Midnight Tides - A Tale of the Malazan Book of the Fallen

By Steven Erikson

After many years of internecine conflict, the tribes of the Tiste Edur have ultimately united below the Warlock King of the Hiroth, there's peace--but it's been exacted at a negative fee: a pact made with a hidden strength whose explanations are at most sensible suspect, at worst deadly.

To the south, the expansionist nation of Lether, desirous to satisfy its long-prophesized renaissance as an Empire reborn, has enslaved all its less-civilized acquaintances with rapacious starvation. All, that's, store one--the Tiste Edur. And it needs to be just a subject of time sooner than they too fall--either underneath the suffocating weight of gold, or through slaughter on the fringe of a sword. Or so future has decreed.

Yet because the facets assemble for a pivotal treaty neither really wishes, historic forces are awakening. For the upcoming fight among those peoples is yet a light mirrored image of a much more profound, primal battle--a disagreement with the still-raw wound of an outdated betrayal and the yearning for revenge at its seething heart.

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We lie part through aspect, Udinaas, at the blood-soaked earth. subconscious. She wonders at our reluctance to come back. ’ ‘Reluctance? ’ ‘She unearths she struggles to heal our wounds—I am resisting her, for us either. ’ ‘Why? ’ ‘Because i'm stricken. Uruth senses not anything. Her strength feels natural to her. but it's . . . stained. ’ ‘I do not realize. You acknowledged Kurald Emurlahn—’ ‘Aye. however it has misplaced its purity. i don't know the way, or what, however it has replaced. between the entire Edur, it truly is replaced. ’ ‘What are we to do? ’ She sighed. ‘Return, now. Yield to her command. supply our gratitude for her intervention, for the therapeutic of our torn flesh. And in resolution to the numerous questions she has, we will say little. It used to be careworn. conflict with an unknown demon. Chaos. And of this dialog, Udinaas, we'll say not anything. Do you know? ’ ‘I do. ’ She reached down and he felt her hand shut approximately his—suddenly he was once entire as soon as more—and its heat flowed via him. He may possibly pay attention his middle now, thundering in solution to that contact. And one other middle, far-off but speedy ultimate, beating in time. however it was once no longer hers, and Udinaas knew terror. His mom stepped again, the knot of her forehead starting to unclench. ‘They approach,’ she acknowledged. Trull stared down on the slaves. Udinaas, from his personal loved ones. And the opposite, one in every of Mayen’s servants, the only they knew as Feather Witch for her divinatory powers. The blood nonetheless stained the puncture holes of their shirts, however the wounds themselves had closed. one other type of blood was once spilled throughout Udinaas’s chest, gold and glistening nonetheless. ‘I may still outlaw those castings,’ Hannan Mosag growled. ‘Permitting Letherii sorcery in our midst is a perilous indulgence. ’ ‘Yet there's price, excessive King,’ Uruth acknowledged, and Trull may see that she used to be nonetheless . ‘And that's, spouse of Tomad? ’ ‘A clarion name, excessive King, which we might do good to heed. ’ Hannan Mosag grimaced. ‘There is Wyval blood upon the man’s blouse. Is he contaminated? ’ ‘Possibly,’ Uruth conceded. ‘Much of that which passes for a soul in a Letherii is hid from my arts, excessive King. ’ ‘A failing that plagues us all, Uruth,’ the Warlock King stated, granting her nice honour through the use of her real identify. ‘This one needs to be saw in any respect times,’ he persevered, eyes on Udinaas. ‘If there's Wyval blood inside of him, the reality might be printed finally. To whom does he belong? ’ Tomad Sengar cleared his throat. ‘He is mine, Warlock King. ’ Hannan Mosag frowned, and Trull knew he used to be taking into account his dream, and of his choice to weave into its story the Sengar family members. there have been few coincidences on this planet. The Warlock King spoke in a more durable voice. ‘This Feather Witch, she is Mayen’s, certain? inform me, Uruth, may you feel her energy if you happen to healed her? ’ Trull’s mom shook her head. ‘Unimpressive. Or . . . ’ ‘Or what? ’ Uruth shrugged. ‘Or she concealed it good, regardless of her wounds. And if this is the case, then her energy surpasses mine. ’ most unlikely. She is Letherii. A slave and nonetheless a virgin. Hannan Mosag’s grunt conveyed comparable sentiments.

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