Gardens Of The Moon And Deadhouse Gates Part 4

The black lacquered carriage, drawn by two dun stallions, moved slowly through the press. A dozen feet ahead marched a brace of Baruk's own house guards, driving a wedge down the street's centre, using their wrapped weapons when shouts and curses failed.In the plush confines of the carriage the outside roar surged and ebbed like a distant tide, muted by the alchemist's sound-deadening spells. He sat with his chin lowered on his chest, his eyes hidden in the shadow of his brow and half-shut studying the Tiste Andii seated across from him. Rake had said nothing since his return to the estate just minutes before their planned departure.Baruk's head throbbed. Sorcery shook the hills to the east, sending waves of concussion that struck every mage within range like mailed fists. He well knew its source. The barrow dweller approached, its every step contested by Anomander Rake's Tiste Andii. It seemed that Mammot's prediction had been too generous. They didn't have days, they had hours.Yet, despite the warring Warrens, despite the fact that the Jaghut Tyrant's power was superior to Rake's mages' that the barrow dweller came on, relentless, unstoppable, a growing storm of Omtose Ph.e.l.lack sorcery the Lord of Moon's Sp.a.w.n sat at ease on the padded couch, legs stretched out before him and gloved hands folded in his lap. The mask lying on the velvet at his side was exquisite, if ghastly. In better times Baruk might have been amused, appreciative of its workmanship, but right now when he regarded it his lone response was suspicion. A secret was locked in that mask, something that bespoke the man who would wear it. But the secret eluded Baruk.

Turban Orr adjusted his hawk mask and paused just before the wide steps leading to the estate's main doors. He heard another carriage arrive at the gates and turned. From the doorway at his back came the shuffle of footsteps.Lady Simtal spoke behind him. 'I would rather you'd permitted one of my servants to inform me of your arrival, Councilman. Allow me the privilege of escorting you into the main chamber.' She slipped her arm through his.'A moment,' he muttered, eyes on the figure now emerging from the carriage. 'It's the alchemist's carriage,' he said, 'but that's hardly Baruk, now, is it?'Lady Simtal looked. 'Trake unleashed!' she gasped. 'Who would that be?''Baruk's guest,' Orr said drily.Her grip bit into his arm. 'I'm aware of his privilege, Councilman. Tell me, have you seen this one before?'The man shrugged. 'He's masked. How could I tell?''How many men do you know, Turban, who are seven feet tall and wear two-handed swords strapped to their backs?' She squinted. 'That white hair, do you think it's part of the mask?'The councilman did not reply. He watched as Baruk emerged behind the stranger. The alchemist's mask was a conservative silver-inlaid half-shield that no more than covered his eyes. An obvious statement denying duplicity. Turban Orr grunted, knowing well that his suspicions about the alchemist's influence and power were accurate. His eyes returned to the stranger. His mask was that of a black dragon, lacquered with fine silver-traced highlights; somehow the dragon's expression seemed ... sly.'Well?' Lady Simtal demanded. 'Are we going to linger out here all night? And where's your dear wife, anyway?''Ill,' he said distractedly. He smiled at her. 'Shall we introduce ourselves to the alchemist's guest? And have I complimented you yet on your attire?''You haven't,' she said.'A black panther suits you, Lady.''But of course it does,' she replied testily, as Baruk and his guest strode down the paved walk towards them. She disengaged her arm and stepped forward. 'Good evening, Alchemist Baruk. Welcome,' she added to the black-dragon-masked man. 'An astonishing presentation. Have we met?''Good evening, Lady Simtal,' Baruk said, bowing. 'Councilman Turban Orr. Permit me to introduce,' he hesitated, but the Tiste Andii had been firm on this, 'Lord Anomander Rake, a visitor to Darujhistan.' The alchemist waited to see if the councilman would recognize the name.Turban Orr bowed formally. 'On behalf of the City Council, welcome, Lord Anomander Rake.'Baruk sighed. Anomander Rake, a name known by poets and scholars, but not, it appeared, by councilmen.Orr continued, 'As a lord, I a.s.sume you hold t.i.tle to land?' He almost stepped back as the dragon's visage swung to regard him. Deep blue eyes fixed on his.'Land? Yes, Councilman, I hold t.i.tle. However, my t.i.tle is honorary, presented to me by my people.' Rake looked past Orr's shoulder to the room beyond the wide doorway. 'It seems, Lady, that the evening is well under way.''Indeed.' She laughed. 'Come, join in the festivities.'Baruk breathed another relieved sigh.

Murillio had to admit that Kruppe's choice of mask suited him perfectly. He found himself grinning behind his feather-decked peac.o.c.k mask in spite of his trepidation. He stood near the opened doorway leading out to the patio and garden, a goblet of light wine in one hand, the other hitched in his belt.Rallick leaned against the wall beside him, arms crossed. His mask was that of a Catlin tiger, idealized to mimic the G.o.d Trake's image. Murillio knew the a.s.sa.s.sin let the wall bear his weight out of exhaustion rather than from a lazy slouch. He wondered yet again if matters would fall to him. The a.s.sa.s.sin stiffened suddenly, eyes on the entrance across from them.Murillio craned to see past the crowd. There, the hawk. He murmured, 'That's Turban Orr all right. Who's he with?''Simtal,' Rallick growled. 'And Baruk, and some monster of a man wearing a dragon's mask and armed.''Baruk?' Murillio laughed nervously. 'Let's hope he doesn't recognize us. It wouldn't take him a second to put everything together.''It doesn't matter,' Rallick said. 'He won't stop us.''Maybe you're right.' Then Murillio almost dropped his gla.s.s. 'Hood's Weary Feet!'Rallick hissed between his teeth. 'Dammit! Look at him! He's heading straight for them!'

Lady Simtal and Turban Orr excused themselves, leaving Baruk and Rake momentarily alone in the middle of the chamber. People moved around them, some nodding deferentially at Baruk but all keeping their distance. A crowd gathered around Simtal where she stood at the foot of the winding staircase, eager with questions regarding Anomander Rake.A figure approached Baruk and his companion. Short, round, wearing a faded red waistcoat, both hands clutching pastries, the man wore a cherub's mask, its open red-lipped mouth smeared with cake icing and crumbs. His route to them met with one obstacle after another as he negotiated his way across the room, excusing himself at every turn and twist.Rake noticed the newcomer, for he said, 'Seems eager, doesn't he?'Baruk chuckled. 'He's worked for me,' he said. 'And I've worked for him as well. Anomander Rake, behold the one they call the Eel. Darujhistan's master-spy.''Do you jest?''No.'Kruppe arrived, his chest heaving. 'Master Baruk!' he said breathlessly. 'What a surprise to find you here.' The cherub face swung over and up to Rake. 'The hair is an exquisite touch, sir. Exquisite. I am named Kruppe, sir. Kruppe the First.' He raised a pastry to his mouth and jammed it in.'This is Lord Anomander Rake, Kruppe.'Kruppe nodded vigorously, then swallowed audibly. 'Of course! Why, then, you must be quite used to such a lofty stance, sir. Kruppe envies those who can look down upon everyone else.''It is easy to fool oneself,' Rake answered, 'into viewing those beneath one as small and insignificant. The risks of oversight, you might say.''Kruppe might well say, a.s.suming the pun was intended. But who would disagree that the dragon's lot is ever beyond the ken of mere humankind? Kruppe can only guess at the thrill of flight, the wail of high winds, the rabbits scurrying below as one's shadow brushes their limited awareness.''My dear Kruppe,' Baruk sighed, 'it is but a mask.''Such is the irony of life,' Kruppe proclaimed, raising one pastry-filled hand over his head, 'that one learns to distrust the obvious, surrendering instead to insidious suspicion and confused conclusion. But, lo, is Kruppe deceived? Can an eel swim? Hurrah, these seeming muddy waters are home to Kruppe, and his eyes are wide with wonder!' He bowed with a flourish, spattering bits of cake over Rake and Baruk, then marched off, still talking. 'A survey of the kitchen is in order, Kruppe suspects ...''An eel indeed,' Rake said, in an amused tone. 'He is a lesson to us all, is he not?'Agreed,' Baruk muttered, shoulders slumping. 'I need a drink. Let me get you one. Excuse me.'

