A huge fist closed about Kiska’s cloak and armour from the rear, lifting her from her feet. ‘What is this?’ Korus boomed. ‘What have you done to him?’
Leoman’s gear fell to the sands as he grasped the demon’s arm. ‘We know nothing of this!’ he yelled.
Kiska stared, horrified. Gods! Have I killed him? Was this the Enchantress’s scheme all along?
Then Tayschrenn screamed. He threw his head back and howled his agony. His back arched as if it would snap. He screamed until his breath failed and he fell limp, immobile.
Kiska did not even struggle as the hand swept her spinning through the air. She crashed into the shingle and tumbled over and over, gouging a trail. Then Leoman was there wiping the sand from her face. ‘Are you all right, girl? Speak to me.’
‘I killed him,’ she moaned. ‘Me! It was to be me all along.’
‘We don’t know …’
A large shadow covered them and a voice snarled, ‘Take them to the caves!’
CHAPTER XV
Tyranny remains because the weak and fearful seek it.
The Passages Orchid led Antsy and Corien through could only in the coarsest sense be named tunnels. As far into the distance as Antsy could see, the naked rock canopy was intricately carved to imitate a wide forest. Branches glittered with precious stones and gems which had been set as if mimicking berries or flowers. They passed rooms where wrecked furniture carved from rare woods lay like abandoned works of sculpture. Such wood alone would make Antsy wealthy beyond measure. That such riches lay about ignored within these upper reaches of the Spawn told Antsy a great deal about the character of those who occupied the place. After different coin, this lot.
Here Morn met them. He emerged from the gloom and waited as they advanced. At his feet lay a pile of equipment: their gear. Antsy belted his sword and long-knife then shouldered his pannier, all the while eyeing the strange entity. He’d even recovered their food bags. ‘Thanks,’ Antsy said, meaning it. The shade had very probably saved their lives.
The ghost bowed to Orchid. ‘I could not have you going hungry.’
‘We’re still for the Gap,’ she warned him, firm.
He gestured ahead, inviting them onward. ‘Of course.’
‘Here is a question for you, Antsy,’ Corien said after a time, his voice low, as they walked along. ‘If we’re supposed to be going to this “Gap”, why are we heading up?’
‘It is the only way,’ Morn answered from the front.
Antsy raised his brows to Corien in silent comment. Damned unnatural hearing on that man. The lad merely hefted the crossbow and offered a shallow bow. ‘Very well. Let us grant that for the moment. Why then didn’t we just turn round? Go out the way we came in?’
‘There would be no boats there,’ Morn answered, unperturbed. ‘Easier now to go onwards.’
‘Well … now, perhaps, but couldn’t we’ve …’ His voice died off as everyone stilled, peering about. A great juddering blow had shaken the artefact beneath their feet. Stone branches snapped, falling to explode into countless shards all about them. In a deafening avalanche of rock and broken furniture and rubbish the entire structure lurched to one side like a ship broadsided by an immense wave. Antsy tottered, side-stepping to hit the trunk of a stone tree. He reached for Orchid but missed as she rolled past. The Spawn lurched back in the opposite direction and Antsy bashed his head on the stone of the tree. Reverberations of calving rock and tons of falling rubble shook and shuddered the caves all around them.
The drunken rocking of the immense artefact eased slowly. A new equilibrium was reached with the floor pitched sideways at a rather uncomfortable angle. Gems, cups, broken shards of rock and other rubbish rolled and slid between their feet to clatter off into the darkness amid the stone tree pillars.
Orchid’s eyes, black and huge in the mage-light, sought and found Antsy’s. ‘The Gap,’ she called to Morn. ‘Where is it?’
The shade led them to a large opening carved to resemble an arch in an arboretum. Orchid stared in silent wonder, obviously awed. She faced Morn. ‘The Processional Way?’
The ghost bowed. ‘Indeed. You are well informed.’
She turned to Antsy and he was rather shaken to see her eyes almost glowing. ‘We are very close.’
‘About time,’ he murmured, clearing his throat. ‘Maybe I should lead now.’ Then he sniffed the air wafting from the broad arched way and cocked his head. Somethin’ there. Somethin’ … He pulled Orchid out of view of the opening. She opened her mouth to speak but all it took was one glance at his face for her to snap it closed. Good. We’re gettin’ tight now.
He signed wait to Corien, then poked his head round the corner to inhale once more. And there it was as before: sweat, oil, stink of clothes and armour too long unwashed. And one other thing: fish sauce. Damned Falaran fish sauce. Once tasted — or smelled — never forgotten. ‘Let go your balls, boys and girls,’ he called. ‘We’ve decided to let you live.’
‘Who’s that pissing uphill there?’ a man called back in Falaran.
‘Antsy. The Second.’
‘What’s a Second loser doing here?’
‘Mustered out last year. Now I got me a backpack so full o’ emeralds and rubies I can’t hardly lift it. Could use a hand.’
‘Put ’em up, lads. Let’s have a look.’
The yellow glow of lanterns bruised Antsy’s eyes and he turned away, wincing. A troop of six Malazan soldiers came down the broad hall; marines. The squattest of them, as broad as a horse, wore a sergeant’s torc. Antsy inclined his head in greeting.
The sergeant rubbed the beard darkening his chin and cheeks while he eyed Antsy up and down. ‘Well, I’ll be damned …’ he breathed. Then he cocked a questioning eye.
Antsy shook a negative. The man blew out a breath and gave a quick nod of assent. ‘So,’ he said, glancing about. ‘You alone?’
‘No.’ He turned and beckoned. ‘Orchid … Corien Lim … Morn.’
The sergeant nodded, then motioned back up the hall. ‘This way.’
As they started off Antsy glanced round to see that once again Morn had disappeared. After a time he asked, ‘What’s the situation?’
‘Damned ugly. Got a damned menagerie o’ mages ’n’ sorcerers ’n’ such all ready to kill one another an’ all jammed together steppin’ on each other’s toes an’ yankin’ each other’s knickers. It’s a wonder any of ’em’s still standing, it is.’
‘How’s your captain holding up?’
The man spat aside. ‘Captain’s dead. Lieutenant’s in charge.’
‘How’s he doing?’
‘He’s kept us a seat at the table. But things’re heatin’ up.’ His gaze slid sideways. ‘Could use some help.’
Antsy felt his mouth tighten. ‘Can’t guarantee anything, Sergeant.’ He jerked his head back the way they’d come. ‘And there’s a whole army out there that wants in.’
The man spat again. ‘Faugh! Them! Fucking also-rans. Nothing to worry about there.’
‘And you boys? What do you want?’
‘Us?’ He snorted. ‘Togg’s tits, man. We just want out. Friend … we just want the Abyss outta here.’
The sergeant, Girth, led them to the lieutenant. They found him amidst the Malazan encampment, which occupied a set of rooms off a large high-roofed assembly chamber, like an immense cavern, where numerous halls and stairs led into darkness. Antsy caught a glimpse of the two mages they’d followed standing near the centre of the room, speaking to a striking slim woman dressed in a white silk shirt, tight trousers, and tall leather boots that came up to her knees. With them was their damned guide, the gangly Jallin.
The lieutenant, it turned out, was a very young fellow with the heavy build and curly hair of a north Genabackan. After Girth spoke to him he approached to give Antsy a welcoming nod. ‘A veteran, yes?’ Antsy nodded. ‘Good. Could use your help.’ He looked to Corien. ‘Darujhistani. Trained?’