A Malazan Book of the Fallen Collection 4

is so very rare these days.'
    'So when it arrives,' Antsy snapped, 'you treat it like dirt?
Do you think maybe there's a connection atwixt the two,
you hoary lich?'
    'Like dirt? I think not. More like . . . with amiable contempt.'
    'You got a few things to learn about people, Jaghut.'
    'Undoubtedly, Sergeant Antsy. Alas, I find myself disinclined
to make any effort in that direction.'
    'Oh? And what direction do you make your efforts in?'
    'When I discover one I will let you know, if it proves
of any interest – to either me or, of course, you. In the
meantime, I have no idea if communication is possible
with Ganoes Paran. Perhaps if you informed me of your
present crisis, I might be able to assist you in some way
that does not involve precipitous, desperate acts that might
ultimately inconvenience me.'
    'Hood forbid we do that,' snarled Antsy.
    'Hood is not one to forbid much of anything,' Raest
observed.
    'Can't think he much likes these Azath Houses,' Picker
said, having recovered from her shock and irritation and,
perhaps, indignation. 'All this trapping of souls and things
like you, Raest.'
    'I doubt I rate highly on Hood's wish list,' the undead
Jaghut replied.
    Antsy grunted a laugh. 'All right, I'm finally working
out your sense of humour. And I thought Malazan marines
were dry, Abyss below! Fine, Raest, let's play this game for
real. If you can help us with our problem, we'll do something
for you in return. If it's within our abilities, that is, so
nothing like "get me outa here" or anything like that. But,
you know, other stuff.'
    'I do have a modest request. Very well, I accept the
reciprocal engagement.'
    Antsy grinned across at Picker, and then said to Raest,
'It's this. Someone's taken out a contract on us. We don't
know why. We're thinking maybe Paran can work out who
and what's got 'em so aggravated.'
    The Jaghut stared.
    Picker cleared her throat. 'Possible causes. One, we're
Malazans. Veterans. We've made more than a few enemies
on this continent. Two, we own K'rul's Bar, which used
to be K'rul's Belfry, which used to be K'rul's Temple. In
the cellar we just found twelve pickled Seguleh, maybe
centuries old, but looking fresh. Since they're, er, pickled.'
She paused, drew a breath, and then continued, 'Three,
well, I ain't got to three yet. The way I figure it, it's all got
to do with K'rul – maybe some cultists want the temple
back. Maybe someone put in an order for pickled Seguleh
and wants 'em delivered.'
    Antsy stared at her. 'Someone did what? Pick, that's the
stupidest idea I've ever heard.'
    'I wouldn't argue with that,' she said, 'only I'm desperate,
and besides, I got a hunch those Seguleh are part of the
problem.'
    Antsy looked to Raest. 'So there it is. Got any suggestions
or are you just going to stand there for ever?'
    'Yes I am,' Raest replied, 'but that detail is not relevant.
As for suggestions, I suggest you kill every assassin in the
city.'
    'Then whoever wants us dead just starts hiring thugs,'
Picker said.
    'Kill all thugs.'
    Antsy tugged at his moustache. 'Ain't practical. There's
only three of us left – it'd take years.'
    'Kidnap the Guild Master and torture him or her to
reveal the client. Then kill the client.'
    'Killing the client makes sense to us,' Picker said,
nodding. 'The kidnapping thing doesn't sound very feasible
– we'd have to carve through a few hundred assassins to
do it. Besides, we don't know where the Guild Master's
hideout is. We could capture and torture an assassin to find
that out, but they probably operate in cells which means
whoever we get might not know a thing. The point is, we
don't know who the client is. We need to find out.'
    Raest said, 'Your suspicion that the K'rul Temple is
central to this matter is probably accurate. Determining
the specifics, however, would best be served by enlisting the
assistance of the Master of the Deck.'
    'That's what we wanted in the first place!' Antsy
shouted.
    'Extraordinary, isn't it?'
    Antsy glared up at the infuriating lich, bit down a few
retorts that might prove unwise. He drew a deep breath to
calm himself, and then said in a nice, quiet tone, 'So let's
see if we can send him a message, shall we?'
    'Follow me,' Raest said.
    Back into the corridor, turning right, five strides to a narrow
door on the left that led into the squat round tower, up the
spiral staircase, arriving into the upper level – a circular
room with the walls bearing oversized painted renditions
of the cards of the Deck of Dragons.