Turban Orr stood with his back to the wall and surveyed the crowded room. He was finding it difficult to relax. The last week had been exhausting. He still awaited confirmation from the a.s.sa.s.sins' Guild that Coll was dead. It wasn't like them to take so long to complete a contract, and sticking a knife into a drunk shouldn't have been too difficult.His hunt for the spy in his organizations had reached a dead end, but he remained convinced that such a man or woman existed. Again and again, and especially since Lim's a.s.sa.s.sination, he'd found his moves in the Council blocked by countermoves, too unfocused for him to point a finger at any one person. But the proclamation was dead in the water.He'd come to that conclusion this morning. And he'd acted. Even now his most trusted and capable messenger rode the trader's track, probably pa.s.sing through the Gadrobi Hills and that thunderstorm at this very moment, on his way to Pale. To the Empire. Turban Orr knew the Malazans were on the way. No one in Darujhistan could stop them. And the Moon's lord had been defeated once, at Pale. Why would it be any different this time around? No, the time had come to ensure that his own position would survive the Empire's occupation. Or, better yet, an even higher rank to reward his vital support.His eyes fell casually on a guard stationed to one side of the spiral staircase. The man looked familiar somehow not his face, but the way he stood, the set of the shoulders. Was the man's usual station at Majesty Hall? No, the uniform was that of a regular, while Majesty Hall was the domain of the Elites. Turban Orr's frown deepened behind the hawk mask. Then the guard adjusted his helmet strap, and Turban Orr gasped. He leaned back against the wall, overcome by trembling. Despot's Barbican! All those nights, night after night for years that guard had witnessed his midnight meetings with his allies and agents. There stood his spy.He straightened, closing one hand over the pommel of his duelling sword. He'd leave no room for questions, and d.a.m.n Simtal's sensibilities and d.a.m.n this party. He wanted his vengeance to be swift and immediate. He'd let no one stop him. His eyes fixing on the unsuspecting guard, Turban Orr stepped forward.He collided with a hard shoulder and staggered back. A large man in a tiger mask turned to him. Orr waited for an apology, but received only silence. He moved to step past the man.The stranger's arm intercepted him. Turban Orr cursed as a gloved hand poured wine down his chest. 'Idiot!' he snapped. 'I am Councilman Turban Orr! Out of my way.''I know who you are,' the man said quietly.Orr jabbed a finger into the man's chest. 'Keep that mask on, so I'll know who to look for later.''I didn't even notice your mask,' the man said, his voice cold and flat. 'Fooled by the nose, I suppose.'The councilman's eyes narrowed. 'Eager to die, are you?' he grated. 'I will oblige you.' His hand twitched on his sword's pommel. 'In a few minutes. Right now I have-''I wait on no man,' Rallick Nom said. 'And certainly not for some thin-lipped prancer pretending to manhood. If you've the belly for a duel, make it now or stop wasting time with all this talk.'Shaking, Turban Orr took a step back and faced the man directly. 'What's your name?' he demanded hoa.r.s.ely.'You are not fit to hear it, Councilman.'Turban Orr raised his hands and whirled to the crowd. 'Hear me, guests! Unexpected entertainment for you all!' Conversation died and everyone faced the councilman. He continued, 'A fool has challenged my honour, friends. And since when has Turban Orr permitted such an insult?'A duel!' someone cried excitedly. Voices rose.Orr pointed at Rallick Nom. 'This man, so bold as to wear Trake's face, will be dead shortly. Look upon him now, friends, as he looks upon you and know that he is all but dead already.''Stop babbling,' Rallick drawled.The councilman pulled the mask from his face, revealing a tight grin. 'If I could kill you a thousand times,' he said, 'it would not be enough to satisfy me. I must settle with you but once.'Rallick removed his mask and tossed it on to the carpeted stairs. He looked upon Turban Orr with flat, dark eyes. 'Done breaking wind, Councilman?''Unmasked and still a stranger,' Orr said, scowling. 'So be it. Find yourself a second.' A thought struck him, and he turned back to the crowd, searching it. Towards the back he saw the mask he sought, that of a wolf. His choosing of a second could well have political benefits, a.s.suming the man accepted. And, in this crowd, he'd be a fool to deny Orr. 'For myself,' he said loudly, 'I would be honoured if Councilman Estraysian D'Arle act as my second.'The wolf started. Beside him stood two women, one no more than a girl. D'Arle's wife was dressed as a veiled woman of Callows, while the girl had selected outrageously the minimal garb of a Barghast warmaiden. Both wife and daughter spoke to Estraysian. He stepped forward. 'The honour is mine,' he rumbled, completing the ritual acceptance.Turban Orr felt a surge of triumph. To have his most powerful enemy in the Council at his side for this duel would send a message mixed enough to panic half the Council members present. Pleased at his coup, he faced his nameless opponent again. 'And your second?'Silence fell over the room.

'I haven't much time,' Lady Simtal said in a low voice. 'After all, as the hostess for this fete ...''It's your duty,' murmured the man before her, 'to satisfy your guests.' He reached forth and brushed the hair from her forehead. 'Which is something I'm certain you can do, and do well.'She smiled and walked to the door. She locked its latch, then spun to face the man again. 'Perhaps half an hour,' she said.The man strode to the bed and tossed down his leather gloves. 'I'm confident,' he said, 'that those thirty minutes will be satisfying indeed, each more than the last.'Lady Simtal joined him beside the bed. 'I suppose,' she whispered, as she slipped her arms around the man's neck and drew his face down to her lips, 'that you've no choice now but to tell the Widow Lim the sad news.' She touched her lips to his, then ran her tongue along the line of his jaw.'Mmm? What sad news is that?''Oh, that you've found yourself a more worthy lover, of course.' Her tongue reached into his ear. Abruptly she pulled back and met his eyes searchingly. 'Do you hear that?' she asked.He brought his arms around her and drew her closer. 'Hear what?''That's just it,' she said. 'It's suddenly quiet downstairs. I'd better-''They're in the garden, no doubt,' the man said rea.s.suringly. 'The minutes are pa.s.sing, Lady.'She hesitated, then made the mistake of letting him press his body against hers. Lady Simtal's eyes widened in near-alarm. Her breathing changed. 'So,' she gasped, 'what are we doing still dressed?''Good question,' Murillio growled, pulling both of them on to the bed.

