A Malazan Book of the Fallen Collection 1

concerned.'
    'Is that the name of the town you live in?'
    'Town? Darujhistan's a city. It's the biggest, richest city in all the land.'
    There was awe and excitement in her reply. 'A city. I've never been to a city. Your name is Crokus, isn't it?'
    'How did you know that?'
    'That's what your soldier friend called you.'
    'Oh, of course.' Why did the fact that she'd known his name send his heart lurching?
    'Aren't you going to ask me my name?' the woman asked quietly.
    'You can remember it?'
    'No,' she admitted. 'That's strange, isn't it?'
    He heard pathos in that reply, and something melted inside – making him even angrier. 'Well, I can't very well help you in that, can I?'
    The woman seemed to withdraw behind him, and her arms loosened their grip. 'No.'
    Abruptly his anger fell away. Crokus was ready to scream at the chaos in his head. Instead he shifted in the saddle, forcing her to clutch him tightly. Ah, he smirked, that's better. Then his eyes widened. What am I saying?
    'Crokus?'
    'What?'
    'Give me a Darujhistan name. Pick one. Pick your favourite.'
    'Challice,' he responded immediately. 'No, wait! You can't be Challice. I already know a Challice. You've got to be someone else.'
    'Is she your girlfriend?'
    'No!' he snapped. He pulled at the reins and they stopped. Crokus clawed at his hair, then threw a leg over and dropped to the ground. He pulled the reins over the horse's head. 'I want to walk,' he said.
    'Yes,' she said. 'I would like to, too.'
    'Well, maybe I want to run!'
    She stepped round to face him, her expression troubled. 'Run? From me, Crokus?'
    He saw things falling into ruins behind her eyes – what were those things? He felt a desperate need to know, but asking straight out was clearly impossible. Why it was impossible he couldn't say. It just was. He looked down at the ground and kicked at a rock. 'No,' he mumbled. 'I didn't mean that. Sorry.'
    Her eyes widened. 'That was my name!' she gasped. 'That was my name, Crokus – you just said my name!'
    'What?' He frowned. 'Sorry?'
    'Yes!' She looked away. 'Only, it wasn't always my name. I don't think. No. It wasn't the name my father gave me.'
    'Can you remember that one?'
    She shook her head and ran a hand through her long, dark hair.
    Crokus started walking, and the girl fell into step beside him. The road wound down through the low hills. In an hour they'd reach the Catlin Bridge. The panic that had filled him was subsiding, perhaps having burned itself out. He felt relaxed, and that surprised him, since he couldn't recall the last time he'd felt relaxed in a female's company.
    They walked in silence for a time. Ahead, the sun sank down in a golden blaze, shimmering along a blue and green line on the horizon beyond the hills. Crokus pointed to the glistening line. 'That's Lake Azur. Darujhistan lies on its south shore.'
    'Haven't you thought of a name for me yet?' the woman asked.
    'The only name that comes to mind,' Crokus said sheepishly, 'is my matron's.'
    The girl glanced at him. 'Your mother's?'
    Crokus laughed. 'No, not that kind of matron. I meant the Lady of Thieves, Apsalar. Only, it's not good to take that kind of name, since she's a goddess. What about Salar?'
    Her nose wrinkled. 'No, I like Apsalar. Make it Apsalar.'
    'But I just said—'
    'That's the name I want,' the girl insisted, her face darkening.
    Uh-oh, Crokus thought. Better not press this one. 'All right.' He sighed.
    'So you're a thief.'
    'What's wrong with that?'
    Apsalar grinned. 'Given my new name, nothing. Nothing at all, Crokus. When do we camp?'
    He blanched. He hadn't thought about that. 'Maybe we should just push on,' he said warily, not meeting her eyes.
    'I'm tired. Why don't we camp at this Catlin Bridge?'
    'Well, I've only got the one bedroll. You can have it. I'll stand watch.'
    'All night? What's there to watch out for?'
    Crokus rounded on her. 'Why all these questions?' he demanded hotly. 'It's dangerous out here! Didn't you see Coil's wound? And how do we know the garrison's still there?'
    'What garrison?'
    Crokus cursed himself. He averted his gaze. 'The garrison on the other side of the bridge,' he said. 'But it's a long bridge—'
    'Oh, come on, Crokus!' Apsalar laughed and drove her elbow into his ribs. 'We'll share the bedroll. I don't mind, so long as you keep your hands to yourself.'
    Rubbing his ribs, Crokus could only stare at her.
     
    Cursing, Kruppe glared over his shoulder at Murillio. 'Damnation! Can't you urge that beast any faster?'
    The