Deadhouse Gates (Malazan Book of the Fallen, #2)

by Steven Erikson

‘Moby’s a famil—’ ‘More lies! That disgusting bhok’aral is a Soletaken, you fool!’ ‘Relax. There is no gate in here that offers a shapeshifter anything,’

The bhok’aral there in your hands, Crokus, is demonic. In true form, it could hold you as you now hold it.’

At the foot of the saddlebacked steps lay another body, a young, dark-skinned woman who looked as if she had been placed there but an hour before. She was dressed in what were clearly underclothes, though the armour that had once covered them was nowhere to be seen. Vicious wounds crisscrossed her slight form. Apsalar approached, crouched down and rested a hand on the girl’s shoulder. ‘I know her,’ she whispered. ‘Eh?’ Rellock growled. ‘The memory of the one who possessed me, Father,’ she said. ‘His mortal memory—’ ‘Dancer,’ Fiddler said. She nodded. ‘This is Dassem Ultor’s daughter.

‘How does one say goodbye to a bhok’aral?’ ‘With a boot in the backside, how else?’ Pust offered. ‘Care to try that with this one?’ Fiddler asked. The High Priest scowled, made no move.

‘No, better. The Malazan Empire understands borderlands, the different needs of those living in the countryside – vast territories in the Empire, after all, remain nomadic, and the tribute demanded is never exorbitant. More, payment for passage across tribal lands is always generous and prompt. Coltaine should know this well enough, Captain.’ ‘I imagine he does – I’m the one that needs convincing.’

the tail end of the train from the pursuing army. The flight had not slowed and that was the only evidence the historian had that the gates had, at last, opened to receive the refugees. Either that or they’re spreading out in frantic, hopeless waves along the wall – but no, that would be a betrayal beyond sanity—

‘I know sir, but those soldiers on the walls, sir – well, they’re as close as they’re allowed to get, if you understand me. And they’re not happy about it.’ ‘They’re not alone in that. Now get going, Captain Keneb.’

‘Your eyes – they’re different – so small, two fighting to see as one. I think they must be weak. When you approached, you walked through a stone wall and then the trees, rippling the ghost world as if ignorant of its right to dwell here.’ Cotillion’s eyes widened. ‘Wall? Trees?’ He glanced up at Apt. ‘Has his mind fled?’ The demon answered at length. Cotillion paled. ‘Hood’s breath!’ he finally muttered, and when he turned back to the child it was with an expression of awe. ‘What is your name, lad?’ ‘Panek.’

‘I don’t remember. I don’t remember any of their faces. We were waiting to see what they’d do with us. But then we were led away – the children – away. Soldiers pushed my father, dragged him in the opposite direction. I was supposed to stay close, but I went with the children. They punished me – punished all of the children – for not doing what we were told.’ Cotillion’s eyes narrowed. ‘I don’t think your father had much choice, Panek.’ ‘But the enemy were fathers too, you see. And mothers and grandmothers – they were all so angry with us. They took our clothes. Our sandals. They took everything from us, they were so angry. Then they punished us.’ ‘And how did they do that?’ ‘They nailed us to crosses.’ Cotillion said nothing for a long moment. When he finally spoke, his voice was strangely flat. ‘You remember that, then.’

on. Whatever Mother says. I promise.’ ‘Panek. Listen carefully to your uncle. You weren’t punished for not doing what you were told. Listen – this is hard, I know, but try to understand. They hurt you because they could, because there was no-one there who was capable of stopping them. Your father would have tried – I’m sure he did. But, like you, he was helpless. We’re here now, with you – your mother and Uncle Cotillion – we’re here to make sure you’ll never be helpless again. Do you understand?’ Panek looked up at his mother. She clicked softly. ‘All right,’ the boy said. ‘We’ll teach each other, lad.’ Panek frowned. ‘What can I teach you?’ Cotillion grimaced. ‘Teach me what you see . . . here, in this realm. Your ghost world, the Shadow Hold that was, the old places that remain—’ ‘What you walk through unseeing.’