In the silence following Turban Orr's question, Baruk found himself preparing to step forward. Knowing well what that would reveal, he felt compelled nevertheless. Rallick Nom was here to right a dreadful wrong. More, the man was a friend, closer to the alchemist than Kruppe or Murillio and, in spite of his profession, a man of integrity. And Turban Orr was Lady Simtal's last link to real power. If Rallick killed the man, she'd fall.Coil's return to the Council was something Baruk and his fellow T'orrud mages greatly desired. And Turban Orr's death would be a relief. More was riding on this duel than Rallick imagined. The alchemist adjusted his robe and drew a deep breath.A large hand closed on his upper arm and, before Baruk could react, Lord Anomander Rake stepped forward. 'I offer my services as second,' he said loudly. He met Rallick's eyes.The a.s.sa.s.sin betrayed nothing, not once looking at Baruk. He answered Rake's offer with a nod.'Perhaps,' Turban Orr sneered, 'the two strangers know each other.''We've never met,' Rake said. 'However, I find myself instinctively sharing his distaste for your endless talk, Councilman. Thus I seek to avoid a Council debate on who will be this man's second. Shall we proceed?'Turban Orr led the way out to the terrace, Estraysian D'Arle behind him. As Baruk turned to follow he felt a familiar contact of energies at his side. He swung his head and recoiled. 'Good G.o.ds, Mammot! Where did you get that hideous mask?'The old man's eyes held his briefly then shied away. 'An accurate rendition of Jaghut features, I believe,' he said softly. 'Though I think the tusks are a little short.'Baruk shook himself. 'Have you managed to find your nephew yet?''No,' Mammot replied. 'I am deeply worried by that.''Well,' the alchemist grunted as they walked outside, 'let's hope that Oponn's luck holds for the lad.''Of course,' Mammot murmured.

Whiskeyjack's eyes widened as a crowd of excited guests poured out from the main chamber and gathered on the terrace.Fiddler scurried to his side. 'It's a duel, Sergeant. The guy with the wine stain on his shirt is one of them, a councilman named Orr. n.o.body knows who the other man is. He's over there with that big man in the dragon mask.'The sergeant had been leaning, arms crossed, against one of the marble pillars encircling the fountain, but at seeing the tall dragon-masked figure he came near to toppling into the fountain behind him. 'Hood's b.a.l.l.s!' he cursed. 'Recognize that long silver hair, Fid?'The saboteur frowned.'Moon's Sp.a.w.n,' Whiskeyjack breathed. 'That's the mage, the Lord who stood on that portal and battled Tayschrenn.' He reeled off an impressive list of curses, then added, 'And he's not human.'Fiddler groaned. 'Tiste Andii. The b.a.s.t.a.r.d's found us. We've had it.''Shut up.' Whiskeyjack was recovering from his shock. 'Line everybody up the way that Captain Stillis wanted us. Backs to the woods and hands on weapons. Move!'Fiddler scrambled. The sergeant watched the saboteur round up his men. Where the h.e.l.l were Kalam and Paran anyway? He caught Quick Ben's eye and gestured the mage over.'Fid explained it,' Quick Ben said, leaning close. 'I may not be much use, Sergeant. That barrow-dweller's unleashing waves of nasty stuff. My head feels ready to explode.' He grinned wanly. 'And look around. You can pick out all the mages by the sick looks on their faces. If we all accessed our Warrens, we'd be fine.''Then why don't you?'The wizard grimaced. 'That Jaghut would fix on us as if we were a beacon of fire. And he'd take the weaker ones even from this distance, he'd take them. And then there'd be h.e.l.l to pay.'Whiskeyjack watched the guests create a s.p.a.ce on the terrace, lining up on either side. 'Check with Hedge and Fiddler,' he ordered, eyes lingering on the Tiste Andii. 'Make sure they've got something handy, in case it all comes apart. This estate's got to burn then, hot and long. We'll need the diversion to set off the intersection mines. Give me the nod telling me they're up to it.''Right.' Quick Ben moved off.Whiskeyjack grunted in surprise as a young man stepped round him, dressed as a thief, complete with face mask.'Excuse me,' the man muttered, as he walked into the crowd.The sergeant stared after him, then glanced back at the garden. How the h.e.l.l had that lad got past them in the first place? He could've sworn they'd sealed off the woods. He loosened his sword surrept.i.tiously in its sheath.

Crokus had no idea what kind of costume Challice D'Arle would be wearing, and he was resigned to a long hunt. He'd left Apsalar at the garden's back wall, and now felt guilty. Still, she'd seemed to take it well though in a way that made him feel even worse. Why did she have to be so nice about things?He spared barely a thought about the crowd's strange formation, looking as he was for a head somewhere at chest level to everyone else. As it turned out, that proved unnecessary, for Challice D'Arle's costume was no disguise.Crokus found himself between two burly house guards. Across from him, twenty feet away with no one to block his view, stood Challice and an older woman Crokus took to be her mother. Their attention was held unerringly on a tall, severe-looking man standing at one end of the cleared s.p.a.ce and speaking with another man, who was strapping on a duelling glove. It slowly dawned on the thief that a duel was but moments away.Squeezing between the two guards, Crokus craned his neck to find the other duellist. At first he thought him the giant with the dragon mask and two-handed sword. Then his gaze found the man. Rallick Nom. His eyes snapped back to the first duellist. Familiar. He nudged the guard on his left. 'Is that Councilman Turban Orr?''It is, sir,' the guard replied, an odd tightness in his tone.Crokus glanced up to see the man's face wet with sweat, trickling down from under his peaked helmet. Strange. 'So, where's Lady Simtal?' he asked casually.'Nowhere in sight,' the guard answered, with obvious relief. 'Otherwise she'd stop this.'Crokus nodded at that. 'Well,' he said, 'Rallick will win.'The guard's gaze was on him, the eyes hard and piercing. 'You know the man?''Well-'Someone tapped his back and he turned to find a cherub's face smiling mindlessly at him. 'Why, Crokus lad! What an inventive costume you're wearing!''Kruppe?''Well guessed!' Kruppe replied. The painted wooden face swung to the guard. 'Oh, kind sir, I have a written message for you.' Kruppe placed a scroll into the man's hand. 'Compliments of a long-time secret admirer.'Crokus grinned. These guards had all the luck when it came to n.o.ble ladies.Circle Breaker accepted the scroll and slid from it the silk tie.More than once he had sensed Turban Orr's eyes on him. First in the central chamber, when it looked as if the councilman might accost him directly, and now, while others argued over who should referee the duel.Circle Breaker prayed Rallick would kill Turban Orr. He felt his own fear racing through his body, and it was with trembling hands that he read the Eel's message.The time has come for Circle Breaker to retire from active duty. The circle is mended, loyal friend. Though you have never seen the Eel, you have been his most trusted hand, and you have earned your rest. Think not that the Eel simply discards you now. Such is not the Eel's way. The sigil at the bottom of this parchment will provide you pa.s.sage to the city of Dhavran, where loyal servants of the Eel have prepared your arrival by purchasing an estate and a legitimate t.i.tle on your behalf. You enter a different world soon, with its own games.Trust your new servants, friend, in this and all other concerns.Proceed, this very night, to the Dhavran trader's pier in Lakefront. You seek the river longboat named Enskalader. Show the sigil to any crewman aboard all are servants servants of the Eel. The time has come, Circle Breaker. The circle is mended. Fare you well. of the Eel. The time has come, Circle Breaker. The circle is mended. Fare you well.

