The Crippled God (Malazan Book of the Fallen, #10)

by Steven Erikson

Gesler shrugged. ‘We liked it the way we’d made it – gods, so long ago now. Hiding in some foul garrison in a smelly fishing village. We’d ducked down so far it looked like the world had forgotten us, and that was just how we wanted it. And now look at us. Gods below.’ Brys cocked his head. ‘You have been with the Adjunct ever since that time?’ ‘Not quite. We got pulled in with the Whirlwind – a mutiny. We blame the Imperial Historian, that’s who we blame. Never mind, none of it’s worth knowing – it’s just a sordid tale of us staggering and stumbling this way and that across half the damned world. We did nothing of note, except maybe staying alive, and see where it’s got us.’ ‘If you and your friend are feeling so trapped,’ said Brys, ‘why not just leave? Did you not already call yourself and Stormy deserters?’ ‘Wish I could. I really do. But we can’t, and we know it.’ ‘But…why?’ Gesler looked down abjectly at Grub. ‘Because,’ he whispered like a man condemned, ‘she trusts us.’