Memories of Ice (Malazan Book of the Fallen, #3)

by Steven Erikson

The Seer stood before him, moving in desperate, jerky motions – the old man’s body, that the Jaghut had occupied for so long, was falling to pieces – and muttering a singsong chant as, ignoring Toc, he edged ever closer to the Matron, to Mother. The enormous beast cringed, claws scraping as it pushed itself against the wall. Its shrieks did not pause, resounding through the cavern. The Seer held something in his hands, pallid, smooth and oblong – an egg, not from a bird. A lizard’s egg, latticed in grey magic. Magic that waxed with every word of the Seer’s song. Toc watched as something exploded from the Matron’s body, a coruscation of power that sought to flee upward— —but was, instead, snared by the web of sorcery; snared, then drawn into the egg in the Seer’s hands.