Baruk threw up his hands in exasperation. 'Enough of this!' he bellowed. 'I will referee this duel, and accept all responsibility. Judgement of victory is mine. Accepted by both parties?'Turban Orr nodded. Even better than Estraysian being his second. Baruk's proclaiming him victor in the duel would be a coup in its own right. 'I accept.''As do I,' Rallick said, his short cloak drawn about his body.A sudden wind thrashed the treetops in the garden, sweeping down from the east. Thunder boomed from this side of the hills. A number of onlookers seemed to flinch. Turban On-grinned, stepping into the cleared area. Leaves skirled past, clattering like tiny bones. 'Before it rains,' he said.His allies in the crowd laughed at this. 'Of course,' Orr continued, 'it might prove more entertaining to draw things out. A wound here, a wound there. Shall I cut him to pieces slowly?' He feigned dismay at the chorus of eager a.s.sent. 'Too eager for blood, friends! Must the ladies dance on slick flagstones once darkness falls? We must consider our host ...' And where was was Simtal? His imagination conjured an image in answer and he frowned. 'No indeed,' he said coldly, 'it shall be quick.' Simtal? His imagination conjured an image in answer and he frowned. 'No indeed,' he said coldly, 'it shall be quick.'The councilman unsheathed his sword and fastened his glove's leather straps to the ornate grip behind the bell guard. He scanned the faces of his audience, even now seeking some betrayal of expression he had friends who were enemies, enemies who would be friends, the game would continue beyond this moment, but it could prove a telling moment. He would recall every face later, and study it at his leisure.Turban Orr a.s.sumed his stance. His opponent stood ten feet away, both hands hidden beneath his cloak. He looked at ease, almost bored. 'What's this?' Orr demanded. 'Where is your weapon?''I'm ready,' Rallick replied.Baruk placed himself equidistant between the two duellists, slightly off to one side. His face was pale, as if he had fallen ill. 'Comments from the seconds?' he asked faintly.Rake made no reply.Estraysian D'Arle cleared his throat. 'I hereby make it known that I oppose this duel as facile and trite.' He stared at Turban Orr. 'I find the councilman's life irrelevant in the best of times. Should he die,' the tall man looked over to Rallick, 'there will be no vengeance pact from the House of D'Arle. You, sir, are freed of that.'Rallick bowed.Turban Orr's smile tightened. The b.a.s.t.a.r.d would pay for that, he vowed. He lowered himself into a crouch, ready to launch an attack as soon as the duel began.Baruk said, 'You have been heard, Estraysian D'Arle.' The alchemist raised a handkerchief before him, then released it.Turban Orr jumped forward and lunged in a single, fluid motion, so fast he'd fully extended his weapon before the handkerchief struck the paving stones. He saw his opponent's left hand dart under his blade, then twist up and outward, a short, curved knife flashing in its grip. The parry was a blur, yet Orr caught it and deftly disengaged, driving his point low and towards the man's mid-section. He had no time even to notice the second knife, as Rallick turned his body sideways, the blade in his right hand guiding Turban Orr's sword past him. The a.s.sa.s.sin stepped in then, his left hand moving in a high swing that buried its blade in the councilman's neck. Rallick followed this by driving his other knife into Orr's chest.The councilman staggered to one side, his sword clanging on the stones as he clutched at the gushing wound in his neck. The motion was reflex, for he was already dead from the wound in his heart. He toppled.Rallick stepped back, weapons once again hidden beneath his cloak. 'A thousand other deaths,' he whispered, so low that only Baruk and Rake heard him, 'would not have satisfied me. But I'll settle for this one.'Baruk stepped close and made to speak, but then, at a gesture from Rake, he turned to see Estraysian D'Arle approaching.The councilman's heavy eyes held Rallick. 'I might suspect,' he said, 'given your style, that we have witnessed an a.s.sa.s.sination. Of course, not even the Guild of a.s.sa.s.sins is brash enough to commit public murder. Therefore I've no choice but to keep such suspicions to myself. And leave it at that. Good evening, gentlemen.' He whirled and strode away.'I think,' Rake said, his masked face swinging to the a.s.sa.s.sin, 'that that was a rather uneven match.'A rush of people closed in around Turban Orr's body. Voices shouted in dismay.Baruk studied the cool satisfaction on Rallick's face. 'It's done, Rallick. Go home.'A large, rounded woman in a bright green, gold-trimmed robe joined them. Unmasked, she smiled broadly at Baruk. 'Greetings,' she said. 'Interesting times, yes?' A personal servant stood at her side, bearing a padded tray on which squatted a water-pipe.Rallick stepped back with a slight bow, then left.Baruk sighed. 'Greetings, Derudan. Permit me to introduce Lord Anomander Rake. Lord, the witch Derudan.''Forgive the mask,' Rake said to her. 'It is best that it remain on, however.'Smoke streamed down from Derudan's nose. 'My compatriots share my growing unease, yes? We feel the approaching storm, and while Baruk continues to rea.s.sure us, still the misgivings, yes?''Should it prove necessary,' Rake said, 'I will attend to the matter personally. I do not believe, however, that our greatest threat is the one beyond the city's walls. A suspicion, Witch, no more.''I think,' Baruk said tentatively, 'that we would like to hear these suspicions of yours, Rake.'The Tiste Andii hesitated, then shook his head. 'Unwise. The matter is presently too sensitive to be broached. I shall remain here for now, however.'Derudan waved dismissively at Baruk's angry growl. 'True, the T'orrud Cabal is unused to feeling helpless, yes? True also, dangers abound, and any might prove a feint, a diversion, yes? Cunning is the Empress. For myself, I affirm the trust between us, Lord.' She smiled at Baruk. 'We must speak, you and I, Alchemist,' she said, linking arms with him.Rake bowed to the woman. 'A pleasure meeting you, Witch.' He watched the witch and the alchemist walk away, the servant scurrying at Derudan's heel.

Kruppe intercepted a servant burdened with delicious-looking savouries. Taking two handfuls at random, he turned back to resume his conversation with Crokus. He stopped. The lad was nowhere in sight.The crowd milled about on the terrace, some upset although the majority appeared simply confused. Where was Lady Simtal? they asked. Some, grinning, changed the question to: Who's she with? Already a new wave of antic.i.p.ation rose among the n.o.bles. They circled like vultures, waiting for their faltering hostess.Smiling beatifically behind the cherub mask, Kruppe raised his eyes slowly to the balcony overlooking the patio, in time to see a figure appear as a dark, feminine silhouette behind the shutters. He licked sticky sugar from his fingers, smacking his lips. 'There are times, Kruppe murmurs, when celibacy born of sad deprivation becomes a boon, nay, a source of great relief. Dear Murillio, prepare for a storm.'

Simtal pushed apart two slats of the shutters and looked down. 'You were right,' she said. 'They have indeed retired to the terrace. Odd, with that storm coming. I should get dressed.' She returned to the bed and began to collect her clothing, which lay scattered all around it. 'And what about you, Murillio?' she asked. 'Don't you think your companion below is wondering where you are, dear lover?'Murillio swung his legs over the bedside and pulled on his tights. 'I think not,' he said.Simtal shot him a curious look. 'Who did you come with?''Just a friend,' he answered, b.u.t.toning his shirt. 'I doubt you'd recognize the name.'At that moment the door's lock snapped and the door itself slammed inward.Dressed only in her underclothes, Simtal loosed a startled cry. Her eyes flashed at the tall, cloaked man standing in the doorway. 'How dare you enter my bedroom? Leave at once, or I'll call-''Both guards patrolling this hallway have departed, Lady,' Rallick Nom said, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him. The a.s.sa.s.sin glanced at Murillio. 'Get dressed,' he snapped.'Departed?' Simtal moved to place the bed between herself and Rallick.'Their loyalty has been purchased,' the a.s.sa.s.sin said. 'The lesson shouldn't be lost on you.''I need only scream and others will come.''But you haven't,' Rallick grinned, 'because you're curious.''You don't dare harm me,' Simtal said, straightening. 'Turban Orr will hunt you down.'The a.s.sa.s.sin took another step forward. 'I'm here only to talk, Lady Simtal,' he said. 'You won't be harmed, no matter what you deserve.''Deserve? I've done nothing I don't even know you.''Neither did Councilman Lim,' Rallick said quietly. 'And tonight the same could be said for Turban Orr. Both men paid for their ignorance, alas. Fortunate that you missed the duel, Lady. It was unpleasant, but necessary.' His eyes hardened on the pale woman. 'Allow me to explain. Turban Orr's offer of contract to the a.s.sa.s.sins' Guild is now officially cancelled. Coll lives, and now his return to this house is a.s.sured. You're done with, Lady Simtal. Turban Orr is dead.'He turned and walked from the room, closing the door behind him.Murillio rose slowly. He looked into Simtal's eyes, seeing there a growing terror. Undermined by the stripping away of her links to power, her once secure defences collapsed. He watched as she seemed physically to contract, her shoulders drawing inward, her hands clasped at her stomach, knees bending. Then he could look no longer. The Lady Simtal was gone, and he dared not study too closely the creature in her place.He unsheathed his ornamental dagger and tossed it on the bed. Without another word or gesture, he left the room, knowing with certainty that he would have been the last man to see her alive.Out in the hallway he paused. 'Mowri,' he said softly. 'I'm not cut out for this.' Planning to reach this point was one thing; having now reached it was another. He hadn't considered how he'd feel. Justice got in the way of that, a white fire he'd had no reason to look behind, or push aside. Justice had seduced him and he wondered what he had just lost, he wondered at the death he felt spreading within him. The regret following in that death's wake, so unanswerable it was, threatened to overwhelm him. 'Mowri,' he whispered a second time, as close to praying as he'd ever been, 'I think I'm now lost. Am I lost?'

