A Malazan Book of the Fallen Collection 3

most pernicious weed ... especially when
people like you do nothing.'
    'Every garden I have tended is either dead or wild,
Emperor.'
    'Why did you agree to be Quick Ben's shaved knuckle in
the hole, Tayschrenn?'
    The High Mage blinked in surprise.
    'And why didn't he call on you when I sent him into that
nightmare?'
    'I would have been disappointed indeed,' Tayschrenn
slowly said, 'had he called on me so soon. As I said earlier,
Emperor, I hold to the long view on matters of this realm.'
    'Why didn't D'rek kill you?'
    'She tried.'
    'What?'
    'I talked her out of it.'
    'Abyss take me, how I hate you!'
    'Even gods must learn to control their tempers,'
Tayschrenn said, 'lest they set a bad example.'
    'You said that to D'rek?'
    'I am saying that to you, Shadowthrone.'
    'My temper is fine! I am perfectly calm – seething with
fury and hatred, mind you, but calm!'
    Neither spoke for a time after that, until the god murmured,
'My poor Wickans ...'
    'They are not as vulnerable as you fear, Emperor. They
will have Nil and Nether. They will have Temul, and when
Temul is old, decades from now, he will have a young
warrior to teach, whose name shall be Coltaine.' He
clasped his hands behind his back, frowning down at the
smoke-wreathed city as the first greying of dawn
approached. 'If you would fear,' he said, 'fear for your own
child.'
    'I fear nothing—'
    'Liar. You heard Temper step out of Coop's – and you
fled.'
    'Expedience!'
    'Unquestionably.'
    'You're in a nest of vipers here – I am happy to leave you
to it.'
    Tayschrenn sketched a modest bow. 'Emperor. Please
convey my greetings to Cotillion.'
    'Tell him yourself, if you dare.'
    'It was not me who stole Kalam from him – tell me, does
the assassin live?'
    'He's in the Deadhouse – isn't that answer enough?'
    'Not really.'
    'I know!' Shadowthrone cackled in glee, then vanished like
    mist in the wind.
     
    The morning was bright, the sun already warm, as the
Master Investigator paused outside the Imperial Domicile
in the city of Kartool. He adjusted his uniform, ensuring
that every wrinkle was smoothed away. Then he licked the
palms of his hands and carefully, tenderly, eased back his
unruly hair – unruly in his own mind, at least. A last glance
down at his boots, reassured by their unmarred polish, then
he smartly ascended the steps and entered the squat
building.
    A nod rather than an answering salute to the guards
stationed just within, then down the hallway to the door of
the Commander's office. A knock, sharp and sure, and,
upon hearing a muffled invitation to enter, he opened the
door and marched inside, halting before the desk, behind
which sat the Commander.
    Who now looked up, and scowled. 'All right, you
pompous ass, let's have it.'
    The slight deflation was involuntary on the Master
Investigator's part, but he managed to mask it as best as
possible. 'I have the following to report, sir, regarding the
investigation I rigorously undertook on the mysterious
deaths of the acolytes and priests of the temple dedicated to
D'rek on the Street of—'
    'Will you shut up! You want to report your conclusions,
yes? Then do just that!'
    'Of course, sir. Given lack of evidence to the contrary,
sir, only one conclusion is possible. The devotees of D'rek
have, one and all, committed a thorough orgy of suicide in
the span of a single night.'
    Lizard eyes regarded him for an uncomfortably long time.
Then he said, 'Sergeant Hellian, the original investigator,
said precisely the same thing.'
    'Clearly a perceptive woman, sir.'
    'A drunk. I shipped her to the Fourteenth.'
    'The ... Fourteenth ... ?'
    'Write up your conclusions,' the Commander then said,
'and close the investigation. Now get out of here.'
    The Master Investigator saluted and escaped with as
much dignity as he could manage. Along the corridor,
another nod to the guards, then out through the main
doors, onto the landing, then down the steps.
    Where he paused, looked up. The sunlight was glistening
from the magnificent webs of the paralt spiders now
resident in the towers of Kartool. A skein of crystal beauty,
scintillating like threads of diamond against the stunning
blue sky.
    Optimism returning, he sighed, deciding that he had
never before seen such a wondrous, breathtaking sight.
And so he set off with a lighter step, boots ringing smartly
on the cobbles.
    While a score of huge spiders, crouched in their small
caves dug into the walls of the towers, looked with cold,
multifaceted eyes. Looked down upon all