A Malazan Book of the Fallen Collection 1

haven't a clue. Quick Ben's not the expansive t ype, the bastard. 'It's your shaved knuckle in the hole, Kalam. With this you can stride right into the throne room. I guarantee it.' He glanced around, saw a low, flat rock nearby. 'Get everyone ready to move.'
    The assassin crouched down before the flat rock, set the stone on it, then found a fist-sized cobble. He hefted it thoughtfully before bringing it crashing down on the stone.
    He was shocked as it splattered like wet clay.
    Darkness swept over them. Kalam looked up, slowly straightened. Damn, I should've guessed.
    'Where are we?' Selv demanded in a high, taut voice.
    'Mother!'
    The assassin turned to see Kesen and Vaneb stumbling in knee-deep ash. Ash that was filled with charred bones. The horses were shying, tossing their heads as grey dust rose like smoke.
    Hood's breath, we're in the Imperial Warren.' Kalam found himself standing on a broad, raised disc of grey basalt. Sky merged with land in a formless, colourless haze. I could wring your neck, Quick Ben! The assassin had heard rumours that such a warren had been created and the description matched, but the tales he'd picked up on Genabackis suggested that it was barely nascent, extending no more than a few hundred leagues – if leagues mean much here – in a ring around Unta. Instead, it reaches all the way into Seven Cities. And Genabackis? Why not? Quick Ben, there could be a Claw riding your shoulder right now ...
    The children had settled their horses and were now in the saddles, well away from the grisly scorched mound. Kalam glanced over to see Minala and Selv tying Keneb onto his saddle.
    The assassin approached his own stallion. The beast snorted disdainfully as he swung himself up and gathered the reins.
    'We're in a warren, aren't we?' Minala asked. 'I'd always believed all those tales of other realms were nothing but elaborate inventions wizards and priests used to prop up all the fumbling around they did.'
    Kalam grunted. He'd been run through enough warrens and plunged into enough chaotic maelstroms of sorcery to take it for granted. Minala had just reminded him that for most people such a reality was remote, viewed with scepticism if acknowledged at all. Is such ignorance a comfort or a source of blind fear?
    'I take it we're safe from Korbolo Dom here?'
    'I certainly hope so,' the assassin muttered.
    'How do we select a direction? There're no landmarks, no trail...'
    'Quick Ben says you travel with an intention in mind and the warren will take you there.'
    'And the destination you have in mind?'
    Kalam scowled, was silent for a long moment. Then he sighed. 'Aren.'
    'How safe are we?'
    Safe? We've stepped into a hornets' nest. 'We'll see.'
    'Oh, that's a comfort!' Minala snapped.
    The image of the crucified Malazan boy rose once again in the assassin's thoughts. He glanced over at Keneb's children. 'Better this risk than a ... different certainty,' he muttered.
    'Are you going to explain that comment?'
    Kalam shook his head. 'Enough talk. I've a city to visualize...'
     
    Lostara Yil walked her mount up to the gaping hole, understanding at once
    that, although she had never seen one before, this was a portalway into another
    warren. Its edges had begun fading, like a wound closing.
    She hesitated. The assassin had chosen a short-cut, a means of slipping past the traitor's army between him and Aren. The Red Blade knew she had no choice but to follow, for the trail would prove far too cold should she manage the long way to Aren. Even getting through Korbolo Dom's forces would likely prove impossible – as a Red Blade she was bound to be recognized, even wearing unmarked armour as she did now.
    Still, Lostara Yil hesitated.
    Her horse reared back squealing as a figure staggered from the portalway. A man, grey-clothed, grey-skinned – even his hair was grey – straightened before her, glanced around with strangely luminous eyes, then smiled.
    'Not a hole I expected to fall through,' he said in lilting Malazan. 'My apologies if I startled you.' He sketched a bow, the gesture resulting in clouds of dust cascading from him. The grey was ash, Lostara realized. Dark skin revealed itself in patches on the man's lean face.
    He eyed her knowingly. 'You carry an aspected sigil. Hidden.'
    'What?' Her hand drifted towards her sword hilt.
    The man caught the motion, his smile broadening. 'You are a Red Blade, an officer in fact. Which makes us allies.'
    Her eyes narrowed. 'Who are you?'
    'Call me