The Bonehunters (Malazan Book of the Fallen, #6)

by Steven Erikson

Master Sergeant Braven Tooth neared the entrance to Coop’s. Not yet dawn. And the damned night was now quiet as a tomb. He shivered, as if he had just crossed the path of some hoary ghost, passing invisible yet pausing to give him a hungry glance. Coop’s door opened and closed, hard, the object of some anger, and Braven Tooth slowed. An armoured monstrosity ascended into view. Braven Tooth blinked, then grunted under his breath and approached. ‘Evening, Temper.’ The helmed head turned to him, as if distracted by the Master Sergeant’s sudden presence. ‘Braven Tooth.’ ‘What brings you out?’ Temper seemed to sniff the air, then glanced across at the old Deadhouse. A softly clattering shrug as he said, ‘Thought I’d take a walk.’ Braven Tooth nodded. ‘I see you dressed appropriately.’ Both men stepped back as a woman emerged from a nearby alley and came right past them, descended the steps and vanished into the maw of Coop’s. ‘Now that was some swaying walk,’ the Master Sergeant muttered in appreciation. But Temper’s attention was on the cobbles, and Braven Tooth looked down. She’d left footprints. Dark red. ‘So, Temper. I suppose we can’t hope that’s mud, now can we?’ ‘I think not, Brav.’ ‘Well, think I’ll plant myself in Coop’s. You done with your walk?’ A final glance across at the Deadhouse, then the huge man nodded. ‘So it seems.’ The two went down into the murky confines of the Hanged Man.