A Malazan Book of the Fallen Collection 2

a challenge,' Lady Envy said quietly, 'I suggest, for the sake of peace – not to mention your life – that you refrain from your present engagement, Toc the Younger.'
    He grunted in sudden alarm, tore his gaze from the man. 'Good point, Lady. It's only that I've never heard of ... well, never mind. Doesn't matter.' He approached the table, reached for the jug.
    Movement exploded behind him, followed by the sound of a body skidding across the room, striking the wall with a sickly thud. Toc spun round to see Tool, sword upraised, facing the two remaining Seguleh. Senu lay crumpled ten paces away, either unconscious or dead. His two swords were both halfway out of their sheaths.
    Standing beside Tool, the ay named Baaljagg was staring at the body, tail wagging.
    Lady Envy regarded the other Seguleh with eyes of ice. 'Given that my commands have proved insufficient, I now leave future encounters in the T'lan Imass's obviously capable hands.' She swung to Tool. 'Is Senu dead?'
    'No. I used the flat of my blade, Lady, having no desire to slay one of your servants.'
    'Considerate of you, given the circumstances.'
    Toc closed one shaky hand on the jug's handle. 'Shall I pour one for you as well, Lady Envy?'
    She glanced at him, raised one eyebrow, then smiled. 'A splendid idea, Toc the Younger. Clearly, it falls to you and me to establish civility.'
    'What have you learned,' Tool said, addressing her, 'of the Rent?'
    Cup in hand, she faced him. 'Ah, you cut to the quick in all matters, I see. It has been bridged. By a mortal soul. As I am sure you are aware. The focus of my studies, however, has been on the identity of the warren itself. It is unlike any other. The portal seems almost ... mechanical.'
    Rent? That would be the red welt in the air. Uh.
    'You have examined the K'Chain Che'Malle tombs, Lady?'
    She wrinkled her nose. 'Briefly. They are all empty, and have been for some time. Decades.'
    Tool's head tilted with a soft creak. 'Only decades?'
    'Unpleasant detail, indeed. I believe the Matron experienced
    considerable difficulty in extricating herself, then spent still further time
    in recovering from her ordeal, before releasing her children. She and her
    brood made further efforts in the buried city to the northwest, though incomplete,
    as if the results proved unsatisfactory. They then appear to have departed
    the area entirely.' She paused, then added, 'It may be relevant that the Matron
    was the original soul sealing the Rent. Another hapless creature resides there
    now, we must presume.'
    The T'lan Imass nodded.
    During the exchange Toc had been busy eating, and was on his second cup of the crisp, cold wine. Trying to make sense of the conversation thus far was giving him a headache – he'd mull on it later. 'I need to head north,' he said round a mouthful of grainy bread. 'Is there any chance, Lady, that you can furnish me with suitable supplies? I would be in your debt...' His words trailed away at seeing the avid flash in her eyes.
    'Careful what you offer, young man—'
    'No offence, but why do you call me "young man"? You look not a day over twenty-five.'
    'How flattering. Thus, despite Tool's success in identifying me – and I admit that I find the depth of his knowledge most disconcerting – the names the T'lan Imass revealed meant little to you.'
    Toc shrugged. 'Anomander Rake I've heard, of course. I didn't know he took a sword from someone else – nor when that event occurred. It strikes me, however, that you may well be justified in feeling some animosity towards him, since he killed your father – what was his name? Draconus. The Malazan Empire shares that dislike. So, in sharing enemies—'
    'We are perforce allies. A reasonable surmise. Unfortunately wrong. Regardless, I would be pleased to provide what food and drink you are able to carry, though I have nothing in the way of weapons, I'm afraid. In return, I may some day ask of you a favour – nothing grand, of course. Something small and relatively painless. Is this acceptable?'
    Toc felt his appetite draining away. He glanced at Tool, got no help from the undead warrior's expressionless face. The Malazan scowled. 'You have me at a disadvantage, Lady Envy.'
    She smiled.
    And here I was hoping we'd get past the polite civility to something more . . . intimate. Here you go again, Toc, thinking with the wrong brain —
    Her smile broadened.
    Flushing, he reached for his cup. 'Very well, I agree to your proposal.'
    'Your equanimity is