Dust of Dreams (The Malazan Book of the Fallen #9) 61

‘But you know we’re not heading for anything so easy,’ Sinter said.

Masan’s lovely eyes narrowed. ‘This is what you want back from me? You think I’ve got my ear against the Adjunct’s tent?’

‘I know you know more than we do.’

‘And if I do? What difference would it make to you?’

Kisswhere’s breath caught as she saw her sister’s hands clench into fists at her sides. ‘I need a reason, Masan Gilani. I need to know it’s all worth it.’

‘And you think what little I know can give you that? You must be desperate-’

‘Yes! I am!’

‘Why?’

Sinter’s mouth shut, her jaw setting.

Masan Gilani looked over at Kisswhere, as if to ask: What’s her problem here? What’s so hard to say?

But Kisswhere had no answers. Well, not satisfying ones. ‘My sister,’ she said, ‘is a very loyal person. But she holds that loyalty in highest regard. She’ll give it, I mean-’

‘But,’ cut in Masan Gilani, ‘whatever or whoever she’s giving it to had better be worthy of it. Right. I think I’m beginning to understand this. Only, Kisswhere, you should look to your own feelings about that.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean, you sounded pretty bitter right there. As if loyalty is a curse and not one you want any part of. I’d wager your sister dragged you here as much to convince you of something as to convince me. Sinter, would that be a good guess?’

‘That’s between me and her,’ Sinter replied.

Kisswhere glared at her sister.

‘All right,’ said Masan Gilani, ‘I’ll give you what little I know. What Ebron and Bottle and Deadsmell and Widdershins have put together. Maybe it’ll help, maybe it won’t. That’s for you to decide. Here’s what we think.’ She paused, reached for the skin.

Kisswhere handed it to her.

Masan drank, then squatted before them-taking the pose of the teller of tales, one they knew well-and both sisters followed suit.

‘He didn’t ask for it. But he’s been making trouble ever since. Quick Ben met him face to face. So, we worked out, did that Meckros weaponsmith, Withal. He’s poison and he knows it and he can’t help it, because he doesn’t belong here. There are pieces of him scattered over half the world, but the biggest one is sitting in this place called Kolanse-and it’s being… used.’

‘We’re going to kill the Crippled God.’

Kisswhere shot her sister a wild look. ‘But who’d want to stop us doing that?’

Sinter shook her head. Her face was wretched with confusion.

Masan was eyeing them and when she spoke her voice was flat, ‘You jumped the wrong way, Sinter, like a one-eyed mongoose.’ She drank again, sloshed the skin and then scowled. ‘Should’ve brought two. We don’t think we’re off to kill the Chained One. In fact, it’s those chains we’re after. Well, the Adjunct, I mean. What she’s after.’ She lifted her head and fixed on Sinter’s eyes, and then Kisswhere’s. ‘We’re going to set the bastard free.’

Kisswhere barked a savage laugh. ‘No wonder they’ll all abandon us! And I’m the first in line to join them!’

‘Be quiet,’ Sinter said through the hands she’d lifted to her face. She was trembling, no, shuddering, and Kisswhere saw the glitter of tears trickle to the heels of her sister’s palms.

Masan Gilani’s face was grave, patient.

Kisswhere rounded on Sinter. ‘You cannot! No! This is impossible! What if they’re wrong? They must be-even the Adjunct’s not that stupid! Every god and ascendant in the world will be coming against us, never mind those idiots in Kolanse! She’s lost her mind! Our commander’s insane and there’s no damned law anywhere says we have to follow her!’

Sinter drew a deep breath and then lowered her hands. Something solid filled her face, as if implacable stone was replacing the soft tissues beneath her onyx skin. The bleakness drained from her eyes as they settled on Kisswhere. ‘It will do,’ she said. ‘I think,’ she added, ‘nothing else would have.’

‘What-’

‘It is just, sister. Just. ’

‘They’ll all turn on us,’ Kisswhere retorted. ‘You said so yourself-’

‘If we do nothing, yes. They will turn on us. And what little chance we had to succeed will go with them. We need to change their minds.’

‘How?’ asked Masan Gilani.