Crokus edged round a marble pillar, his eyes on the rather short Barghast warmaiden sitting on the fountain's rim. d.a.m.n those guards at the wood's edge, anyway. He was a thief, wasn't he? Besides, they all looked pretty distracted.He waited for his opportunity, and when it came he darted for the shadows between the first line of trees. No shout of alarm or call to halt sounded behind him. Slipping into the darkness, Crokus turned and crouched. Yes, she still sat there, facing in his direction.He drew a deep breath, then stood straight, a pebble in one hand. Eyeing the guards, he waited. Half a minute later he found his chance. He stepped forward and flung the pebble into the fountain.Challice D'Arle jumped, then looked round as she wiped droplets of water from her painted face.His heart sank as her gaze pa.s.sed over him, then her head whipped back.Crokus gestured desperately. This was it, this was when he'd find out where she stood as far as he was concerned. He held his breath and gestured again.With a backward glance towards the patio, Challice rose and ran to him.As she came close she squinted at him. 'Gorlas? Is that you? I've been waiting all night!'Crokus froze. Then, without thinking, he lunged forward and clasped a hand over her mouth, his other arm encircling her waist. Challice squealed, trying to bite his palm, and struggled against him, but he dragged her into the darkness of the garden. Now what? he wondered.

Circle Breaker leaned against the marble pillar just inside the estate's main chamber. Behind him guests milled around Turban Orr's body, arguing loudly and voicing empty threats. The air hung heavy over the garden, smelling of blood.He wiped at his eyes, trying to calm his heart. It's over. Queen of Dreams, I'm done. 1 can rest now. Finally rest. over. Queen of Dreams, I'm done. 1 can rest now. Finally rest. He straightened slowly, taking a deep breath, adjusted his sword belt and glanced around. Captain Stillis was nowhere in sight, and the chamber was almost empty except for a knot of servants outside the kitchen entrance. Lady Simtal was still missing, and confusion now seeped into the void of her absence. He straightened slowly, taking a deep breath, adjusted his sword belt and glanced around. Captain Stillis was nowhere in sight, and the chamber was almost empty except for a knot of servants outside the kitchen entrance. Lady Simtal was still missing, and confusion now seeped into the void of her absence.Circle Breaker looked one last time at the guests in the garden, then he made his way to the doors. As he pa.s.sed a long table on which sat the remnants of pastries and puddings, he heard faint snoring. Another step forward brought him to the table's end and into view the small round man seated in a plush antique chair. The smeared cherub mask hid the man's face, but Circle Breaker could see the closed eyes, and the nasal drone that matched the rise and fall of his chest was loud and steady.The guardsman hesitated. Then, shaking his head, he moved on. Beyond the gates now within sight waited the streets of Darujhistan, and freedom. Now that he'd begun his first steps on that path, he would let nothing deter him.I've done my part. Just another nameless stranger who couldn't run from the face of tyranny. Dear Hood, take the man's shrivelled soul his dreams are over, ended by an a.s.sa.s.sin's whim. As for my own soul, well, you shall have to wait a while longer.He pa.s.sed through the gates, welcoming at last the smile that came unbidden to his mouth.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Ravens! Great Ravens!.

Your d.a.m.ning cawls deride histories sweeping beneath your blackened wings Shatter the day O flags of night, rend with shadows this innocent lightRavens! Great Ravens!

Your drumming clouds arrive swoop'd sudden sheer, hissing travails from no place t' the other Shatter the day, O flags of night, rend with shadows this innocent lightRavens! Great Ravens!

