Logen agreed with him, for once. It was a smell he knew well, and his lips curled back with hatred at it. 'Smells like fucking Flatheads.'
'Oh yes,' said Bayaz, 'the Shanka are the Maker's work also.'
'His work?'
'Indeed. He took clay, and metal, and left-over flesh and he made them.'
Logen stared. 'He made them?'
'To fight in his war. Against us. Against the Magi. Against his brother Juvens. He bred the first Shanka here and let them loose upon the world—to grow, and breed, and destroy. That was their purpose. For many years after Kanedias' death we hunted them, but we could not catch them all. We drove them into the darkest corners of the world, and there they have grown and bred again, and now come forth to grow, and breed, and destroy, as they were always meant to do.' Logen gawped at him.
- The Blade Itself, Part II, The House of the Maker