. ‘Almost…’

Jhest clapped his hands, barking an order. Stalker raised his sword. ‘Wait!’ Kyle yelled.

‘Why is this shit still alive?’ Stalker demanded.

‘Damn right,’ Badlands added.

‘Because we may need him.’

‘For what?’

‘To retrieve Traveller.’

Hesitating, Stalker slammed home his blade. ‘Damn the Dark Hunter!’

Jhest, however, appeared utterly unconcerned. His gaze was directed far off to the jungle-line beyond. A one-sided smile crooked up his thick lips. Kyle, a cold presentiment shivering his flesh, slowly turned following the mage's gaze.

‘Trouble,’ Coots said laconically, spitting.