A Malazan Book of the Fallen Collection 4

rationality.
Consequences thinned to ethereal ghosts, snatched in
with the first gasp and flung away in the next. Only the
moment mattered.
    He made no effort to disguise himself, no effort to
mask the destination of his journey, and he well knew
how the locals around the warehouse watched him, with
that glittering regard that was envy and disgust and
amusement in equal parts; much as they had watched
Challice perhaps only moments earlier, although in her
case lust probably warred with all the other emotions.
No, this affair was a brazen thing, and that in itself
somehow made it all the more erotic.
    There was heat in his mind as he used his key to open
the office door, and when he stepped within he could smell
her perfume in the dusty air. Through the office and into
the cavernous warehouse interior, and then to the wooden
steps leading to the loft.
    She must have heard his ascent, for she was standing
facing the door when he arrived.
    Something in her eyes stopped him.
    'You have to save me,' she said.
    'What has happened?'
    'Promise you'll save me, my love. Promise!'
    He managed a step forward. 'Of course. What's—'
    'He knows.'
    The heat of desire evaporated. He was suddenly cold
inside.
    Challice drew closer and in her face he saw an expression
he struggled to identify, and when he did the cold
turned into ice. She is . . . excited.
    'He will kill you. And me. He'll kill us both, Crokus!'
    'As is his right—'
    In her eyes a sudden fear, and she fixed him with it for
a long moment before turning round. 'Maybe you have no
problem with dying,' she hissed as she walked to the bed,
where she faced him again. 'But I have!'
    'What do you want me to do?'
    'You know what to do.'
    'What we should do,' he said, 'is run. Take what you can
and let's just run. Find some other city—'
    'No! I don't want to leave here! I like it here! I like the
way I live, Crokus!'
    'It was just a day or two ago, Challice, that you were
lying in my arms and talking about escaping—'
    'Just dreams – that wasn't real. I mean, the dream wasn't
real. Wasn't realistic – just a stupid dream. You can't take
any notice of what I say after we've . . . been together. I just
come out with any old thing. Crokus, we're in trouble. We
have to do something – we have to do it now.'
    You just come out with any old thing, do you, Challice? But
it's only after we've been together that you say you love me.
    'He'll kill me,' she whispered.
    'That doesn't sound like the Gorlas you've been describing.'
    She sat down on the bed. 'He confronted me. Yesterday.'
    'You didn't mention—'
    She shook her head. 'It seemed, well, it seemed it was just
the usual game. He said he wanted to know about you, and
I said I'd tell him when he got back – he's at the mines right
now. And then, and then, walking here just now – O gods!
I suddenly understood! Don't you see? He was asking about
the man he planned to kill!'
    'So he plans to kill me. What of it, Challice?'
    She bared her teeth, and it was an expression so brutal,
so ugly, that Cutter was shocked. 'I said I understood . First
you. Then he'll come back to me, so he can tell me what
he did to you. In every detail. He will use every word like a
knife – until he pulls out the real one. And then he'll cut
my throat.' She looked up at him. 'Is that what you want?
Does his killing me matter to you, Crokus?'
    'He won't kill you—'
    'You don't know him!'
    'It sounds as if you don't, either.' At her glare, he added,
'Look, assume he'll take pleasure in killing me, and he will.
And then, even more pleasure in telling you all about it
– yes? We're agreed on that?'
    She nodded, a single motion, tight.
    'But if he then kills you, what has he got? Nothing. No,
he'll want you to do it again, with someone else. Over and
over again, and each time it'll turn out the same – he kills
your lover, he tells you about it. He doesn't want all that to
end. The man's a duellist, right, one who likes killing his
opponents. This way, he can lawfully do it to as many men
as you care to collect, Challice. He wins, you win—'
    'How can you say I win !'
    '—because,' he finished, 'neither of you gets bored.'
    She stared at him as if he had just kicked in some
invisible door hidden inside her. And then recovered. 'I
don't want you to die, Crokus. Cutter – I keep forgetting.
It's Cutter now. A dangerous name. An assassin's name.
Careful, or someone might think there's something real
behind it.'
    'Which is it, Challice? You don't want