A Malazan Book of the Fallen Collection 4

blouse.
    Upon seeing Sordiko Qualm and Iskaral Pust the man
rose and bowed to his host. 'Milady, until next time.'
    A second, sketchier bow to the High Priestess and
Iskaral, and then he was walking past.
    Sordiko Qualm entered the circle and positioned herself
to the right of the now vacated chair. To Iskaral Pust's
astonishment (and, a moment later, delight) she curtsied
before her host. 'Lady Envy.'
    'Do sit, my love,' Lady Envy replied. Then, as Iskaral
Pust hovered into view, seeing at last her exquisite face,
so perfect a match to that lovely hair, and the poise of her,
er, pose, there in that spindly chair with her legs crossed
revealing the underside of one shapely thigh just begging
for a caress, she scowled and said, 'Perhaps I should get
a sandbox installed for your foundling, High Priestess?
Somewhere to play and soak up his drool.'
    'We would, alas, have to bury him in it.'
    'Interesting suggestion.'
    Thurule then arrived with another chair. The similarity
between him and the statues was somewhat disquieting,
and Iskaral Pust shivered as he quickly bowed to Lady Envy
then perched himself on the chair.
    'Her beauty challenges even that of the High Priestess!
Why, imagine the two of them—'
    'Iskaral Pust!' snapped Sordiko Qualm. 'I did instruct
you to be quiet, did I not?'
    'But I said nothing, my love! Nothing at all!'
    'I am not your love, nor will I ever be.'
    He smiled, and then said, 'I will play these two beauties
off one another, driving both to spasms of jealousy with
my charm, as it slides so easily from one to the other. Pluck
here, brush there! Oh, this will be such a delight!'
    'I am of a mind to kill him,' said Lady Envy to Sordiko
Qualm.
    'Alas, he is the Magus of Shadow.'
    'You cannot be serious!'
    'Oh yes!' cried Iskaral Pust. 'She is! Furthermore, it is
most propitious that I am here, for I know something you
do not!'
    'Oh, goodness,' sighed Lady Envy. 'A beautiful morning
thus shattered into ruin.'
    'Who was he?' Iskaral demanded. 'That man who was
here? Who was he?'
    'Why should I tell you that?'
    'In exchange – you satisfy my curiosity and I yours – and
so we shall satisfy each other and how do you like that,
Sordiko Qualm? Hah!'
    Lady Envy rubbed at her temples for a moment, as if
overwhelmed, and then said, 'That was the bard, Fisher
kel Tath. A most unusual man. He . . . invites confession.
There have been dire events in the city—'
    'None so dire as what I would tell you!' said Iskaral
Pust.
    And now Sordiko was rubbing at her own brow.
    'It's working!'
    Lady Envy eyed him. 'If I grant you this exchange,
Magus, will you then restrain yourself, thus permitting the
High Priestess and me to conduct our conversation?'
    'My restraint is guaranteed, Lady Envy. Of course, I
make this promise only if you do the same.'
    'Whatever do you mean?'
    'Lady Envy, I arrived on a ship.'
    'What of it?'
    'A ship owned by a most delicious woman—'
    'Oh, not another one!' moaned Sordiko Qualm.
    'The poor thing,' said Lady Envy.
    'Hardly.' Iskaral Pust leaned back in his chair, tilting
it up on its legs so that his view could encompass both
women. 'How I dream of such moments as this! See how
they hang on my every word! I have them, I have them!'
'What is wrong with this man, High Priestess?'
    'I could not begin to tell you.'
    Iskaral Pust examined his hands, his fingernails – but
that made him slightly nauseous, since the bhokarala were
in the habit of sucking on his fingertips when he slept at
night, leaving them permanently wrinkled, mangled and
decidedly unpleasant, so he looked away, casually, and
found himself staring at Thurule, which wasn't a good
idea either, so, over there, at that flower – safe enough, he
supposed – until it was time at last to meet Lady Envy's
extraordinary eyes. 'Yes,' he drawled, 'I see the similarity at
last, although you were the victor in the war of perfection.
Not by much, but triumphant none the less and for that I
can only applaud and admire and all that. In any case, resident
even at this very moment, on the ship, in the harbour,
is none other than your beloved sister, Spite!'
    'I thought so!' Lady Envy was suddenly on her feet,
trembling in her . . . excitement?
    Iskaral Pust sniggered. 'Yes, I play at this until they play no
more, and all truths are revealed, as sensibilities are rocked
back and forth, as shock thunders through the cosmos, as
the shadows themselves explode into all existence! For
am I not the Magus of Shadow? Oh, but I am, I am!'