Reaper's Gale (Malazan Book of the Fallen, #7)

by Steven Erikson

Tall as he was, Ublala’s face, lifting into view to squint upwards at Tehol, was within reach. Smiling and patting him on the head, Tehol said, ‘My friend, if you could, step back from what serves as a ladder here – and given my manservant’s lacklustre efforts at repair I am using the description advisedly – so that I may descend in a manner befitting my station.’ ‘What?’ ‘Get out of the way, you oaf!’ Ducking, edging away, Ublala grunted. ‘Why is he so miserable?’ he asked, jerking a thumb up at Tehol. ‘The world is about to end but does he care about that? No. He doesn’t. Care about that. The world ending. Does he?’ Tehol shifted round to lead with his feet on the uppermost rung of the ladder. ‘Loquacious Ublala Pung, how ever will we follow the track of your thoughts? I despair.’ He wiggled over the edge then groped with his feet. Bugg spoke. ‘Given the view you are presently providing us, master, despair is indeed the word. Best look away, Janath.’ ‘Too late,’ she replied. ‘To my horror.’ ‘I live in the company of voyeurs!’ Tehol managed to find the rung with one foot and began making his way down. ‘I thought they were chickens,’ Ublala said. A piercing avian cry, ending in a mangled crunch. ‘Oh.’ Cursing from Bugg. ‘Damn you, Pung! You’re eating that one! All by yourself! And you can cook it yourself, too!’ ‘It just got in the way! If you built some more rooms, Bugg, it wouldn’t have happened.’ ‘And if you did your damned pacing in the alley outside – better yet, if y...