A Malazan Book of the Fallen Collection 1

warily eyeing the woman seated on the throne.
    Laseen had changed little since the only other time he'd been this close to her; plain and unadorned, her hair short and fair above the blue tint of her unmemorable features. Her brown eyes regarded him narrowly.
    Paran adjusted his sword-belt, clasped his hands and bowed from the waist. 'Empress.'
    'I see,' Laseen drawled, 'that you did not heed the commander's advice of seven years ago.'
    He blinked in surprise.
    She continued, 'Of course, he did not heed the advice given him, either. I wonder what god tossed you two together on that parapet – I would do service to acknowledge its sense of humour. Did you imagine the Imperial Arch would exit in the stables, Lieutenant?'
    'My horse was reluctant to make the passage, Empress.'
    'With good reason.'
    Paran smiled. 'Unlike me, she's of a breed known for its intelligence. Please accept my humblest apologies.'
    'Topper will see you to the Adjunct.' She gestured, and a guardsman came forward to collect the mare's reins.
    Paran bowed again then faced the Claw with a smile.
    Topper led him to a side door.
    'You fool!' he snapped, as the door was closed soundly behind them. He strode quickly down the narrow hallway. Paran made no effort to keep pace, forcing the Claw to wait at the far end where a set of stairs wound upward. Topper's expression was dark with fury. 'What was that about a parapet? You've met her before – when?'
    'Since she declined to explain I can only follow her example,' Paran said. He eyed the saddle-backed stairs. 'This would be the West Tower, then. The Tower of Dust—'
    'To the top floor. The Adjunct awaits you in her chambers – there's no other doors so you won't get lost, just keep on until you reach the top.'
    Paran nodded and began climbing.
    The door to the tower's top room was ajar. Paran rapped a knuckle against it and stepped inside. The Adjunct was seated at a bench at the far end, her back to a wide window. Its shutters were thrown open, revealing the red glint of sunrise. She was getting dressed. Paran halted, embarrassed.
    'I'm not one for modesty,' the Adjunct said. 'Enter and close the door behind you.'
    Paran did as he was bidden. He looked around. Faded tapestries lined the walls. Ragged furs covered the stone tiles of the floor. The furniture – what little there was – was old, Napan in style and thus artless.
    The Adjunct rose to shrug into her leather armour. Her hair shimmered in the red light. 'You look exhausted, Lieutenant. Please, sit.'
    He looked around, found a chair and slumped gratefully into it. 'The trail's been thoroughly obscured, Adjunct. The only people left in Gerrom aren't likely to talk.'
    She fastened the last of the clasps. 'Unless I were to send a necromancer.'
    He grunted. 'Tales of pigeons – I think the possibility was foreseen.'
    She regarded him with a raised brow.
    'Pardon, Adjunct. It seems that death's heralds were ... birds.'
    'And were we to glance through the eyes of the dead soldiers, we would see little else. Pigeons, you said?'
    He nodded.
    'Curious.' She fell silent.
    He watched her for a moment longer. 'Was I bait, Adjunct?'
    'No.'
    'And Topper's timely arrival?'
    'Convenience.'
    He fell silent. When he closed his eyes his head spun. He'd not realized how weary he'd become. It was a moment before he understood that she was speaking to him. He shook himself, straightened.
    The Adjunct stood before him. 'Sleep later, not now, Lieutenant. I was informing you of your future. It would be well if you paid attention. You completed your task as instructed. Indeed, you have proved yourself highly ... resilient. To all outward appearances, I am done with you, Lieutenant. You will be returned to the Officer Corps here in Unta. What will follow will be a number of postings, completing your official training. As for your time in Itko Kan, nothing unusual occurred there, do you understand me?'
    'Yes.'
    'Good.'
    'And what of what really happened there, Adjunct? Do we abandon pursuit? Do we resign ourselves to never knowing exactly what happened, or why? Or is it simply me who is to be abandoned?'
    'Lieutenant, this is a trail we must not follow too closely, but follow it we shall, and you will be central to the effort. I have assumed – perhaps in error – that you would wish to see it through, to be witness when the time for vengeance finally arrives. Was I wrong? Perhaps you've seen enough and seek only a return to normality.'
    He closed his eyes.