‘Aye. I’ve often wondered why the Hounds never run straight.’ ‘Hounds?’ ‘You’ll meet them sooner or later, Panek. Cuddly mutts, one and all.’ Panek smiled, revealing sharp fangs. ‘I like dogs.’ With a slight flinch, Cotillion said, ‘I’m sure they’ll like you in turn.’ He straightened, faced Apt. ‘You’re right, you can’t do this alone. Let us think on it, Ammanas and I.’ He faced the lad again. ‘Your mother has other tasks now. Debts to pay. Will you go with her or come with me?’ ‘Where do you go, Uncle?’ ‘The other children have been deposited nearby. Would you like to help me get them settled?’ Panek hesitated, then replied, ‘I w...

to meet him. Mother says he dreams of me, of when he first saw me.’ ‘I’m sure he does,’ Cotillion muttered. ‘Like me, he is haunted by helplessness. Very well, until we meet again.’ He shifted his attention one last time, stared long into Apt’s eye. ‘When I Ascended, Lady, it was to escape the nightmares of feeling . . .’ He grimaced. ‘Imagine my surprise that I now thank you for such chains.’ Panek broke in. ‘Uncle, do you have any children?’ He winced, looked away. ‘A daughter. Of sorts.’ He sighed, then smiled wryly. ‘We had a falling-out, I’m afraid.’ ‘You must forgive her.’ ‘Damned upstart!’ ‘You said we must...

Panek continued staring. ‘Does he imagine,’ he asked his mother, ‘that he now walks unseen?’

hands. A soft voice spoke beside him. ‘There’s such irony in this, my friend. You see, it’s your mind that’s betrayed you. The formidable, deadly mind of the assassin Kalam Mekhar.’ Salk Elan leaned on the rail beside him, studying the city. ‘I’ve admired

legend, the finest killer the Claw ever had – and lost. Ah, and it’s that loss that rankles the most. Had you the will for it, Kalam, you could now be in command of the entire organization – oh, Topper might disagree, and I’ll grant you, in some ways he’s your superior by far. He would have killed me on the first day, no matter how uncertain he was of whatever risk I might have presented. Even so,’ Salk Elan continued after

‘You threw me but once, with that sly hint that maybe Quick Ben was hiding in your baggage. I almost panicked then, until I realized if that were true, I’d already be dead – sniffed out and fed to the sharks. ‘You should never have left the Claw, Kalam. We don’t deal with rejection very well. The Empress wants you, you know, wants a conversation with you, in fact. Before skinning you alive, I imagine. Alas, things aren’t so simple, are they?

answer his obsessions—’ ‘And so, what will you do? Aye, we can march, but it will take months to reach the Aren Plain, and by then Korbolo will have given Tavore all the justification she needs to deliver a ruthless punishment. The rebellion was bloody, but your sister will make what’s already happened seem like a scratch on the backside.’ ‘You assume she is my superior, Heboric, don’t you? In tactics—’

flesh and bone to shield their leaders – the ones who had led them across a continent, to die now, almost within the shadow of Aren’s high walls. And on those walls was ranged an army, ten thousand fellow soldiers to witness this, the greatest crime ever committed by a Malazan High Fist. How Coltaine had managed to get this far was beyond Duiker’s ability to comprehend. He was seeing the end of a battle that must have run without cessation for days – a battle that had ensured the survival of the refugees – and this is why that dust cloud was so slow to approach.

We’re intruders here . . . He’d heard rumours of warrens that were airless, that were instant death to mortals who dared enter them. There was an arrogance in assuming that every realm in existence bowed to human needs. Intruders – this place cares nothing for us, nor are there any laws demanding that it accommodate us. Mind you, the same could be said for any world.

Fiddler briefly wondered about those three dragons – where they had gone, what tasks awaited them – then he shrugged. Their appearance, their departure and, in between and most importantly, their indifference to the four mortals below was a sobering reminder that the world was far bigger than that defined by their own lives, their own desires and goals. The seemingly headlong plunge this journey had become was in truth but the smallest succession of steps, of no greater import than the struggles of a termite. The worlds live on, beyond us, countless unravelling tales.

