A Malazan Book of the Fallen Collection 1

Domin
Emerging empire in south-east
Genabackis, ruled by the Pannion Seer
Porule
A Genabackan Free City
Quon Tali
Home continent of the Malazan
Empire
Rhivi Plain
Central plain, north Genabackis
Seeker's Deep
Malazan name for Meningalle Ocean
Setta
City on eastern coast of Genabackis
Tahlyn Mountains
Mountain range on north side of Lake Azur
Tulips
A Genabackan Free City
Unta
Capital of the Malazan Empire, on Quon Tali
 
DARUJISTAN AND ENVIRONS
    Despot's Barbican: an ancient edifice and remnant of the
Age of Tyrants
    Hinter's Tower: an abandoned sorcerer's tower in the Noble
District
    Jammit's Worry: the east road
    K'rul's Belfry/Temple: an abandoned temple in the Noble
District
    Phoenix Inn: a popular haunt in the Daru District
    Quip's Bar: a ramshackle bar in the Lakefront District
    The Estates (the Houses)
    The Old Palace (Majesty Hall): present site of the Council
    Worrytown: the slum outside the wall on Jammit's Worry

Steven Erikson's epic fantasy sequence,
The Malazan Book of the Fallen, continues
in Deadhouse Gates. To whet your appetite,
here is the Prologue...
     
     
    1163rd Year of Burn's Sleep
9th Year of the Rule of Empress Laseen
Year of the Cull
     
    He came shambling into Judgement's Round from the Avenue of Souls, a misshapen mass of flies. Seething lumps crawled on his body in mindless migration, black and glittering and occasionally falling away in frenzied clumps that exploded into fragmented flight as they struck the cobbles.
    The Thirsting Hour was coming to a close and the priest staggered in its wake, blind, deaf and silent. Honouring his god on this day the servant of Hood Lord of Death had joined his companions in stripping naked and smearing himself in the blood of executed murderers, blood that was stored in giant amphorae lining the walls of the temple's nave. The brothers had then moved in procession out onto the streets of Unta to greet the god's sprites, enjoining the mortal dance that marked the Season of Rot's last day.
    The guards lining the Round parted to let the priest pass, then parted wider for the spinning, buzzing cloud that trailed him. The sky over Unta was still more grey than blue as the flies that had swept at dawn into the capital of the Malazan Empire now rose, slowly winging out over the bay toward the salt marches and sunken islands beyond the reef. Pestilence came with the Season of Rot, and the Season had come an unprecedented three times in the past ten years.
    The air of the Round still buzzed, was still speckled as if filled with flying grit. Somewhere in the streets beyond a dog yelped like a thing near death, but not near enough, and close to the Round's central fountain the abandoned mule that had collapsed earlier still kicked feebly in the air. Flies had crawled into the beast through every orifice and it was bloated with gases. The animal was stubborn by its breed and was now over an hour in dying. As the priest staggered sightlessly past, flies rose from it in a swift curtain to join those already enshrouding him.
    It was clear to Felisin from where she and the others waited that the priest of Hood was striding directly towards her. His eyes were ten thousand eyes, but she was certain they were all fixed on her. Yet even this growing horror did little to stir the numbness that lay like a smothering blanket over her mind; she was aware of it rising inside but the awareness seemed more a memory of fear than fear now alive within her.
    She barely recalled the first Season of Rot she'd lived through, but had clear memories of the second one. Just under three years ago, she had witnessed this day secure in the family estate, in a solid house with its windows shuttered and cloth-sealed, the braziers set outside the doors and on the courtyard's high broken glass-rimmed walls billowing the acrid smoke of istaarl leaves. The last day of the Season and its Thirsting Hour had been a time of remote revulsion for her, irritating and inconvenient but nothing more. Back then she'd given little thought to the city's countless beggars and the stray animals bereft of shelter, or even of the poorer residents who were subsequently press-ganged into clean-up crews for days afterward.
    The same city, but a different world.
    Felisin wondered if the guards would make any move toward the priest as he came closer to the Cull's victims. She and the others in the line were the charges of the Empress now – Laseen's responsibility – and the priest's path could be seen as blind