A Malazan Book of the Fallen Collection 3

holding the god in place. He held
an apple in the other hand, from which he now took a large
bite.
    'You think this is funny?' Kalam demanded.
    Cotillion chewed, then swallowed. 'Somewhat.'
    'In case you hadn't noticed, we're clinging to a sky keep,
and it's got companions, a whole damned row of them.'
    'If you needed a ride,' the god said, 'you'd be better off
with a wagon, or a horse.'
    'It's not moving. It stopped. And I'm trying to break into
this one. Quick Ben and a marine were waiting below, but
they've just vanished.'
    Cotillion examined the apple, then took another bite.
    'My arms are getting tired.'
    Chewing. Swallowing. 'I'm not surprised, Kalam. Even
so, you will have to be patient, since I have some questions.
I'll start with the most obvious one. Why are you trying to
break into a fortress filled with K'Chain Che'Malle?'
    'Filled? Are you sure?'
    'Reasonably.'
    'Then what are they doing here?'
    'Waiting, looks like. Anyway, I'm the one asking
questions.'
    'Fine. Go ahead, I've got all day.'
    'Actually, I think that was my only question. Oh, wait,
there's one more. Would you like me to return you to solid
ground, so we can resume our conversation in more
comfort?'
    'You're enjoying this way too much, Cotillion.'
    'The opportunities for amusement grow ever rarer.
Fortunately, we're in something like this keep's shadow, so
our descent will be relatively easy.'
    'Any time.'
    Cotillion tossed the apple aside, then reached out to
grasp Kalam's upper arm. 'Step away and leave the rest to
me.'
    'Hold on a moment. Quick Ben's spells were dispelled –
that's how I ended up stuck here—'
    'Probably because he's unconscious.'
    'He is?'
    'Or dead. We should confirm things either way, yes?'
    You sanctimonious blood-lapping sweat-sucking —
    'Risky,' Cotillion cut in, 'making your cursing sound like
praying.' A sharp tug, and Kalam bellowed as he was
snatched out from the rockface. And was held, suspended
in the air by Cotillion's grip on his arm. 'Relax, you damned
ox, "easy" is a relative term.'
    Thirty heartbeats later their feet touched ground. Kalam
pulled his arm away and headed over to the fissure gaping
in the place where Quick and Stormy had been waiting. He
approached the edge carefully. Called down into the dark.
'Quick! Stormy!' No answer.
    Cotillion was at his side. 'Stormy? That wouldn't be
Adjutant Stormy, would it? Pig-eyed, hairy, scowling—'
    'He's now a corporal,' Kalam said. 'And Gesler's a sergeant.'
    A snort from the god, but no further comment.
    The assassin leaned back and studied Cotillion. 'I didn't
really think you'd answer my prayer.'
    'I am a god virtually brimming with surprises.'
    Kalam's gaze narrowed. 'You came damned fast, too. As
if you were ... close by.'
    'An outrageous assumption,' Cotillion said. 'Yet, oddly
enough, accurate.'
    The assassin drew the coil of rope from his shoulder, then
looked around, and swore.
    Sighing, Cotillion held out one hand.
    Kalam gave him one end of the rope. 'Brace yourself,' he
said, as he tumbled the coil down over the pit's edge. He
heard a distant snap.
    'Don't worry about that,' Cotillion said. 'I'll make it as
long as you need.'
    Hood-damned gods. Kalam worked his way over the edge,
then began descending through the gloom. Too much climbing
today. Either that or I'm gaining weight. His moccasins
finally settled on stone. He stepped away from the rope.
    From overhead a small globule of light drifted down,
illuminating the nearest wall, vertical, man-made, featuring
large painted panels, the images seeming to dance in
the descending light. For a moment, Kalam simply stared.
No idle decoration, this, but a work of art, a master's hand
exuberantly displayed in each and every detail. Heavily
clothed, more or less human in form, the figures were in
positions of transcendence, arms upraised in worship or
exaltation, faces filled with joy. Whilst, crowding their feet,
dismembered body parts had been painted, blood-splashed
and buzzing with flies. The mangled flesh continued down
to the chamber's floor, then on out, and Kalam saw now
that the bloody scene covered the entire expanse of floor,
as far as he could see in every direction.
    Pieces of rubble were scattered here and there, and, less
than a half-dozen paces away, two motionless bodies.
    Kalam headed over.
    Both men lived, he was relieved to discover, though it
was difficult to determine the extent of their injuries,
beyond the obvious. Stormy had broken both legs, one
above the knee, the other