A Malazan Book of the Fallen Collection 4

hidden before – he saw, yes, the flesh
he was lying on.
    A mass of tattoos blanketed every exposed patch of skin,
lines and images crossing from one body to the next, yet
nowhere could he see solid areas – all was made up of intricate,
delicate traceries, patterns within patterns. He saw
borders that dipped and twisted. He saw elongated figures
with stretched faces and misshapen torsos. Not a single
body atop this massive wagon had been exempted – barring
Ditch's own.
    The Tiste Andii must have heard his gasp, for he laughed.
'Imagine yourself hovering . . . oh, say fifteen man-heights
overhead. Fifteen man-heights. Overhead, overhead.
Hovering in the air, just beneath the ceiling of nothingness,
the ceiling of nothingness. Looking down upon all this, all
this, all this. Aye, it looks awry to you from where you crouch,
but from up there, from up there, from up there – you will see
no mounds of flesh, no knobs of skin-stretched bones – you'll
see no shadows at all – only the scene. The scene, yes, laid
flat you'd swear. You'd swear it to every god and goddess you
can think of. Flat! Laid flat, laid flat!'
Ditch struggled to comprehend what he was seeing – he
did not dare attempt what the Tiste Andii had suggested,
fearing the effort would drive him mad; no, he would not
try to imagine himself plucked free of his flesh, his soul
floating somewhere overhead. It was difficult enough to
comprehend the obsession of this creation – a creation by
a blind man. 'You've been up here for a long time,' Ditch
finally said. 'Avoiding getting buried.'
    'Yes and yes. I was among the first on the wagon. Among
the first. Murdered by Draconus, because I sought to wrest
Dragnipur from him – oh, Anomandaris Purake was not
the first to try. I was. I was. I was. And if I had won the
sword, why, my first victim would have been Anomandaris
himself. Is that not a bitter joke, friend? It is, it is.'
    'But this' – Ditch gestured with his one hand – 'it has to
be a recent effort—'
    'No, only the last layer, the last layer, the last layer.'
    'What – what do you use for ink?'
    'Clever question! From the wagon bloodwood,
blackwood, the pitch and the pitch ever leaking out, ever
sweating from the grain.'
    'Could I hover high up, as you say,' asked Ditch, 'what
scene would I see?'
    'Wanderings, Holds, Houses, every god, every goddess,
every spirit worth mentioning. Demon kings and demon
queens. Dragons and Elders – oh, all there, all there. All
there. Is this where you mean to stay, friend? Is this where
you mean to stay?'
    Ditch thought of this creature hunkered up against him,
that bone needle pricking his skin. 'No. I plan on crawling
round, as much as I can, never stopping. Leave me out of
your scene.'
    'You cannot do that! You will ruin everything!'
    'Imagine me invisible, then. Imagine I don't even exist
– I will stay out of your way.'
    The sightless eyes were glistening and the Tiste Andii
was shaking his head again and again.
    'You will not have me,' Ditch said. 'Besides, it will all be
ending soon.'
    'Soon? How soon? How soon? How soon? How soon?'
    'The storm looks to be no more than a league behind
us.'
    'If you will not join the scene,' the Tiste Andii said, 'I
will push you off.'
    'Draconus might not like that.'
    'He will understand. He understands more than you,
more than you, more and more and more than you!'
    'Just let me rest,' said Ditch, 'for a while. I will then climb
back down. I don't want to be up here when the end comes.
I want to be standing. Facing the storm.'
    'Do you really imagine the ritual will awaken all at once?
Do you do you do you? The flower opens soon, but the
night is long, and it will take that long, that long. For the
flower to open. Open in the moment before dawn. Open in
the moment. Draconus chose you – a mage – for the nexus.
I need the nexus. You are the nexus. Lie there, be quiet,
don't move.'
    'No.'
    'I cannot wait long, friend. Crawl about now if you like,
but I cannot wait too long. A league away!'
    'What is your name?' Ditch asked.
    'What matter any of that?'
    'For when I next speak to Draconus.'
    'He knows me.'
    'I don't.'
    'I am Kadaspala, brother to Enesdia who was wife to
Andarist.'
    Andarist. That's one name I recognize. 'You wanted to
murder the brother of your sister's husband?'
    'I did. For what he did to them, what he did to them. For
what he did to them!'
Ditch stared at the anguish in the man's ravaged face.
'Who blinded you, Kadaspala?'
    'It was a gift. A