Your beaks clatter open disgorging the sweat of straining dismay the clack of bones promised this day I've seen the sheen of your eyes the laughter that rimes the living your pa.s.sing but an illusion we stop, we stare we curse your cold winds in knowing your flight's path wheeling you round us again, oh, for ever again!Ravens Collitt (b.978) Raest had driven two of the black dragons from the battle. The remaining two now circled high overhead while Silanah Redwings sped down and out of sight beyond the hill. She was hurting, the Jaghut Tyrant knew, the power of her immense lifeforce bleeding away.'And now,' he said, through tattered lips, 'she will die.' Raest's flesh had been torn away, ravaged by the virulent power of the dragons, power that burst from their jaws like breath of fire. His brittle, yellowed bones were splintered, crushed and shattered. All that kept him upright and moving was his Omtose Ph.e.l.lack Warren.Once the Finnest was in his hands, he would make his body anew, filling it with the vigour of health. And he was near his goal. One last ridge of hills and the city's walls would be visible, its fortifications all that stood between Raest and his greater powers.The battle had laid waste to the hills, incinerating everything in the deadly clash of Warrens. And Raest had driven back the dragons. He'd listened to their cries of pain. Laughing, he'd flung dense clouds of earth and stone skyward to blind them. He ignited the air in the path of their flight. He filled clouds with fire. It was, he felt, good to be alive again.As he walked, he continued to devastate the land around him. A single jerk of his head had shattered a stone bridge spanning a wide, shallow river. There had been a guardhouse there, and soldiers with iron weapons odd creatures, taller than Ima.s.s, yet he sensed that they could be easily enslaved. These particular men, however, he destroyed lest they distract him in his battle with the dragons. He'd met another man, similarly clad and riding a horse. He killed both man and beast, irritated at their intrusion.Wreathed in the crackling fire of his sorcery, Raest ascended the side of the hill behind which Silanah had disappeared minutes earlier. Antic.i.p.ating another ambush, the Jaghut Tyrant gathered his power, fists clenching. Yet he reached the crest unmolested. Had she fled? He craned skyward. No, the two black dragons remained, and between them a Great Raven.Raest crossed the hill's summit and stopped when the valley beyond came into view. Silanah waited there, her red pebbled skin streaked with black, wet burns across her heaving chest. Wings folded, she watched him from her position at the base of the valley, where a stream wound a tortured cut through the earth, its jagged path choked with bramble.The Jaghut Tyrant laughed harshly. Here she would die. The far side of the valley was a low ridge, and beyond, glowing in the darkness, was the city that held his Finnest. Raest paused at seeing it. Even the great Jaghut cities of the early times were dwarfed by comparison. And what of its strange blue and green light, fighting the darkness with such steady, unfaltering determination?There were mysteries here. He was eager to discover them. 'Silanah!' he cried. 'Eleint! 'Eleint! I give you your life! Flee now, Silanah. I show mercy but once. Hear me, I give you your life! Flee now, Silanah. I show mercy but once. Hear me, eleint!' eleint!'The red dragon regarded him steadily, her multi-faceted eyes glowing like beacons. She did not move, nor did she reply.Raest strode towards her, surprised to find her Warren gone. Was this surrender, then? He laughed a second time.As he neared, the sky above him changed, filling with a sourceless mercurial glow. The city beyond vanished, replaced by wind-whipped mudflats. The distant jagged line of mountains loomed ma.s.sive, uncarved by rivers of ice, bright and savage with youth. Raest's steps slowed. This is an Elder vision, a vision before even the Jaghut. Who has lured me here? is an Elder vision, a vision before even the Jaghut. Who has lured me here?'Oh, my, oh, my ...'The Tyrant's gaze snapped down to find a mortal standing before him. Raest c.o.c.ked a withered brow at the man's peculiar clothing, the coat tattered and faded red with large, food-stained cuffs, the baggy shimmering pantaloons dyed an astonishing pink, and the broad black leather boots covering his small feet. The man withdrew a cloth and patted the sweat from his brow. 'Dear sir,' he wheezed, 'you've not aged well at all!''There is Ima.s.s within you,' Raest rasped. 'Even the language you speak echoes their guttural throats. Have you come forth to grovel at my feet? Are you my first acolyte, then, eager for my rewards?''Alas,' the man replied, 'you are mistaken, sir. Kruppe this humble, weak mortal who stands before you bows to no man, be he Jaghut or G.o.d. Such are the nuances of this new age that you are felled by indifference, made insignificant in your mighty struggles by lowly Kruppe into whose dream you have ign.o.bly stumbled. Kruppe stands before you so that you may gaze upon his benign countenance in the last moments before your demise. Magnanimous of Kruppe, all things considered.'Raest laughed. 'I have walked in the dreams of mortals before. You believe you are the master here, but you are mistaken.' The Tyrant's hand shot out, virulent power erupting from it. The sorcery engulfed Kruppe, blazing darkly, then faded, leaving not even a remnant of the man.A voice spoke to Raest's left: 'Rude, Kruppe proclaims. Disappointing, this precipitateness.'The Jaghut swung around, eyes narrowing. 'What game is this?'The man smiled. 'Why, Kruppe's game, of course.'A sound behind Raest alerted him, but too late. He spun even as a ma.s.sive flint sword crunched through his left shoulder, tearing a path that snapped ribs, sliced through sternum and spine. The blow dragged the Tyrant down and to one side. Raest sprawled, pieces of his body striking the ground around him. He stared up at the T'lan Ima.s.s.Kruppe's shadow moved over Raest's face and the Tyrant met the mortal man's watery eyes.'He is Clanless, of course. Unbound and beyond binding, yet the ancient call commands him still to his dismay. Imagine his surprise at being found out. Onos T'oolan, Sword of the First Empire, is once more called upon by the blood that once warmed his limbs, his heart, his life of so very long ago.'The T'lan Ima.s.s spoke. 'You have strange dreams, mortal.''Kruppe possesses many surprises, even unto himself.''I sense,' Onos T'oolan continued, 'a Bone Caster's hand in this summoning.''Indeed. Pran Chole of Kig Aven's clan of the Kron T'lan Ima.s.s, I believe he called himself.'Raest raised himself from the ground, drawing his sorcery around his body to hold its shattered parts in place. 'No T'lan Ima.s.s can withstand me,' he hissed.'A dubious claim,' Kruppe said. 'Even so, he is joined in this endeavour.'The Jaghut Tyrant straightened to see a tall, black-shrouded figure emerge from the streambed. He c.o.c.ked his head as the apparition approached. 'You remind me of Hood. Is the Death Wanderer still alive?' He scowled. 'But, no. I sense nothing from you. You do not exist.''Perhaps,' the figure replied, in a deep, soft tone that hinted of regret. 'If so,' he continued, 'then neither do you. We are both of the past, Jaghut.' The figure halted fifteen feet away from Raest and swung his hooded head in the dragon's direction. 'Her master awaits your arrival, Jaghut, but he waits in vain and for this you should thank us. He would deliver a kind of death from which there is no escape, even by such a creature as you.' The head turned, and the darkness within the hood once again regarded the Tyrant. 'Here, within a mortal's dream, we bring an end to your existence.'Raest grunted. 'In this age there are none who can defeat me.'The figure laughed, a low rumble. 'You are a fool, Raest. In this age even a mortal can kill you. The tide of enslavement has reversed itself. It is now we G.o.ds who are the slaves, and the mortals our masters though they know it not.''You are a G.o.d, then?' Raest's scowl deepened. 'You are a child to me if so.''I was once a G.o.d,' the figure replied. 'Worshipped as K'rul, and my aspect was the Obilisk. I am the Maker of Paths do you find significance in that ancient t.i.tle?'Raest took a step back, raising his desiccated hands. 'Impossible,' he breathed. 'You pa.s.sed into the Realms of Chaos returned to the place of your birth you are among us no more-''As I said, things have changed,' K'rul said quietly. 'You have a choice, Raest. Onos T'oolan can destroy you. You have no understanding of what his t.i.tle of Sword signifies he is without equal in this world. You can fall ign.o.bly beneath the blade of an Ima.s.s, or you can accompany me for in one thing we are the same, you and I. Our time has pa.s.sed, and the Gates of Chaos await us. What choice do you make?''I make neither, Eldering One.' With a soft, hollow laugh, Raest's battered, withered body collapsed.K'rul c.o.c.ked his head. 'He's found another body.' Kruppe pulled out his handkerchief. 'Oh, my,' he said.Kalam gestured sharply and Paran ducked down. The captain's mouth was dry. There was something very wrong with this garden. He wondered if it was simply the exhaustion he felt. The garden's air itself rubbed his senses raw. He thought he could see the darkness pulse, and the smell of decay had thickened to a stench.

