A Malazan Book of the Fallen Collection 3

million, even. We been
through fires and storms and green lights in the sky and
nights with the shakes and broken jaws and that damned
rhizan piss they called wine. That's Malaz City there, right
there, and that's where I'm going, Corporal Brethy
Touchless, and I don't care how many arms you got, I'm
going and that's that.' She swung about, walked forward,
reached the rail, pitched over and was suddenly gone.
    Brethless and Touchy stared at each other again, as a
heavy splash sounded.
    'Now what?' Touchy demanded.
    'She's done drowned herself, hasn't she?'
    'We'd better report it to somebody.'
    'We do that and we're in real trouble. We was standing
right here, after all. They'll say we pushed her.'
    'But we didn't!'
    'That don't matter. We're not even trying to save her, are
we?'
    'I can't swim!'
    'Me neither.'
    'Then we should shout an alarm or something.'
    'You do it.'
    'No, you.'
    'Maybe we should just go below, tell people we went
looking for her but we didn't never find her.'
    At that they both paused and looked round. A few
figures moving in the gloom, sailors doing sailor things.
    'Nobody saw or heard nothing.'
    'Looks like. Well, that's good.'
    'Isn't it. So, we go below now, right? Throw up our hands
and say nothing.'
    'Not nothing. We say we couldn't find her nowhere.'
    'Right, that's what I mean. Nothing is what I mean, I
mean, about her going over the side, that sort of nothing.'
    A new voice from behind them: 'You two, what are you
doing on deck?'
    Both corporals turned. 'Nothing,' they said in unison.
    'Get below, and stay there.'
    They hurried off.
     
    'Three ashore,' the young, foppishly attired figure said, his
eyes fixed on the knuckle dice where they came to a rest on
the weathered stone.
    His twin stood facing the distant, looming bulk of
Mock's Hold, the night's wind caressing the gaudy silks
about her slim form.
    'You see how it plays out?' her brother asked, collecting
the dice with a sweep of one hand. 'Tell me truly, have you
any idea – any idea at all – of how mightily I struggled to
retain our card during that horrendous game? I'm still weak,
dizzy. He wanted to drag us out, again and again and again.
It was horrifying.'
    'Heroic indeed,' she murmured without turning.
    'Three ashore,' he said again. 'How very ... unexpected.
Do you think that dreadful descent above Otataral Island
was responsible? I mean, for the one that's even now on its
way?' Straightening, he moved to join his sister.
    They were standing on a convenient tower rising from
the city of Malaz, south of the river. To most citizens of the
city, the tower appeared to be in ruins, but that was an
illusion, maintained by the sorcerer who occupied its lower
chambers, a sorcerer who seemed to be sleeping. The twin
god and goddess known as Oponn had the platform – and
the view – entirely to themselves.
    'Certainly possible,' she conceded, 'but is that not the
charm of our games, beloved?' She gestured towards the bay
to their right. 'They have arrived, and even now there is a
stirring among those abject mortals in those ships,
especially the Silanda. Whilst, in the fell Hold opposite, the
nest slithers awake. There will be work for us, this night.'
    'Oh yes. Both you and me. Pull, push, pull, push.' He
rubbed his hands together. 'I can hardly wait.'
    She faced him suddenly. 'Can we be so sure, brother, that
we comprehend all the players? All of them? What if one
hides from us? Just one ... wild, unexpected, so very
terrible ... we could end up in trouble. We could end up
... dead.'
    'It was that damned soldier,' her brother snarled.
'Stealing our power! The arrogance, to usurp us in our very
own game! I want his blood!'
    She smiled in the darkness. 'Ah, such fire in your voice.
So be it. Cast the knuckles, then, on his fate. Go on. Cast them!'
    He stared across at her, then grinned. Whirled about,
one hand flinging out and down – knuckles struck,
bounced, struck again, then spun and skidded, and finally
fell still.
    The twins, breathing hard in perfect unison, hurried
over and crouched down to study the cast.
    And then, had there been anyone present to see them,
they would have witnessed on their perfect faces bemused
expressions. Frowns deepening, confusion reigning in
immortal eyes, and, before this night was done, pure terror.
    The non-existent witness would then shake his or her
head. Never, dear gods. Never mess with mortals.
     
    'Grub and three friends, playing in a cave. A Soletaken
with a stolen sword. Togg and