A Malazan Book of the Fallen Collection 4

world.
    The day is stripped down, time itself torn away, the present
expanding, swallowing everything in sight. It is an instant
and that instant feels eternal.
    Recall this day's beginning. A single breath, drawn in
with love—
    Bellam Nom took a length of braided hide, made loops at
both ends. He crouched down in front of Mew. 'See this
loop, Mew? Take it in your hands – I'm going to hold on to
the other end, all right? We're going out. You just keep hold
of the rope, all right?'
    Round-eyed Mew nodded.
    'Don't worry,' said Bellam, 'I'll walk slowly.' He then
went to Hinty and picked the girl up, taking her weight in
the crook of his left arm. Her thin arms wrapped about his
neck and her wet nose brushed his cheek. Bellam smiled
down at Mew. 'Ready?'
    Another nod.
    They set out.
    Snell was still with the old bodymonger, and Bellam
had no interest in retrieving him just yet. He had no
idea what had happened to Myrla and Bedek, but he left
a message scrawled out with charcoal on the surface of
the lone table, telling them where he'd taken Mew and
Hinty.
    Murillio should have been back by now. Bellam was
getting worried. He couldn't wait around any longer.
    They walked slowly through the crowds. Twice Mew was
inadvertently tugged loose from the rope, but both times
Bellam was able to retrieve her. They left the unofficial
neighbourhood slum known as the Trench and after some
time they arrived at the duelling school.
    Bellam set Hinty down in the warm-up area, instructed
Mew to remain with her little sister, then set out to find
Stonny Menackis.
    She was sitting on a stone bench in the shade-swallowed
colonnade running along the back end of the practice yard,
her long legs stretched out, her eyes on nothing. When she
heard him approach she glanced up. 'Classes cancelled. Go
away.'
    'I'm not here for any lessons,' Bellam said, surprised at
the harsh judgement in his own voice.
    'Get out,' she said, 'before I beat you senseless.'
    'Too many people, Stonny, are stepping in for you, doing
what you're supposed to be doing. It's not fair.'
    She scowled. 'What are you talking about?'
    'Murillio hasn't come back?'
    'Everybody leaves.'
    'He found Harllo.'
    'What?'
    He saw interest flaring to life in her dark eyes. 'He found
him, Stonny. Working in a mining camp. He went to get
him back. But he hasn't returned. Something's happened,
something bad – I can feel it.'
    She stood. 'Where is this camp? How did he end up
there?'
    'Snell.'
    She stared. 'I'm going to kill that little bastard.'
    'No, you're not. He's taken care of. We've got a new
problem.'
    At that moment a small figure stepped into the corridor,
stared at them.
    Stonny frowned. 'Mew? Where's your ma and da?
Where's Hinty?'
    Mew started crying, and then rushed towards Stonny
who had no choice but to take the child into her arms.
    'They've gone missing,' said Bellam. 'I was taking care of
them, waiting, but they never showed up. Stonny, I don't
know what to do with them. I need to get home – my own
parents must be going crazy with worry.'
    She spun round, still holding Mew, and her face was
savage. 'I need to get Harllo! Take them to your home!'
    'No. Enough of this. Take responsibility for them,
Stonny. Once I let my parents know I'm all right, I'll go
and find Murillio. Take responsibility. You owe it to Myrla
and Bedek – they did it for you. For years.'
    He thought she would strike him, saw the fury warring
in her eyes. He stepped back. 'Hinty's in the warm-up,
probably sleeping – she does that a lot. Oh, and they're
hungry.'
    He left them then.
    It took the words of a young man – no, a boy – to do what
Gruntle could not do. It took a barrage of blunt, honest
words, smashing through, against which she had no real
defence.
    She stood, Mew in her arms, feeling as if her soul had
been blasted open, and all that was left was a hollow shell,
slowly refilling. Refilling with . . . something. 'Oh,' she
whispered, 'Harllo.'
    Shardan Lim was waiting for Challice when she returned
home. He rose from the ornate bench but did not approach,
instead standing, watching her with an odd expression.
    'This,' she said, 'is unexpected.'
    'No doubt. Forgive me for intruding on your . . . busy
schedule.'
    There was no genuine remorse to back his apology, however,
and she felt a trembling of her nerves. 'What do you
want, Councillor?'
    'Are we not past titles, Challice?'
    'That depends.'
    'Perhaps you're right. Even so, after we're done here
there'll be no need for formalities