Kalam reached for his knives. Paran tensed, unable to see anything beyond the a.s.sa.s.sin. Too many trees, not enough light. Somewhere ahead flickered gas-lamps, and people were gathered on the terrace. But civilization seemed a thousand leagues away. Here, the captain felt as if he was within a primordial presence, breathing slowly and heavily on all sides.Kalam gestured that Paran remain where he was, then slipped into the shadows to their right. Crouching low, the captain edged forward to where the a.s.sa.s.sin had been standing moments earlier. There looked to be a glade, or clearing, just ahead. He couldn't be certain, however, nor could he see anything amiss. Yet his feeling of wrongness now ached in his skull. He took another step. Something occupied the glade's centre, blockish, like a dressed stone, or an altar, and before it stood a small woman, almost wraith-like in the darkness. Her back was to Paran.One moment she stood alone, the next Kalam rose behind her, knives glimmering in his hands. He drew back his arms.The woman moved in a blur, one elbow driving backwards into the a.s.sa.s.sin's stomach. She twisted round and drove her knee into the man's crotch. A shout burst from Kalam as he reeled back a step, then fell to the ground with a heavy thump.Paran's sword was in his hand. He dashed into the clearing.The woman saw him and voiced a surprised, frightened yelp. 'No!' she cried. 'Please!'The captain stopped at that girlish voice. Kalam sat up. He groaned, then said, 'Dammit, Sorry. Wasn't expecting you. We figured you were dead, girl.'The woman eyed Paran warily as he approached cautiously. 'I should know you, shouldn't I?' she asked Kalam. Then, as Paran came closer, she raised a frightened hand between them and stepped back. 'I I killed you!' With a soft moan she fell to her knees. 'Your blood was on my hands. I remember it!'A fire of rage flared in Paran. He raised his sword and moved to stand over her.'Wait!' Kalam hissed. 'Wait, Captain. Something's not right here.'With great difficulty, the a.s.sa.s.sin climbed to his feet, then prepared to sit down on the stone block.'Don't!' the girl gasped. 'Can't you feel it?''I can,' Paran growled. He lowered his weapon. 'Don't touch that thing, Corporal.'Kalam stepped away. 'Thought it was just me,' he muttered.'It's not stone at all,' the woman said, her face free of the anguish that had twisted it a moment before. 'It's wood.' She rose and faced Kalam. 'And it's growing.'A suspicion came to Paran. 'Girl, do you remember me? Do you know who I am?'She frowned at him, then shook her head. 'I know Kalam,' she said. 'He's an old friend, I think.'The a.s.sa.s.sin choked on something, then coughed loudly, wagging his head.The woman pointed at the wooden block. 'See? It's growing again.'Both men looked. A haze blurred the block's edges, swelling and shifting, then vanished, yet it was clear to Paran that the thing was now bigger.'It has roots,' the woman added.Paran shook himself. 'Corporal? Remain here with the girl. I won't be long.' He sheathed his sword and left the glade. After winding through the undergrowth for a minute, he came to its edge and looked out on a terrace crowded with guests. A low-walled fountain rose from the paving stones to his left, encircled by marble pillars s.p.a.ced about a yard apart.The captain saw that Whiskeyjack and the squad had arrayed themselves in a rough line a dozen feet from the garden's edge, facing the terrace. They looked tense. Paran found a dead branch and snapped it in half.At the sound all six men turned. The captain pointed at Whiskeyjack and Mallet, then stepped back between the trees. The sergeant whispered something to Quick Ben. Then he collected the healer and they came over.Paran pulled Whiskeyjack close. 'Kalam's found Sorry, and something else besides,' he said. 'The girl's not all there, Sergeant, and I don't think it's an act. One minute she remembers killing me, the next she doesn't. And she's got it into her head right now that Kalam's an old friend.'Mallet grunted.After a brief glance back at the party, Whiskeyjack asked, 'So what's this "something else"?''I'm not sure, but it's ugly.''All right.' The sergeant sighed. 'Go with the captain, Mallet. Take a look at Sorry. Any contact from the a.s.sa.s.sins' Guild yet?' he asked Paran.'No.''Then we move soon,' Whiskeyjack said. 'We let Fiddler and Hedge loose. Bring Kalam when you come back, Mallet. We need to talk.'

Rallick found his path un.o.bstructed as he moved across the central chamber towards the front doors. Faces turned to him and conversations fell away, rising again as he pa.s.sed. A bone-deep weariness gripped the a.s.sa.s.sin, more than could be accounted for by the blood lost to a wound already healed. The malaise gripping him was emotional.He paused at seeing Kruppe rising from a chair, mask dangling from one plump hand. The man's face was sheathed in sweat and there was fear in his eyes.'You've a right to be terrified,' Rallick said, approaching him. 'If I'd known you'd be here-''Silence!' Kruppe snapped. 'Kruppe must think!'The a.s.sa.s.sin scowled but said nothing. He'd never before seen Kruppe without his usual affable facade, and the sight of him so perturbed made Rallick profoundly uneasy.'Be on your way, friend,' Kruppe said then, his voice sounding strange. 'Your destiny awaits you. More, it seems this new world is well prepared for one such as Raest, no matter what flesh he wears.'Rallick's scowl deepened. The man sounds drunk. The man sounds drunk. He sighed, then turned away, his mind returning once again to what had been achieved this night. He continued on his way, leaving Kruppe behind. What now? he wondered. So much had gone into reaching this moment. The sharp focus of his thoughts seemed dulled now by success. Never the crusader, Rallick's obsession to right the wrong had been, in a sense, no more than the a.s.sa.s.sin a.s.suming the role Coll himself should have taken. He'd played the instrument of Coil's will, relying on a faith that the man's own will would return. He sighed, then turned away, his mind returning once again to what had been achieved this night. He continued on his way, leaving Kruppe behind. What now? he wondered. So much had gone into reaching this moment. The sharp focus of his thoughts seemed dulled now by success. Never the crusader, Rallick's obsession to right the wrong had been, in a sense, no more than the a.s.sa.s.sin a.s.suming the role Coll himself should have taken. He'd played the instrument of Coil's will, relying on a faith that the man's own will would return.And if it didn't? His scowl deepening, Rallick crushed that question before it could lead his thought in search of an answer. As Baruk had said, the time had come to go home. His scowl deepening, Rallick crushed that question before it could lead his thought in search of an answer. As Baruk had said, the time had come to go home.As he pa.s.sed a silver-masked woman touched his arm. Startled by the contact, he turned to look at her. Long brown hair surrounded the featureless mask, its eyehole slits revealing nothing of what lay behind it. The woman stepped close. 'I've been curious,' she said quietly, 'for some time. However, I see now I should have observed you personally, Rallick Nom. Ocelot's death could have been avoided.'The a.s.sa.s.sin's gaze darkened. 'Vorcan.'Her head tilted in a fraction of a nod.'Ocelot was a fool,' Rallick snapped. 'If Orr's contract was sanctioned by the Guild, I await punishment.'She did not reply.Rallick waited calmly.'You're a man of few words, Rallick Nom.'His answer was silence.Vorcan laughed softly. 'You say you await punishment, as if already resigned to your own death.' Her gaze shifted from him towards the crowded terrace. 'Councilman Turban Orr possessed protective magic, yet it availed him naught. Curious.' She seemed to be considering something, then she nodded. 'Your skills are required, Rallick Nom. Accompany me.'He blinked, then, as she strode towards the garden at the rear of the house, he followed.

Crokus held one hand over Challice's mouth as he lay atop her. With his other he removed his thief's mask. Her eyes widened in recognition. 'If you scream,' Crokus warned in a harsh voice, 'you'll regret it.'He'd managed to drag her perhaps ten yards into the undergrowth before she tripped him. They'd thrashed about, but he'd won the battle.'I just want to talk to you,' Crokus said. 'I won't hurt you, Challice, I swear it. Unless you try something, of course. Now, I'm going to remove my hand. Please don't scream.' He tried to read the expression in her eyes, but all he saw was fear. Ashamed, he raised his hand.She didn't scream, and a moment later Crokus found himself wishing she had. 'd.a.m.n you, thief! When my father catches you he'll have you skinned alive! That's if Gorlas doesn't find you first. You try anything with me and he'll have you boiled, slowly-'Crokus jammed his hand over her mouth again. Skinned? Boiled? 'Who's Gorlas?' he demanded, glaring. 'Some amateur chef? So you did betray me!'She stared up at him.He lifted his hand again.'I didn't betray you,' she said. 'What are you talking about?''That murdered house guard. I never did it, but-''Of course you didn't. Father hired a Seer. A woman killed that guard, a servant of the Rope's. The Seer was terrified and didn't even stay to be paid! Now get off me, thief.'He let her go and sat back on the ground. He stared into the trees. 'You didn't betray me? What about Meese? The guards at Uncle Mammot's? The big hunt?'Challice climbed to her feet and brushed dead leaves from her hide cloak. 'What are you babbling about? I have to get back. Gorlas will be looking for me. He's the first son of House Tholius, in training to be a master duellist. If he sees you with me, there'll be real trouble.'He looked up at her blankly. 'Wait!' He sprang to his feet. 'Listen, Challice! Forget this Gorlas idiot. Within the year my uncle will introduce us formally. Mammot is a famous writer.'Challice rolled her eyes. 'Get your feet back on the ground. A writer? Some old man with ink-stained hands who walks into walls has his house power? Influence? House Tholius has power, influence, everything required. Besides, Gorlas loves me.''But I-' He stopped, looking away. Did he? No. Did that matter, though? What did he want from her, anyway?'What do you want from me, anyway?' Challice demanded.He studied his feet. Then he met her eyes. 'Company?' he asked diffidently. 'Friendship? What am I saying? I'm a thief! I rob women like you!''That's right,' she snapped. 'So why pretend otherwise?' Her expression softened. 'Crokus, I won't betray you. It will be our secret.'For the briefest of moments he felt like a child being stroked and consoled by a kindly matron, and he found himself enjoying it.'Before you,' she added, smiling, 'I'd never met a real thief from the streets.'His enjoyment ended in a surge of anger. 'Hood's Breath, no,' he sneered. 'Real? You don't know what's real, Challice. You've never had blood on your hands. You've never seen a man die. But that's the way it should be, isn't it? Leave the dirt to us, we're used to it.''I saw a man die tonight,' Challice said quietly. 'I never want to again. If that's what "real" means, then I don't want it. It's all yours, Crokus. Goodbye.' She turned and walked away.Crokus stared at her back, her braided hair, as her words rang in his head.Suddenly exhausted, he turned to the garden. He hoped Apsalar had remained where he'd left her. The last thing he wanted now was to have to track her down. He slipped into the shadows.

