‘What if the war’s ended? What next, for the T’lan Imass?’ He considered, then slowly said, ‘A second Ritual of Gathering?’ ‘Mhmm …’ ‘An end? An end to the T’lan Imass? Hood’s breath!’ ‘And not a single spirit waiting to embrace all those weary, so very weary souls …’ An end, an end. Gods, she might be right. He stared at Tool’s fur-clad back, and was almost overcome with a sense of loss. Vast, ineffable loss. ‘You might be wrong, Lady.’
