A Malazan Book of the Fallen Collection 3

the Fourteenth since
Raraku, no wonder he's wearing a sly smile every time he
sees you.'
    'I don't give a damn about Pearl, not about killing him,
anyway,' Kalam said in a low voice. 'We got bigger things
to worry about. What's our Adjunct got in mind? What's
she planning?'
    'Who says she's planning anything?' Fiddler retorted. He
was carrying one of the children in his arms, a girl, fast
asleep with her thumb in her mouth. 'She went after
Leoman, and now she's fleeing a plague and trying to link
up with the transport fleet. And then? My guess is, we're on
our way back to Genabackis, or maybe the Korel Peninsula.
    It's more of the same 'cause that's what soldiers do, that's
how soldiers live.'
    'I think you're wrong,' Kalam said. 'It's all snarled, now.'
    'What do you mean?'
    'Pearl's the key, sapper,' the assassin said. 'Why is he still
around? What's the point of spying on the Adjunct? What's
the point of dogging the Fourteenth's heels? I'm telling you,
Fid, what the Adjunct does next depends on Empress
Laseen, her and nobody else.'
    'She won't cut us all loose,' Fiddler said. 'Not the
Adjunct, not the Fourteenth. We're her only mobile army
worthy of the name. There ain't no more commanders out
there – well, there are, but the only salute I'd give 'em is
point first. Bloody or not, Tavore's put an end to the
rebellion here, and that's got to count for something.'
    'Fid,' Quick Ben said, 'the war's a lot bigger than you
might think, and it's just starting. There's no telling which
side the Empress is on.'
    'What in Hood's name are you talking about?'
    Apsalar spoke. 'A war among the gods, Sergeant.
Captain Paran talked of such a war, at length—'
    Both Kalam and Quick Ben turned at this.
    'Ganoes Paran?' the assassin asked. 'Quick said he left
him in Darujhistan. What's he to do with all of this? And
when did you speak with him?'
    She was leading her horse by the reins three paces
behind Fiddler; in the saddle sat three children, dull-eyed
in the heat. At Kalam's questions she shrugged, then said,
'He is Master of the Deck of Dragons. In that capacity, he
has come here, to Seven Cities. We were north of Raraku
when we parted ways. Kalam Mekhar, I have no doubt that
you and Quick Ben are in the midst of yet another scheme.
For what it is worth, I would advise caution. Too many
unknown forces are in this game, and among them will be
found Elder Gods and, indeed, Elder Races. Perhaps you
believe you comprehend the ultimate stakes, but I suggest
that you do not—'
    'And you do?' Quick Ben demanded.
    'Not entirely, but then, I have constrained my ... goals
... seeking only what is achievable.'
    'Now you got me curious,' Fiddler said. 'Here you are,
marching with us once again, Apsalar, when I'd figured
you'd be settled in some coastal village back in Itko Kan,
knitting greasy sweaters for your da. Maybe you left Crokus
behind, but it seems to me you ain't left nothing
else behind.'
    'We travel this same road,' she said, 'for the moment.
Sergeant, you need fear nothing from me.'
    'And what about the rest of us?' Quick Ben asked.
    She did not reply.
    Sudden unease whispered through Kalam. He met
Quick's eyes for a brief moment, then faced forward
once more. 'Let's just catch up with that damned army
first.'
    'I'd like to see Pearl disposed of,' Quick Ben said.
    No-one spoke for a long moment. It wasn't often that the
wizard voiced his desire so ... brazenly, and Kalam realized,
with a chill, that things were getting bad. Maybe even
desperate. But it wasn't that easy. Like that rooftop in
Darujhistan – invisible enemies on all sides – you look and look
but see nothing.
    Pearl, who was once Salk Elan. Mockra warren ... and a
blade sliding like fire into my back. Everyone thinks Topper's the
master in the Claw, but I wonder ... can you take him,
Kalam? Quick's got his doubts – he's just offered to help. Gods
below, maybe I am getting old. 'You never answered me,
friend,' the assassin said to Quick Ben.
    'What was the question again?'
    'Ever get tired of your own memories?'
    'Oh, that one.'
    'Well?'
    'Kalam, you have no idea.'
     
    Fiddler didn't like this conversation. In fact, he hated it,
and was relieved as everyone fell silent once more, walking
the dusty track, every step pushing that damned ruin of a
city further behind them. He knew he should be back in
the column, with his squad, or maybe up ahead, trying to
pry stuff loose from Faradan Sort – that captain was full of
surprises, wasn't she just. She'd