Mallet recoiled with his first step into the glade. Paran gripped his arm. Their eyes met.The healer shook his head. 'I'll not approach any closer, sir. Whatever lives there is anathema to my Denul Warren. And it ... it senses me ... with hunger.' He wiped sweat from his brow, drew a shaky breath. 'Best bring the girl to me here.'Paran released his arm and darted into the clearing. The block of wood was now the size of a table, veined in thick, twisting roots and pocked on its sides with rough squared holes. The earth around it looked soaked in blood. 'Corporal,' he whispered, chilled. 'Send the girl over to Mallet.'Kalam laid a hand on her shoulder. 'It's all right, la.s.s,' he said, in the tone of a kindly uncle, 'you go on, now. We'll join you shortly.''Yes,' she smiled, and moved to where the healer stood at the glade's edge.Kalam rubbed his bristly jaw, eyes following her. 'Never seen Sorry smile before,' he said, as Paran arrived. 'And that's a shame.'They stood and watched as Mallet spoke quietly to the girl, then stepped forward and laid a hand on her forehead.Paran c.o.c.ked his head. 'The storm's stopped,' he said.'Yeah. Hope it means what we'd like it to mean.''Someone's stopped it. I share your hope, Corporal.' For the captain however, it was a small hope. Something was building. He sighed. 'It's not even the twelfth bell yet. Hard to believe.''Long night ahead of us,' the a.s.sa.s.sin said, making it clear that he, too, found himself sorely lacking in optimism. He grunted. Mallet had voiced an amazed cry that reached them. The healer drew back his hand and waved at Paran and Kalam. 'You go,' the a.s.sa.s.sin said.The captain frowned at the black man, confused. Then he went over to where the healer and Sorry waited. The girl's eyes were closed, and she seemed in a trance.Mallet was direct. 'The possession's gone,' he said.'Guessed as much,' Paran replied, eyeing the girl.'There's more to it, though,' the healer continued. 'She's got someone else inside her, sir.'Paran's brows rose.'Someone who was there all along. How it survived the Rope's presence is beyond me. And now I've got a choice.''Explain.'Mallet crouched, found a twig and began to scratch aimless patterns in the dirt. 'That someone's been protecting the girl's mind, acting like an alchemist's filter. In the last two years, Sorry's done things that would drive her insane if she'd remembered any of it. That presence is fighting those memories right now, but it needs help, because it isn't as strong as it once was. It's dying.'Paran squatted beside the man. 'You're thinking of offering that help, then?''Not sure. You see, sir, I don't know its plans. Don't know what it's up to, can't read the pattern it's trying to make. So let's say I help it, only what it wants is absolute control? Then the girl's possessed all over again.''So you think the presence was protecting Sorry from the Rope, only so it could now jump in and take over?''Put it that way,' Mallet said, 'and it doesn't make sense. What gets me, though, is why else would that presence commit itself so thoroughly? Its body, its flesh is gone. If it lets go of the girl it's got nowhere to go, sir. Now, maybe it's a loved one, a relative or something like that. A person who was willing to sacrifice herself absolutely. That's a possibility.''Herself? It's a woman?''It was. d.a.m.ned if I know what it is now. All I get from it is sadness.' The healer met Paran's eyes. 'It's the saddest thing I've ever known, sir.'Paran studied the man's face briefly, then he rose. 'I'm not going to give you an order on what to do, Healer.''But?''But, for what it's worth, I say do it. Give it what it needs so it can do what it wants to do.'Mallet puffed out his cheeks, then tossed down the twig and straightened. 'My instinct, too, sir. Thanks.'Kalam spoke loudly from the glade. 'Far enough. Show yourselves.'The two men spun around to see Kalam looking into the woods to their left. Paran grasped Mallet's arm and pulled him into the shadows. The healer dragged Sorry with them.Two figures entered the glade, a woman and a man.

Crokus snaked closer through the vines and mulch of the forest floor. For an off-limits garden, this was a busy tangle of wood. The voices he'd heard in his search for Apsalar now revealed themselves as two men and one silver-masked woman. All three were looking at an odd, blurry tree stump in the centre of the glade. Slowly Crokus let out a breath. One of the men was Rallick Nom.'There is ill in this,' the woman said, stepping back. 'A hunger.'The large black-skinned man at her side grunted. 'Wouldn't argue with you on that, Guild Master. Whatever it is, it ain't Malazan.'The thief's eyes widened. Malazan spies? Guild Master? Vorcan! spies? Guild Master? Vorcan! Seemingly impervious to the strangeness around her, the woman now turned to Rallick. 'How does it affect you, Rallick?' Seemingly impervious to the strangeness around her, the woman now turned to Rallick. 'How does it affect you, Rallick?''It doesn't,' he said.'Approach it, then.'The a.s.sa.s.sin shrugged and walked up to the writhing, knotted block. Its blurred movement stopped.Vorcan relaxed. 'You seem to damage its efforts, Rallick. Curious.'The man grunted. 'Otataral dust.''What?''I rubbed it into my skin.'Vorcan stared.The other man's eyes narrowed on Rallick. 'I remember you, a.s.sa.s.sin. Our quarry when we first sought to make contact. The night of the ambush from above.'Rallick nodded.'Well,' the Malazan continued, 'I'm surprised you survived.''He is a man of many surprises,' Vorcan said. 'Very well, Corporal Kalam of the Bridgeburners, your request for an audience reached me and I have granted it. Before we begin, however, I would appreciate it if the rest of your party were to join us.' She turned to the trees on her right.Crokus's head was already reeling Bridgeburners! but it felt moments away from bursting when he saw two men emerge from the shadows, with Apsalar between them. She looked drugged, and her eyes were closed.One of the men said, 'Guild Master, I am Captain Paran of the Ninth Squad.' He drew a deep breath, then continued, 'In this matter, however, Kalam speaks for the Empire.'Vorcan turned back to the black man. 'Then the audience is begun.''We both know, Guild Master, that the City Council is not Darujhistan's true power base. And since you're not, either, we've