Gardens of the Moon (The Malazan Book of the Fallen #1) 54
Tool resumed his march into the darkness.
After a minute Lorn asked, “How much time is this going to take?”
“Time?” There was amusement in his voice. “Within this barrow, Adjunct, time does not exist. The Jaghut who imprisoned their kin brought an age of ice to this land, the barrow's final seal. Adjunct, a halfleague of ice stands over this burial chamber-still. We have come to a time and place before the faltering of the Jaghut ice, before the coming of the great inland sea known to the Imass as Jhagra Til, before the passing of countless ages-”
“And when we return?” Lorn interrupted. “How much time will have passed?”
“I cannot say, Adjunct.” The Imass paused and turned back to her, his eye sockets glimmering with a sourceless light. “I have never done this before.”
Despite the hardened leather armour, the feel of a woman pressing against Crokus's back had brought to his face more sweat than the afternoon heat could account for. Yet it was a mix of feelings that had his heart thumping against his chest. On the one hand was the bald fact that here was a girl of nearly his age, and an attractive one at that, with surprisingly strong arms wrapped around his waist and her warm, moist breath on his neck. On the other hand, this woman had murdered a man and the only reason he could think of her arriving on the scene back there in the hills was that she'd been planning to kill him, too. So he found himself too tense to enjoy sharing the saddle with her.
They had said little to each other since leaving Coll. In another da), Crokus knew, Darujhistan's walls would come into view. He wondered if she'd remember it. And then a voice spoke in his head that soundel like Coll's: “Why don't you ask the girl, idiot?” Crokus scowled.
She spoke first. “Is Itko Kan far from here?”
He thought about laughing, but something-an instinct-stopped him. Tread softly, he told himself. “I've never heard of such a place,” he said. “It's in the Malazan Empire?”
“Yes. We aren't in the Empire?”
Crokus growled, “Not yet.” Then his shoulders slumped. “We're on a continent called Genabackis. The Malazans came from the seas both east and west. They now control all the Free Cities to the north, as well as the Nathilog Confederacy.”
“Oh,” the girl replied weakly. “You're at war with the Empire, then.”
“More or less, though you'd never know it as far as Darujhistan is concerned.”
“Is that the name of the town you live in?”
“Town? Darujhistan's a city. It's the biggest, richest city in all the land.”
There was awe and excitement in her reply. “A city. I've never been to a city. Your name is Crokus, isn't it?”
“How did you know that?”
“That's what your soldier friend called you.”
“Oh, of course.” Why did the fact that she'd known his name send his heart lurching?
“Aren't you going to ask me my name?” the woman asked quietly.
“You can remember it?”
“No,” she admitted. “That's strange, isn't it?”
He heard pathos in that reply, and something melted inside-making him even angrier. “Well, I can't very well help you in that, can 1?”
The woman seemed to withdraw behind him, and her arms loosened their grip. “No.”
Abruptly his anger fell away. Crokus was ready to scream at the chaos in his head. Instead he shifted in the saddle, forcing her to clutch him tightly. Ah, he smirked, that's better. Then his eyes widened. What am I saying?
“Crokus?”
“What?”
“Give me a Darujhistan name. Pick one. Pick your favourite.”
“Challice,” he responded immediately. “No, wait! You can't be Challice. I already know a Challice. You've got to be someone else.”
“Is she your girlfriend?”
“No!” he snapped. He pulled at the reins and they stopped. Crokus clawed at his hair, then threw a leg over and dropped to the ground. He pulled the reins over the horse's head. I want to walk,” he said.
“Yes,” she said. “I would like to, too.”
“Well, maybe I want to run!”
She stepped round to face him, her expression troubled. “Run? From me, Crokus?”
He saw things falling into ruins behind her eyes-what were those things? He felt a desperate need to know, but asking straight out was clearly impossible. Why it was impossible he couldn't say. It just was. He looked down at the ground and kicked at a rock. “No,” he mumbled. “I didn't mean that. Sorry.”