A Malazan Book of the Fallen Collection 1

hand, onto Truth, his fingers wrapped in the lad's belt. Blood streamed from that hand, and Baudin's face was white with pain.
    The unseen wave beneath them slumped. The Ripath charged forward into dead calm. Silence.
    Heboric scrambled to Stormy. The marine lay motionless on the deck, blood gushing in horrifying amounts from his punctured thigh. The flow lost its fierceness even as Kulp watched.
    Heboric did the only thing he could, or so Kulp would remember it in retrospect. At that instant, however, the mage screamed a warning – but too late – as Heboric plunged a ghostly, loam-smeared hand directly into the wound.
    Stormy spasmed, giving a bark of pain. The tattoos flowed out from Heboric's wrist to spread a glowing pattern on the soldier's thigh.
    When the old man pulled his arm away, the wound closed, the tattoos knitting together like sutures. Heboric scrambled back, eyes wide with shock.
    A hissing sigh escaped Stormy's grimacing lips. Trembling and bone white, he sat up. Kulp blinked. He'd seen something more than just healing pass from Heboric's arm into Stormy. Whatever it had been, it was virulent and tinged with madness. Worry about it later – the man's alive, isn't he? The mage's attention swung to where Gesler and Baudin knelt on either side of a prone, motionless Truth. The corporal had turned the lad onto his stomach and was rhythmically pushing down with both hands to expel the water that filled Truth's lungs. After a moment the boy coughed.
    The Ripath sat heavily, listing to one side. The uniform grey sky hung close and faintly luminous over them. They were becalmed, the only sound coming from water pouring into the hold somewhere below.
    Gesler helped Truth sit up. Baudin, still on his knees, clutched his right hand in his lap. Kulp saw that all the fingers had been pulled from their joints, skin split and streaming blood.
    'Heboric,' the mage whispered.
    The old man's head jerked around. He was drawing breath in rapid gasps.
    'Tend to Baudin with that healing touch,' Kulp said quietly. We won't think about what comes with it. 'If you can ...'
    'No,' Baudin growled, studying Heboric intently. 'Don't want your god's touch on me, old man.'
    'Those joints need resetting,' Kulp said.
    'Gesler can do it. The hard way.'
    The corporal looked up, then nodded and moved over.
    Felisin spoke. 'Where are we?'
    Kulp shrugged. 'Not sure. But we're sinking.'
    'She's stove through,' Stormy said. 'Four, five places.' The soldier stared down at the tattoos covering his thigh and frowned.
    The young woman struggled to her feet, one hand reaching out to grip the charred mast. The slant of the deck had sharpened.
    'She might capsize,' Stormy said, still studying the tattoos. 'Any time now.'
    Kulp's warren subsided. He slumped in sudden exhaustion. He wouldn't last long in the water, he knew.
    Baudin grunted as Gesler set the first finger of his right hand. The corporal spoke as he moved on to the next one. 'Rig up some casks, Stormy. If you can walk, that is. Divide up the fresh water among them. Felisin, get the emergency food stores – that's the chest on this side of the forecastle. Take the whole thing.' Baudin moaned as he set the next finger. 'Truth, you up to getting some bandages?'
    His dry heaves having stopped a few moments earlier, the boy slowly pushed himself to his hands and knees and starting crawling aft.
    Kulp glanced at Felisin. She had not moved in response to Gesler's orders and seemed to be debating a few choice words. 'Come on, lass,' Kulp said, rising, 'I'll give you a hand.'
    Stormy's fears of capsizing were not realized: as the Ripath settled, the cant slowly diminished. Water had filled the hold and now lapped the hatch, thick as soup and pale blue in colour.
    'Hood's breath,' Stormy said, 'we're sinking in goat's milk.'
    'With a seasoning of brine,' Gesler added. He finished working on Baudin's hand. Truth joined them with a medic's kit.
    'We won't have to go far,' Felisin said, her gaze off to starboard.
    Joining her, Kulp saw what she was looking at. A large ship sat motionless
    in the thick water less then fifty armspans away. It had twin banks of oars,
    hanging down listlessly. A single rudder was visible. There were three masts,
    the main and fore both rigged with tattered square sails, the mizzen mast
    with the shredded remnants of a lateen. There was no sign of life.
    Baudin, his right hand now a blunt bandaged lump, joined them, the corporal a step behind. The one-eared