A Malazan Book of the Fallen Collection 1

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. Damned 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! 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 assassin 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, Assassin. 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 concluded that the city's mages operate covertly, keeping the status quo intact being their overriding