A Malazan Book of the Fallen Collection 2

Quick Ben scrambled to his feet and ran.
    The wave struck him from behind, sent him sprawling onto the hot, steaming ground. Screaming, the wizard writhed beneath the sorcerous onslaught. He tried to pull himself further away, but the power was too great. It began dragging him back. He clawed at the ground, stared at the furrows his fingers gouged in the earth, saw the dark blood welling from them.
    Oh, Burn, forgive me.
    The invisible, implacable grip pulled him closer to the tent entrance. Hunger and rage radiated from the figure within, as well as a certainty that such desires were moments from deliverance.
    Quick Ben was helpless.
    'You will know such pain!' the god roared.
    Something reached up through the earth, then. A massive hand closed about the wizard, like a giant child snatching at a doll. Quick Ben screamed again as it pulled him down into the churning, steaming soil. His mouth filled with bitter earth.
    A bellow of fury echoed dimly from above.
    Jagged rocks ripped along the wizard's body as he was pulled further down through the flesh of the Sleeping Goddess. Starved of air, darkness slowly closed around his mind.
    Then he was coughing, spitting up mouthfuls of gritty mud. Warm, sweet air filled his lungs. He clawed dirt from his eyes, rolled onto his side. Echoing groans buffeted him, the flat, hard ground beneath him slowly buckling and shifting. Quick Ben rose to his hands and knees. Blood dripped from his soul's torn flesh – his clothes were naught but strips – but he was alive. He looked up.
    And almost cried out.
    A vaguely human-shaped figure towered over him, easily fifteen times the wizard's own height, its bulk nearly reaching the cavern's domed ceiling. Dark flesh of clay studded with rough diamonds gleamed and glittered as the apparition shifted slightly. It seemed to be ignoring Quick Ben – though the wizard knew that it had been this beast that had saved him from the Crippled God. Its arms were raised to the ceiling directly above it, hands disappearing into the murky, red-stained roof. Vast arcs of dull white gleamed in that ceiling, evenly spaced like an endless succession of ribs. The hands appeared to be gripping or possibly were fused to two such ribs.
    Just visible beyond the creature, perhaps a thousand paces down the cavern's length, squatted another such apparition, its arms upraised as well.
    Twisting, Quick Ben's gaze travelled the opposite length of the cavern. More servants – the wizard saw four, possibly five of them – each one reaching up to the ceiling. The cavern was in fact a vast tunnel, curving in the distance.
    I am indeed within Burn, the Sleeping Goddess. A living warren. Flesh, and bone. And these . . . servants ...
    'You have my gratitude!' he called up to the creature looming above him.
    A flattened, misshapen head tilted down. Diamond eyes stared like descending stars. 'Help us.'
    The voice was childlike, filled with despair.
    Quick Ben gaped. Help?
    'She weakens,' the creature moaned. 'Mother weakens. We die. Help us.'
    'How?'
    'Help us, please.'
    'I-I don't know how.'
    'Help.'
    Quick Ben staggered upright. The clay flesh, he now saw, was melting, running in wet streams down the giant's thick arms. Chunks of diamond fell away. The Crippled God's killing them, poisoning Burn's flesh. The wizard's thoughts raced. 'Servant, child of Burn! How much time? Until it is too late?'
    'Not long,' the creature replied. 'It nears. The moment nears.'
    Panic gripped Quick Ben. 'How close? Can you be more specific? I need to know what I can work with, friend. Please try!'
    'Very soon. Tens. Tens of years, no more. The moment nears. Help us.'
    The wizard sighed. For such powers, it seemed, centuries were as but days. Even so, the enormity of the servant's plea threatened to overwhelm him. As did the threat. What would happen if Burn dies? Beru fend, I don't think I want to find out. All right, then, it's my war, now. He glanced down at the mud-strewn ground around him, questing with his senses. He quickly found the tracker. 'Servant! I will leave something here, so that I may find you again. I will find help – I promise – and I will come back to you—'
    'Not me,' the giant said. 'I die. Another will come. Perhaps.' The creature's arms had thinned, were now almost devoid of their diamond armour. 'I die now.' It began to sag. The red stain in the ceiling had spread to the ribs it held, and cracks had begun to show.
    'I will find an answer,' Quick Ben whispered. 'I