‘I doubt I rate highly on Hood’s wish list,’ the undead Jaghut replied.
Antsy grunted a laugh. ‘All right, I’m finally working out your sense of hu shy;mour. And I thought Malazan marines were dry, Abyss below! Fine, Raest, let’s play this game for real. If you can help us with our problem, we’ll do something for you in return. If it’s within our abilities, that is, so nothing like “get me outa here” or anything like that. But, you know, other stuff.’
‘I do have a modest request. Very well, I accept the reciprocal engagement.’
Antsy grinned across at Picker, and then said to Raest, ‘It’s this. Someone’s taken out a contract on us. We don’t know why. We’re thinking maybe Paran can work out who and what’s got ’em so aggravated.’
The Jaghut stared.
Picker cleared her throat. ‘Possible causes. One, we’re Malazans. Veterans. We’ve made more than a few enemies on this continent. Two, we own K’rul’s Bar, which used to be K’rul’s Belfry, which used to be K’rul’s Temple. In the cellar we just found thirteen pickled Seguleh, maybe centuries old, but looking fresh, Since they’re, er, pickled.’ She paused, drew a breath, and then continued, ‘Three, well, I ain’t got to three yet. The way I figure it, it’s all got to do with K’rul — maybe some cultists want the temple back. Maybe someone put in an order for pickled Seg shy;uleh and wants ’em delivered.’
Antsy stared at her. ‘Someone did what? Pick, that’s the stupidest idea I’ve ever heard.’
‘I wouldn’t argue with that,’ she said, ‘only I’m desperate, and besides, I got a hunch those Seguleh are part of the problem.’
Antsy looked to Raest. ‘So there it is. Got any suggestions or are you just going to stand there for ever?’
‘Yes I am,’ Raest replied, ‘but that detail is not relevant. As for suggestions, I suggest you kill every assassin in the city.’
‘Then whoever wants us dead just starts hiring thugs,’ Picker said.
‘Kill all thugs.’
Antsy tugged at his moustache. ‘Ain’t practical. There’s only three of us left — it’d take years.’
‘Kidnap the Guild Master and torture him or her to reveal the client. Then kill the client.’
‘Killing the client makes sense to us,’ Picker said, nodding. ‘The kidnapping thing doesn’t sound very feasible — we’d have to carve through a few hundred as shy;sassins to do it. Besides, we don’t know where the Guild Master’s hideout is. We could capture and torture an assassin to find that out, but they probably operate in cells which means whoever we get might not know a thing. The point is, we don’t know who the client is. We need to find out.’
Raest said, ‘Your suspicion that the K’rul Temple is central to this matter is probably accurate. Determining the specifics, however, would best be served by enlisting the assistance of the Master of the Deck.’
‘That’s what we wanted in the first place!’ Antsy shouted.
‘Extraordinary, isn’t it?’
Antsy glared up at the infuriating lich, bit down a few retorts that might prove unwise. He drew a deep breath to calm himself, and then said in a nice, quiet tone, ‘So let’s see if we can send him a message, shall we?’
‘Follow me,’ Raest said.
Back into the corridor, turning right, five strides to a narrow door on the left that led into the squat round tower, up the spiral staircase, arriving into the upper level — a circular room with the walls bearing oversized painted renditions of the cards of the Deck of Dragons. Something twisted the eye in this chamber and Picker almost staggered.
‘Gods below,’ muttered Antsy. ‘This place is magicked — makes me sick to the stomach.’
The images swirled, blurred, shifted in rippling waves that crossed from every conceivable direction, a clash of convergences inviting vertigo no matter where the eye turned. Picker found herself gasping. She squeezed shut her eyes, heard Antsy cursing as he backed out of the room.
Raest’s dry voice drifted faintly into her head. ‘The flux has increased. There appears to be some manner of. . deterioration. Even so, Corporal Picker, if you focus your mind and concentrate on Ganoes Paran, the efficacy of your will may prove sufficient to anchor in place the Master’s own card, which perhaps will awaken his attention. Unless of course he is otherwise engaged. Should your willpower prove unequal to the task, I am afraid that what remains of your sanity will be torn away. Your mind itself will be shredded by the maelstrom, leaving you a drooling wreck.’ After a moment, he added, ‘Such a state of being may not be desirable. Of course, should you achieve it, you will not care one way or the other, which you may consider a blessing.’
‘Well,’ she replied, ‘that’s just great. Give me a moment, will you?’
She tugged from her memory the captain’s not unpleasant face, sought to fix it before her mind’s eye.
