A Malazan Book of the Fallen Collection 2

Indeed, seething.'
    'There are matters to be discussed,' Mok said.
    'Are you sure? Would you by chance be referring to this tumultuous tempest barring our advance? Or perhaps to the fleeing remnants of the army that pursued us here? They'll not return, I assure you—'
    'You have sent a plague among them.'
    'What an outrageous accusation! It's been a miracle that disease has not struck them long ago, what with eating each other without even the civil application of cooking. Dear me, that you would so accuse—'
    'Garath succumbs to that plague, mistress.'
    'What? Nonsense! He is ailed by his wounds—'
    'Wounds that the power of his spirit should have long since healed. The fever within the beast, that so fills the lungs, is the same as that which afflicts the Pannions.' He slowly turned to face her. 'Do something.'
    'An outrage—'
    'Mistress.'
    'Oh, all right! But don't you see the delicious irony? Poleil, Queen of Disease, has allied herself with the Crippled God. A decision that deeply affronts me, I will have you know. How cunning of me to loot her warren and so beset her allies!'
    'I doubt the victims appreciate the irony, mistress. Nor, I imagine, does Garath.'
    'I'd much rather you'd stayed taciturn!'
    'Heal him.'
    'He'll not let me close!'
    'Garath is no longer capable of standing, mistress. Where he now lies, he will not rise from, unless you heal him.'
    'Oh, what a miserable man you are! If you're wrong and he tries to bite me, I will be very upset with you, Mok. I will lay waste to your loins. I will make your eyes crossed so that everyone who looks at you and your silly mask will not be able to help but laugh. And I will think of other things, too, I assure you.'
    'Heal him.'
    'Of course I will! Garath is my beloved companion, after all. Even if he once tried to pee on my robe – though I will acknowledge that since he was asleep at the time it was probably one of K'rul's pranks. All right, all right, stop interrupting me.'
    She approached the huge hound.
    His eyes were glazed, each breath a hacking contortion. Garath did not raise his head as she edged closer.
    'Oh, dear, forgive my inattention, dearest pup. I'd thought only the wounds, and so had already begun to grieve. You are felled by an unseemly vapour? Unacceptable. Easily negated, in fact.' She reached out, fingers lightly resting on the hot, steaming hide. 'There—'
    Garath swung his head, lips slowly peeling back.
    Lady Envy scampered away. 'And that is how you thank me? I have healed you, dearest one!'
    'You made him ill in the first place, mistress,' Mok said behind her.
    'Be quiet, I'm not talking to you any more. Garath! Look at how your strength returns, even as we watch! See, you are standing! Oh, how wonderful! And – no, stay away, please. Unless you want a pat? Do you want a pat? If so, you must stop growling at once!'
    Mok stepped between them, eyes on the bristling hound. 'Garath, we have need of her, even as we have need of you. There is no value in continuing this enmity.'
    'He can't understand you!' Lady Envy said. 'He's a dog! An angry dog, in fact.'
    The hulking creature turned away, padded slowly to where Baaljagg stood facing the storm. The wolf did not so much as glance at him.
    Mok stepped forward. 'Baaljagg sees something, mistress.'
    'What? Out there?'
    They hurried up the pinnacle's slope.
    The bergs of ice had captured a prize. Less than a thousand paces away, at the very edge of the small inlet before them, floated a structure. High-walled on two sides with what appeared to be a latticework of wicker, and surmounted by frost-rimed houses – three in all – it looked nothing more than a broken, torn-away piece of a port town or city. A narrow, crooked alley was indeed visible between the tall, warped houses. As the ice gripping the base of the structure twisted to some unseen current, the two opposites sides came into view, revealing the broken maw of wooden framework reaching beneath the street level, crowded with enormous balsa logs and what appeared to be massive inflated bladders, three of them punctured and flaccid.
    'How decidedly peculiar,' Lady Envy said.
    'Meckros,' Mok said.
    'Excuse me?'
    'The home of the Seguleh is an island, mistress. We are, on rare occasion, visited by the Meckros, who dwell in cities that ride the oceans. They endeavour to raid our coastline, ever forgetful of the unfortunate results of the previous raids. Their fierce zeal entertains those among the Lower Schools.'
    'Well,' Lady