When she awoke it was dark. Cursing, Apsalar rose from the cot. 'How late is it?'
'She's awake!' The shade of Telorast hovered nearby, a smeared bodyshape in the gloom, its eyes dully glowing.
'Finally!' Curdle whispered from the window sill, where it crouched like a gargoyle, head twisted round to regard Apsalar still seated on the cot. 'It's two bells after the death of the sun! We want to explore!'
'Fine,' she said, standing. 'Follow me, then.'
'Where to?'
'Back to the Jen'rahb.'
'Oh, that miserable place.'
'I won't be there long.'
'Good.'
She collected her gloves, checked her weapons once more – a score of aches from knife pommels and scabbards attested that they remained strapped about her person – and headed for the window.
'Shall we use the causeway?'
Apsalar stopped, studied Curdle. 'What causeway?'
The ghost moved to hug one edge of the window and pointed outward. '
That one.'
A shadow manifestation, something like an aqueduct, stretched from the base of the window out over the alley and the building beyond, then curving – towards the heart of the Jen'rahb. It had the texture of stone, and she could see pebbles and pieces of crumbled mortar along the path. 'What is this?'
'We don't know.'
'It is from the Shadow Realm, isn't it? It has to be. Otherwise I would be unable to see it.'
'Oh yes. We think. Don't we, Telorast?'
'Absolutely. Or not.'
'How long,' Apsalar asked, 'has it been here?'
'Fifty-three of your heartbeats. You were stirring to wakefulness, right, Curdle? She was stirring.'
'And moaning. Well, one moan. Soft. A half-moan.'
'No,' Telorast said, 'that was me.'
Apsalar clambered up onto the sill, then, still gripping the edges of the wall, she stepped out onto the causeway. Solid beneath her feet. '
All right,' she muttered, more than a little shaken as she released her hold on the building behind her. 'We might as well make use of it.'
'We agree.'
They set out, over the alley, the tenement, a street and then the rubble of the ruins. In the distance rose ghostly towers. A city of shadow, but this one thoroughly unlike the one of the night before.
Vague structures lay over the wreckage below – canals, the glimmer of something like water. Lower bridges spanned these canals. A few thousand paces distant, to the southeast, rose a massive domed palace, and beyond it what might have been a lake, or a wide river. Ships plied those waters, square-sailed and sleek, the wood midnight black.
She saw tall figures crossing a bridge fifty paces away.
Telorast hissed. 'I recognize them!'
Apsalar crouched low, suddenly feeling terribly vulnerable here on this high walkway.
'Tiste Edur!'
'Yes,' she half-breathed.
'Oh, can they see us?'
I don't know. At least none walked the causeway they were on… not yet. 'Come on, it's not far. I want us away from this place.'
'Agreed, oh yes, agreed.'
Curdle hesitated. 'Then again…'
'No,' Apsalar said. 'Attempt nothing, ghost.'
'Oh all right. It's just that there's a body in the canal below.'
Damn this. She edged to the low wall and looked down. 'That's not Tiste Edur.'
'No,' Curdle confirmed. 'It most certainly isn't, Not Apsalar. It is like you, yes, like you. Only more bloated, not long dead – we want it-'
'Don't expect help if trying for it attracts attention.'
'Oh, she has a point, Curdle. Come on, she's moving away from us!
Wait! Don't leave us here!'
Reaching a steep staircase, Apsalar quickly descended. As soon as she stepped onto the pale dusty ground, the ghostly city vanished. In her wake the two shades appeared, sinking towards her.
'A most dreadful place,' Telorast said.
'But there was a throne,' Curdle cried. 'I sensed it! A most delicious throne!'
Telorast snorted. 'Delicious? You have lost your mind. Naught but pain. Suffering. Affliction-'
'Quiet,' Apsalar commanded. 'You will tell me more about this throne you two sensed, but later. Guard this entrance.'
'We can do that. We're very skilled guards. Someone died down there, yes? Can we have the body?'
'No. Stay here.' Apsalar entered the half-buried temple.