The Complete Malazan Book of the Fallen

by Steven Erikson

Wandering among the dismembered corpses of five K’Chain Che’Malle hunters were hundreds of huge, gaunt wolves – with pitted eyes that were a match to those of the T’lan Imass. Studying the silent, terrifying creatures, Itkovian spoke to Pran Chole. ‘Are these … yours, sir?’ The Bonecaster at his side shrugged. ‘Gone from our company for a time. T’lan Ay often accompany us, but are not bound to us … beyond the Ritual itself.’ He was silent for a long moment, then continued, ‘We had thought them lost. But it seems that they too have heard the summons. Three thousand years since our eyes last rested upon the T’lan Ay.’ Itkovian finally looked down on the undead shaman. ‘Is that a hint of pleasure in your voice, Pran Chole?’ ‘Yes. And sorrow.’ ‘Why sorrow? From the looks of it, these T’lan Ay took not a single loss against these K’Chain Che’Malle. Four, five hundred … against five. Swift destruction.’ The Bonecaster nodded. ‘Their kind are skilled at defeating large beasts. My sorrow arises from a flawed mercy, mortal. At the First Gathering, our misplaced love for the ay – these few that remained – led us onto a cruel path. We chose to include them in the Ritual. Our selfish needs were a curse. All that made the flesh and blood ay honourable, proud creatures was taken away. Now, like us, they are husks, plagued by dead memories.’ ‘Even undead, they have majesty,’ Itkovian acknowledged. ‘As with you.’ ‘Majesty in the T’lan Ay, yes. Among the T’lan Imass? No, mortal. None.’ ‘We...