A Malazan Book of the Fallen Collection 3

Really wide.'
    The ghost's head slowly turned towards the building's
entrance. 'Captain, someone died in there.'
    Paran nodded. 'I can smell it.'
    They looked over as Ganath and Karpolan Demesand –
the latter flanked by the two Pardu shareholders –
approached. The Trygalle merchant-mage made a face as
the foul stench of rotting meat reached him. He scowled
over at the open doorway. 'The ritual spilling of blood,' he
said, then uncharacteristically spat. 'These Deragoth have
found worshippers. Master of the Deck, will this detail
prove problematic?'
    'Only if they show up,' Paran said. 'After that, well, they
might end up having to reconsider their faith. This could
prove tragic for them ...'
    'Are you reconsidering?' Karpolan asked.
    'I wish I had that luxury. Ganath, will you join me in
exploring the interior of the temple?'
    Her brows rose fractionally, then she nodded. 'Of course.
I note that darkness rules within – do you have need for
light?'
    'It wouldn't hurt.'
    Leaving the others, they walked side by side towards the
doorway. In a low voice, Ganath said, 'You suspect as I do,
Ganoes Paran.'
    'Yes.'
    'Karpolan Demesand is no fool. He will realize before
long.'
    'Yes.'
    'Then we should display brevity in our examination.'
    'Agreed.'
    Reaching the doorway, Ganath gestured and a dull,
bluish light slowly rose in the chamber beyond.
    They stepped within.
    A single room – no inner walls. The floor was mud, packed
by traffic. A shattered, up-ended tree-stump dominated the
centre, the roots reaching out almost horizontally, as if
the tree had grown on flat bedrock, sending its tendrils out to
all sides. In the centre of this makeshift altar the core of the
bole itself had been carved into a basin shape, filled now by a
pool of black, dried blood. Bound spreadeagled to outstretched
roots were two corpses, both women, once bloated
by decay but now rotted into gelatinous consistency as if
melting, bones protruding here and there. Dead maggots lay
in heaps beneath each body.
    'Sedora Orr,' Paran surmised, 'and Darpareth Vayd.'
    'That seems a reasonable assumption,' Ganath said. 'The
Trygalle sorceress must have been injured in some way,
given her stated prowess.'
    'Well, that carriage was a mess.'
    'Indeed. Have we seen enough, Ganoes Paran?'
    'Blood ritual – an Elder propitiation. I would think the
Deragoth have been drawn near.'
    'Yes, meaning you have little time once you have
effected their release.'
    'I hope Karpolan is up to this.' He glanced over at the
Jaghut. 'In a true emergency, Ganath, can you ... assist?'
    'Perhaps. As you know, I am not pleased with what you
intend here. What would please me even less, however, is
being torn apart by Hounds of Darkness.'
    'I share that aversion. Good. So, if I call upon your
assistance, Ganath, you will know what to do?'
    'Yes.'
    Paran turned about. 'It may sound unreasonable,' he said,
'but my sympathy for the likely plight of these worshippers
has diminished somewhat.'
    'Yes, that is unreasonable. Your kind worship from fear,
after all. And what you unleash here will be the five faces
of that fear. And so shall these poor people suffer.'
    'If they weren't interested in the attention of their gods,
Ganath, they would have avoided the spilling of blood on
consecrated ground.'
    'Someone among them sought that attention, and the
power that might come from it. A High Priest or shaman, I
suspect.'
    'Well then, if the Hounds don't kill that High Priest, his
followers will.'
    'A harsh lesson, Ganoes Paran.'
    'Tell that to these two dead women.'
    The Jaghut made no reply.
    They walked from the temple, the light fading behind
them.
    Paran noted Karpolan Demesand's fixed regard, the
dread plain, undeniable, and he slowly nodded.
The Trygalle master turned away and, exhausted as he had
been earlier, his weariness seemed to increase tenfold.
    Hedge came close. 'Could've been shareholders,' he suggested.
    'No,' said Ganath. 'Two women, both expensively
attired. One must presume that the shareholders met their
fate elsewhere.'
    Paran said to Hedge, 'Now comes your final task, sapper.
Summoning the Deragoth – but consider this first – they're
close, and we need time to—'
    'Run like Hood's bowels, aye.' Hedge lifted a satchel into
view. 'Now, before you ask me where I been hiding this,
don't bother. Here in this place, details like that don't
matter.' He grinned. 'Some people would like to take gold
with 'em when they go. Me, I'll take Moranth munitions
over gold any day.