We are all lone souls. It pays to know humility, lest the delusion of control, of mastery, overwhelms. And indeed, we seem a species prone to that delusion, again and ever again . . .

The final sacrifice was unnecessary. We could have saved them, if not for the coward commanding us. Two powerful honours had clashed – the raw duty to save the lives of fellow soldiers, and the discipline of the Malazan command structure – and from that collision ten thousand living, breathing, highly trained soldiers now stood broken.

‘I’m surprised you didn’t notice,’ the historian said. ‘Too busy gloating, I guess. Take a close look at the companies around you, especially those to the south . . .’ Mallick’s eyes narrowed as he scanned the gathered legions. Then he paled. ‘Blistig!’ ‘Seems the commander and his garrison decided to stay behind after all.

You have failed in your betrayal, Jhistal. Failed.’

‘You mean to slaughter ten thousand unarmed men and women, Korbolo Dom?’ ‘I mean to cripple Tavore before she even sets foot on this continent. I mean to make her too furious to think. I mean to crack that façade so she dreams of vengeance day and night, poisoning her every decision.’

The Elders scarred him deep when they destroyed an entire settlement and laid the blame at Icarium’s feet. They imagined that would suffice. A Watcher was needed, desperately. The one who had held that responsibility before had taken his own life. For months Icarium walked the land alone, and the threat was too great.’

light. Eyes the colour of dirty ice regarded them. Fiddler stared, seeing what he could not believe – the resemblance was unmistakeable, every feature an echo. His mind reeled. ‘My son must be stopped – his rage is a poison,’ the Jaghut said. ‘Some responsibilities surpass friendship, surpass even blood.’

‘Wounded warrens are a dangerous thing. Wounding one is far more so. My son sought a way to free me from the Azath. He failed. And was . . . damaged. He did not understand – and now he never will – that I am content here.

to find your answer, Kalam.’ ‘The deliberate murder of the Bridgeburners,’ the assassin growled. ‘The outlawing of Dujek Onearm. The attempted murders of Whiskeyjack, myself and the rest of the Ninth Squad. Old disappearances. A possible hand in Dassem Ultor’s death. The assassination of Dancer and the Emperor. Incompetence, ignorance, betrayal

must live with those—’ ‘Dassem Ultor—’ ‘Was a rival. An ambitious man, sworn to Hood. I would not risk civil war, so I struck first. I averted that civil war, and so have no regrets on that.’

echoes? You’ve crossed three continents to do this!’ He shrugged. ‘It’s our nature, isn’t it? Again and again, we cling to the foolish belief that simple solutions exist. Aye, I anticipated a dramatic,

‘I would not lose him, Topper.’ His laugh was a bark. ‘I said I cannot call off my hunters, Empress – do you take that to mean you actually expect them to succeed? Hood’s breath, Dancer himself would have hesitated before taking on Kalam Mekhar.

‘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.’

‘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

Shadowthrone sighed. ‘And with such soldiers, it is no wonder we conquered half a world – no, Fiddler, I do not mock. This once, I do not mock. Though Laseen does not deserve such as you. Nonetheless, when these mists clear, you will find yourself in the alley back of Smiley’s Tavern.’ ‘That will do me fine, Kellanved. I appreciate it.’

‘No. This – this is nothing.’ The ex-priest swung his sightless eyes towards Sha’ik. ‘Korbolo Dom – what has he Done?’

‘The fools surrendered,’ Korbolo Dom said, his voice betraying his own disbelief. ‘At High Fist Pormqual’s command. And that is the Empire’s new weakness – what used to be a strength: those soldiers obeyed the command. The Empire has lost its great leaders—’

What is that?’ ‘The place where Coltaine and the Seventh went down. The dogs were the only survivors. Coltaine guided thirty thousand refugees from Hissar to Aren. It was impossible, but that’s what he did. He saved those ungrateful bastards and his reward was to get butchered not five hundred paces from the city’s gate. No-one helped him, Trell.’ The corporal’s eyes searched Mappo’s. ‘Can you imagine that?’

‘You got that right, Rudd. Grunt work. I’m good at that, ain’t I? Grunt work. Grunt,