A Malazan Book of the Fallen Collection 1
regained his balance he heard a chuckle behind him. He turned to see Hairlock perched atop the apex, his wooden body smeared and scorched, the doll's clothing ripped and frayed.
Quick Ben asked, 'This is the Spar of Andii, isn't it?'
Hairlock's round head bobbed. 'Half-way. Now you know how far I have gone, wizard. To the very foot of the Warren, where power finds its first shape, and all is possible.'
'Just not very likely,' Quick Ben said, eyeing the marionette. 'How does it feel, standing in the middle of all that creation but unable to touch it, to use it? It's too alien, isn't it? It bums you with every reach.'
'I'll master it,' Hairlock hissed. 'You know nothing. Nothing.'
Quick Ben smiled. 'I've been here before, Hairlock.' He scanned the swirling gases around them, scudding on contrary winds. 'You've been lucky,' he said. 'Though they are few in number, there are creatures who call this realm home.' He paused and turned his smile on the puppet. 'They dislike intruders – have you seen what they do to them? What they leave behind?' The wizard's smile broadened at seeing Hairlock's involuntary jerk. 'So you have,' he said quietly.
'You are my protector,' Hairlock snapped. 'I'm bound to you, Wizard! The responsibility is yours, nor will I hide the fact if I am taken.'
'Bound to me, indeed.' Quick Ben lowered himself to his haunches. 'Good to hear your memory's come back. Tell me, how fares Tattersail?'
The puppet slumped, looking away. 'Her recovery is a difficult one.'
Quick Ben frowned. 'Recovery? From what?'
'The Hound Gear tracked me.' Hairlock shifted uneasily. 'There was a skirmish.'
A scowl grew on the wizard's face. 'And?'
The puppet shrugged. 'Gear fled, sorely wounded by a mundane sword in the hands of that captain of yours. Tayschrenn then arrived, but Tattersail had slipped into unconsciousness by then, so his search for answers was thwarted. But the fire of suspicion has been stoked beneath him. He sends out his servants, and they stalk the Warrens. They hunt for signs of who and what I am. And why. Tayschrenn knows your squad is involved, he knows you're trying to save your own skins.' The puppet's mad gaze flickered. 'He wants you all dead, Wizard. And as for Tattersail, perhaps he hopes her fever will kill her so he won't have to – but there is much he'd lose if she died without his questioning her first. No doubt he'd seek out her soul, he'd pursue what she knows into Hood's own realm, but she'd know enough to be elusive.'
'Shut up for a minute,' Quick Ben ordered. 'Back to the beginning. You said Captain Paran stabbed Gear with his sword?'
Hairlock scowled. 'I did. A mortal weapon – it shouldn't have been possible. He may well have dealt the Hound a fatal wound.' The puppet paused, then growled, 'You've not told me everything, Wizard. There are gods involved in this. If you keep me in such ignorance I might well stumble into the path of one of them.' He spat. 'A slave to you is bad enough. Do you think you could challenge a god for mastery of me? I'd be taken, turned, perhaps even ...' Hairlock unsheathed one of his small knives '... used against you.' He advanced a step, a dark glitter in his eyes.
Quick Ben raised an eyebrow. Inside, his heart lurched in his chest. Was it possible? Would he not have detected something? A flavour, a hint of immortal presence?
'One last thing, Wizard,' Hairlock murmured, taking another step. 'Tattersail's fever crested just this night past. She screamed something about a coin. A coin that had spun, but now it has fallen, it has bounced, it has entered someone's hand. You must tell me about this coin – I must have your thoughts, Wizard.' The puppet stopped suddenly and looked down at the knife in his hand. Hairlock hesitated, seeming confused, then sheathed the weapon and squatted. 'What's so important about a coin?' he growled. 'Nothing. The bitch raved – she was stronger than I had thought.'
Quick Ben froze. The puppet seemed to have forgotten that the wizard was present. The thoughts he now heard were Hairlock's own. He realized he was looking through the shattered window into the puppet's insane mind. And it was there that all the danger lay. The wizard held his breath as Hairlock continued, its eyes fixed on the clouds below.
'Gear should have killed her – would have, if not for that idiot captain. What irony, he now tends to her and puts his hand to his sword whenever I seek to come near. He knows I would snuff her life in an
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