A Malazan Book of the Fallen Collection 3

us these things?'
    'Because your investments have to remain separate, disconnected. There can be no comparable pattern. Thus, follow his instructions with precision. It will all come clear eventually.'
    'I hate geniuses.'
    'Understandable. All he does seems to confound, it's true. One gets used to it.'
    'And how is Bugg's Construction doing?'
    'Well enough.'
    'What's the purpose of it, anyway? Just to make money?'
    'No. The intention is to acquire the contract for the Eternal Domicile.'
    Shand stared. 'Why?'
    Bugg smiled.
    Disinfecting, bleaching, scraping, combing. Fragrant oils rubbed into clothing and skin. Preserving oils rubbed in everywhere else. Scouring flushes of eyes, nose, ears and mouth. Then it was time for the pump.
    At which point Tehol staggered outside for some air.
    The sky was paling to the east, the city's less sane denizens already risen and venturing out onto the streets. Clattering carts on the cobbles. Somewhere a rooster crowed, only to have its exuberant cry cut off into strangled silence. A dog barked happily.
    Footsteps, halting to Tehol's right. 'You still here?'
    'Ah, Selush's assistant. And how are you this grisly morning, Padderunt?'
    The old man's expression was eternally sour, but at Tehol's courteous enquiry it seemed to implode into a wrinkled mess. 'How am I? Sleepless! That's how I am, y'damned snake! They still in there? It's a lost cause, I say. A lost cause. Just like you, Tehol Beddict. I knew your mother – what would she say seeing you now?'
    'You knew her corpse, you old fool. Before that we'd never met you.'
    'Think she didn't tell me all about herself anyway? Think I can't see what's there to be seen? The soul inside shapes the flesh. Oh, she talked to me all right.'
    Tehol's brows rose. 'The soul inside shapes the flesh?' He stared down at the wrinkled prune face glaring up at him. 'Oh my.'
    'Oh, that's a cutting remark, is it? True enough, here's what happens when a decent man gets no sleep!'
    A small clay pot exploded on the cobbles between them, followed by a furious shout from a window in the building opposite.
    'There!' Padderunt cried, hand to his head as he staggered in circles. 'Make of our neighbours vicious enemies! You don't live here, do you?'
    'Calm down,' Tehol said. 'I simply asked how you were this morning, in case you've forgotten. Your reply was supposed to be equally inane and nondescript. If I'd wanted a list of your ailments – well, I wouldn't. Who would? Innocuous civility is what was expected, Padderunt. Not foul invective.'
    'Oh really? Well, how am I supposed to know that? Come on, there's a place nearby makes great grain cakes. And rustleaf tea, which can wake the dead.'
    The two made their way down the street.
    'Have you tried it?' Tehol asked.
    'Tried what?'
    'Waking the dead with rustleaf tea.'
    'Should've worked.'
    'But, alas, it didn't.'
    'Still should've. The stuff doubles your heart rate and makes you heave everything in your stomach.'
    'I can't wait.'
    'Until you get used to it. Makes a fine insect killer, too. Just splash it on the floor and in cracks and such. I can't recommend it highly enough.'
    'Most people smoke rustleaf, not drink it.'
    'Barbarians. Here we are. You're buying, right?'
    'With what?'
    'Then it goes on Selush's account, meaning you just have to pay later.'
    'Fine.'
    Shurq Elalle stood in front of the long silver mirror. Instinct had her gauging the worth of all that silver for a moment before she finally focused on the reflected image. A healthy pallor to her skin, her cheeks glowing with vigour. Her hair was clean and had been cut for the first time in years, scented with a hint of patchouli oil. The whites of her eyes were clear, a wet gleam reflecting from her pupils.
    The rotted leathers and linen of her clothing had been replaced with black silks beneath a short black calf-hide jacket. A new weapons belt, tanned leggings and high boots. Tight leather gloves. 'I look like a whore.'
    'Not any old whore, though, right?' Selush said.
    'True, I'll take your coin then kill you. That's how I look.'
    'There are plenty of men out there who'll go for that, you know.'
    'Getting killed?'
    'Absolutely. In any case, I was led to believe that wasn't your profession. Although I suppose you might feel inclined to try something new – how does the ootooloo feel, by the way?'
    'Hungry. Can't I feed it, uh, something else?'
    Selush's eyes sparkled. 'Experimentation, that's the spirit!'
    Some comments, the undead woman