A Malazan Book of the Fallen Collection 3

fighting from the alley, Kalam pushed
himself to his feet, paused to ease free the knife in his side,
cursing at the blood that gushed in the wake of the blade.
He collected the snagged long-knife, then staggered into
the alley.
    Only three Claws remained, and T'amber had engaged
two of them, driving both back, step by step, into Kalam's
path.
    He moved up, thrust once, then twice, and two bodies
writhed at his feet. T'amber had already turned and rushed
to take the last assassin from behind, crushing the skull
with the edge of her sword.
    One of the Claws below heaved to one side, lifting a
weapon – Kalam stamped his heel into the assassin's neck.
    Sudden silence beyond the gasping of breaths.
    He stared at the two women. T'amber was a mass of
wounds – frothy blood was streaming from her nose and
mouth and he saw the shuddering, frantic rise and fall of
her chest. Grimacing against his own pain, Kalam turned to
study the street he had just left.
    Bodies moving here and there, but none seemed inclined
to renew the fight.
    The Adjunct moved up beside him. Blood had splashed
her face, mingling with grimy sweat. 'Kalam Mekhar. I
watch you. It seems ...' She shook her head. 'It seems you
move faster than them. And for all their training, their
skills, they cannot keep up with you.'
    He wiped stinging sweat from his eyes. His hands,
clenching the grips of the long-knives, ached, but he could
not relax them. 'It all slows down, Adjunct,' he said in a
rumble. 'In my mind, they just slow down.' He shook himself,
forcing loose the muscles of his back and shoulders. He
had managed to stem the bleeding, although he could feel
the heat of blood down the outside of his leg, beneath the
heavy cloth, forming a glue between the fabric and his skin.
He was exhausted, a sour taste on his tongue. 'We can't
stop,' he said. 'There's plenty more. We're close to Admiral
Bridge, almost there.'
    'There?'
    'The Mouse.'
    'I hear riots – there's fires there, and smoke, Kalam.'
    He nodded. 'Aye. Confusion. That's good.' He glanced
back at T'amber. She was leaning with her back against a
wall, sheathed in blood, her eyes closed. Kalam lowered his
voice. 'Adjunct, she needs healing, before it's too late.'
    But T'amber heard. Eyes opening, a gleam like tiger-eyes,
and she straightened. 'I'm ready.'
    The Adjunct took a half-step towards her lover, then was
forced to turn as T'amber moved past her to the alley mouth.
    Kalam saw the anguish in Tavore's gaze, and he looked
away.
    And saw thirty or more Claws shimmer into view not
forty paces up the street. 'Shit! Run!'
    They emerged from the alley and set off. Kalam slowed
his pace to allow the Adjunct past him. Somehow, T'amber
stayed ahead of them, taking point. There'll be another
ambush. Waiting for us. She'll stumble right into it —
    Behind them, the assassins were in full pursuit, the faster
sprinters among them closing the distance. Beyond the
sound of soft footfalls, the thump of boots, and a chorus of
fierce gasps, it seemed the cobbles beneath them, the buildings
to either side, and even the lowering sky overhead, all
conspired to close in upon them – upon this desperate
scene – deadening the air, making it thicker, muffled. If
eyes witnessed, the faces quickly turned away. If there were
figures in the alleys they passed, they melted back into the
darkness.
    The street angled westward, now opposite Raven Hill
Park. Up ahead it would link up with another street that
bordered the park on the west side, before striking southward
to the bridge. As they neared that intersection, Kalam
saw T'amber suddenly shift direction, leading them into an
alley on the left, and then he saw the reason for the unexpected
detour – more Hands, massing in the intersection,
and now surging forward.
    They're herding us. To the bridge. What's waiting for us on
the other side?
    The alley widened into something like a street just past
the first flanking buildings, and directly before them
was the low wall encircling the park.
    T'amber slowed, as if unsure whether to skirt that wall to
the left or the right, then she staggered, lifting her sword as
attackers closed in on her from both sides.
    The Adjunct cried out.
    Blades clashed, a body tumbled to one side, the others
swarming round T'amber – Kalam saw two knives sink into
the woman's torso, yet still she remained on her feet, slashing
out with her sword. As Tavore reached them –
thrusting her otataral blade into the side of an assassin's
head, a