Inky blackness billowed in the courtyard. Minala shouted a warning even as the crossbow bucked in her hands. A voice shouted in pain.
Kalam straight-armed the captain, sending him sprawling to one side, then spun, knife flashing in his hand.
Four Hands of the Claw had appeared — twenty killers were converging on them. Throwing stars hissed through the darkness. Minala cried out, the crossbow flying from her grip as she staggered back. A bucking wave of sorcery rolled over the cobbles — and vanished.
Shadows swirled in the midst of the Hands, adding to the confusion. When something huge and ungainly stepped into view, Kalam's eyes widened with recognition.
The explosion sent shards of iron scything through them.
A lone hunter closed with Kalam. Two thin-bladed knives darted forward in a blur. One struck the assassin in his right shoulder, the other missed his face by inches. Kalam's knife fell from nerveless fingers and he reeled back. The hunter leapt at him.
The sack of cloth-tacks intercepted the path of the man's head with a sickening crunch. The hunter dropped to writhe on the ground.
Another sharper detonated nearby. More screams rang through the courtyard.
Hands gripped Kalam's tattered apron, dragged him into the shadows. The assassin weakly struggled. 'Minala!'
A familiar voice whispered close to him. 'We've got her — and Crokus has the stallion-'
Kalam blinked. 'Sorry?'
'It's Apsalar these days, Corporal.'
The shadows closed on all sides. Sounds faded.
'You're full of holes,' Apsalar observed. 'Busy night, I take it.'
He grunted as the knife was slowly withdrawn from his shoulder, and he felt the blood welling in the blade's wake. A face leaned into his view, a grey-streaked red snarl of beard, a battered soldier's visage that now grinned.
'Hood's breath!' Kalam muttered. 'That's a damned ugly face you've got there, Fid.'
The grin broadened. 'Funny,' Fiddler said, 'I was just thinking the same — and that's what I don't get, what with you finding this flash lady for company-'
'Her wounds-'
'Minor,' Apsalar said from close by.
'Did you get her?' Fiddler asked. 'Did you kill the Empress?'
'No. I changed my mind-'
'Damn, we could — you
'She's a sweet sack of bones after all, Fid — remind me to tell you the whole tale some time, provided you repay in kind, since I gather you managed to use the Azath gates.'
'Aye, we did.'
'Any problems?'
'Nothing to it.'
'Glad to hear one of us had it easy.' Kalam struggled to sit up. 'Where are we?'
A new voice spoke, sibilant and wry. 'The Realm of Shadow … My realm!'
Fiddler groaned, looked up. 'Shadowthrone is it now? Kellanved, more like it! We ain't fooled, y' got that? You can hide in those fancy shadows all you like, but you're still just the damned Emperor!'
'Ai, I quail!' The insubstantial figure giggled suddenly, edging back. 'And you, are you not a soldier of the Malazan Empire? Did you not take a vow? Did you not swear allegiance … to me?'
'To the Empire, you mean!'
'Why quibble about such minor distinctions? The truth remains that the aptorian has delivered you … to me, to me, to me!'
Sudden clicking, buzzing sounds made the god shift around to face the demon. When the strange noises coming from Apt ceased, Shadowthrone faced the group once again. 'Clever bitch! But we knew that, didn't we? She and that ugly child riding her, agh! Corporal Kalam of the Bridgeburners, it seems you've found a woman — oh, look at her eyes! Such fury! I am impressed, most impressed. And now you wish to settle down, yes? I wish to reward you all!' He gestured with both hands as if delivering blessings. 'Loyal subjects that you all are!'
Apsalar spoke in her cool, detached way. 'I do not seek any reward, nor does my father. We would have our associations severed — with you, with Cotillion, and with every other Ascendant. We would leave this warren, Ammanas, and return to the Kanese coast-'
'And I with them,' Crokus said.
'Oh, wonderful!' the god crooned. 'Synchronous elegance, this fullest of full circles! To the Kanese coast indeed! To the very road where first we met, oh yes. Go, then! I send you with the smoothest of gestures. Go!' He raised an arm and caressed the air with his long, ghostly fingers.
Shadows swept over the three figures, and when they cleared, Apsalar, her father and Crokus had vanished.
The god giggled again. 'Cotillion will be so pleased, won't he just. Now, what of you, soldier? My magnanimity is rarely seen — I have so little of it! Quickly, before I tire of all this amusement.'
'Corporal?' Fiddler asked, crouching beside the assassin. 'Kalam, I ain't too thrilled with a god making offers, if you know what I mean-'
