A Malazan Book of the Fallen Collection 4

the
muck.
    Quell and Gruntle scrambled over the wall and raced
for them.
    Glanno Tarp was shrieking something, his words unintelligible
as he sought to crawl away from the scrap.
    From the Jaghut woman sorcery erupted, a thundering,
deafening detonation that lit up the entire corral and all
the buildings nearby. Blinking against the sudden blindness,
Gruntle staggered in the mud. He heard Quell fall
beside him. The coruscating, actinic light continued to
bristle, throwing everything into harsh shadows.
    Glanno Tarp resumed his shrieks.
    As vision returned, Gruntle saw, to his astonishment,
that both Boles still lived. In fact, they had each pinned
down an arm and were holding tight as the Jaghut woman
thrashed and snarled.
    Drawing his cutlasses, Gruntle made his way over. 'Jula!
Amby! What are you doing?'
    Two mud-smeared faces looked up, and their expressions
were dark, twisted with anger.
    'A swamp witch!' Jula said. 'She's one of them swamp
witches!'
    'We don't like swamp witches!' added Amby. 'We kill swamp witches!'
    'Master Quell said this one can help us,' said Gruntle.
'Or she would have, if not for you two jumping her like
that!'
    'Cut her head off!' said Jula. 'That usually works!'
    'I'm not cutting her head off. Let her go, you two—'
    'She'll attack us!'
    Gruntle crouched down. 'Jaghut – stop snarling – listen
to me! If they let you go, will you stop fighting?'
    Eyes burned as if aflame. She struggled some more, and
then ceased all motion. The blazing glare dimmed, and
after a few deep, rattling breaths, she nodded. 'Very well.
Now get these two fools off me!'
    'Jula, Amby – let go of her—'
    'We will, once you cut her head off!'
    'Do it now, Boles, or I will cut your heads off.'
    'Do Amby first!'
    'No, Jula first!'
    'I've got two cutlasses here, boys, so I'll do it at the same
time. How does that suit you?'
    The Boles half lifted themselves up and glared across at
each other.
    'We don't like it,' said Amby.
    'So leave off her, then.'
    They rolled to the sides, away from the Jaghut woman,
and she pulled her arms loose and clambered to her feet.
The penumbra of sorcery dimmed, winked out. Breathing
hard, she spun to face the Bole brothers, who'd rolled in
converging arcs until they collided and were now crouched
side by side in the mud, eyeing her like a pair of wolves.
    Clutching his head, Master Quell stumbled up to them.
'You idiots,' he gasped. 'Jaghut, your husband's cursed
this village. Tralka Vonan. Can you do anything about
that?'
    She was trying to wipe the mud from her rotted clothes.
'You're not from around here,' she said. 'Who are you
people?'
    'Just passing through,' Quell said. 'But our carriage needs
repairs – and we got wounded—'
    'I am about to destroy this village and everyone in it
– does that bother you?'
    Quell licked his muddy lips, made a face, and then
said, 'That depends if you're including us in your plans of
slaughter.'
    'Are you pirates?'
    'No.'
    'Wreckers?'
    'No.'
    'Necromancers?'
    'No.'
    'Then,' she said, with another glare at the Boles, 'I suppose
you can live.'
    'Your husband says even if he dies, the curse will
persist.'
    She bared stained tusks. 'He's lying.'
    Quell glanced at Gruntle, who shrugged in return and
said, 'I'm not happy with the idea of pointless slaughter, but
then, wreckers are the scum of humanity.'
    The Jaghut woman walked towards the stone wall. They
watched her.
    'Master Quell,' said Glanno Tarp, 'got any splints?'
    Quell shot Gruntle another look. 'Told you, the cheap
bastard.'
    At last the sun rose, lifting a rim of fire above the
horizon on this the last day of the wrecker village on the
Reach of Woe.
    From a window of the tower, Bedusk Pall Kovuss Agape
stood watching his wife approaching up the street. 'Oh,' he
murmured, 'I'm in trouble now.'
    In the moments before dawn, Kedeviss rose from her
blankets and walked out into the darkness. She could
make out the shape of him, sitting on a large boulder and
staring northward. Rings spun on chains, glittering like
snared stars.
    Her moccasins on the gravel scree gave her away and she
saw him twist round to watch her approach.
    'You no longer sleep,' she said.
    To this observation, Clip said nothing.
    'Something has happened to you,' she continued. 'When
you awoke in Bastion, you were . . . changed. I thought it
was some sort of residue from the possession. Now, I am
not so sure.'
    He put away the chain and rings and then slid down
from the boulder, landing lightly and taking a moment