A Malazan Book of the Fallen Collection 4

what
you're looking for. Besides,' he added, 'what ails him isn't
entirely natural.'
    Silchas Ruin, facing the trail they would climb this day,
said, 'He speaks true. Old sorcery fills this fetid air.'
    'What kind?' Seren asked.
    'It is fragmented. Perhaps . . . K'Chain Che'Malle – they
rarely used their magic in ways easily understood. Never in
battle. I do recall something . . . necromantic.'
    'And is that what this is?'
    'I cannot say, Acquitor.'
    'So why is Udinaas the one afflicted? What about the
rest of us?'
    No-one ventured a response, barring another broken
laugh from Udinaas.
    Rings clacked. 'I have made my suggestion,' Clip said.
    Again, the conversation seemed to die. Kettle walked
over to stand close to Udinaas, as if conferring protection.
    The small campfire was finally alight, if feebly so. Seren
collected a tin pot and set out to find some clean snow,
which should have been a simple enough task. But the
rotted patches were foul with detritus. Smears of decaying
vegetation, speckled layers of charcoal and ash, the
carcasses of some kind of ice-dwelling worm or beetle,
wood and pieces of countless animals. Hardly palatable.
She was surprised they weren't all sick.
    She halted before a long, narrow stretch of ice-crusted
snow that filled a crack or fold in the rock. She drew her
knife, knelt down and began pecking at it. Chunks broke
away. She examined each one, discarding those too discoloured
with filth, setting the others into the pot. Not
much like normal glaciers – those few she had seen up
close. After all, they were made of successive snowfalls as
much as creeping ice. Those snowfalls normally produced
relatively pristine strata. But here, it was as if the air
through which the snow fell had been thick with drifting
refuse, clogging every descending flake. Air thick with smoke, ash, pieces of once living things. What could have done that? If just ash then she could interpret it as the result of
some volcanic eruption. But not damned fragments of skin and meat. What secret hides in these mountains?
    She managed to dig the knife-point deep into the ice,
then settled her weight on it. The entire remaining slab of
ice lifted suddenly, prised away from the crack. And there,
lying beneath it, a spear.
    The shaft, long as Seren was tall, was not wood.
Polished, mottled amber and brown, it looked almost . . .
scaled. The broad head was of one piece, blade and stem,
ground jade, milky smooth and leaf-shaped. No obvious
glue or binding held the socket onto the shaft.
    She pulled the weapon loose. The scaled texture, she saw,
was created by successive, intricate layering of horn, which
explained the mottled appearance. Again, she could discern
no indication of how the layers were fixed. The spear was
surprisingly heavy, as if the shaft had mineralized.
    A voice spoke behind her. 'Now that is an interesting
find.'
    She turned, studied Clip's mocking expression, and felt a
flash of irritation. 'In the habit of following people around,
Clip?'
    'No, mostly I lead them. I know, that task serves
to push you to one side. Leaves you feeling useless.'
    'Any other bright observations you want to make?'
    He shrugged, spinning the damned chain back and forth.
'That spear you found. It's T'lan Imass.'
    'Is that supposed to mean something to me?'
    'It will.'
    'It's not a weapon you fight with, is it?'
    'No. And I don't hide in trees and throw fruit either.'
    She frowned.
    He laughed, turning away. 'I was born in Darkness,
Acquitor.'
    'And?'
    He paused, glanced back at her. 'Why do you think I am
the Mortal Sword of the Black-Winged Lord? My good
looks? My charming personality? My skill with these blades
here?'
    'Well,' she replied, 'you've just exhausted my list of
reasons.'
    'Ha ha. Hear me. Born in Darkness. Blessed by our
Mother. The first in thousands of years – she turned away,
you know. From her chosen sons. Thousands of years? More
like tens of thousands. But not from me. I can walk the
Darkness, Acquitor.' He waved his chain-spinning hand
back towards the others. 'Not even Silchas Ruin can make
that claim.'
    'Does he know?'
    'No. This is our secret for as long as you choose.'
    'And why would I choose to not tell him this, Clip?'
    'Because I am the only one here who can keep him from
killing you. You and Udinaas – the two he considers most
useless. Indeed, potential enemies.'
    'Enemies? Why would he think that?' She shook her
head in disbelief. 'We're just bugs he can crush underfoot
any time he likes. An