Gardens of the Moon (The Malazan Book of the Fallen #1) 54
“Fooled?” Whiskeyjack laughed. “She was reeling.”
“Paran said she was going to drop something off,” Quick Ben said.
“Did she?”
“Not yet.”
“It's getting tight, Sergeant. Damn tight.”
The other door opened and Trotts entered, his filed teeth exposed in something between a smile and a grimace.
“Success?” Whiskeyjack asked.
Trotts nodded.
As the afternoon waned Crokus and Apsalar waited atop the tower's platform. Every now and then they peered over the edge to watch the festivities. There was a taste of mania among the crowds below, as if they danced on the rim of desperation. In spite of the season's rejoicing, the shadow of the Malazan Empire hung over all. Indeed, with Moon's Spawn immediately to the south, Darujhistan's place between the two forces was obvious to everyone.
“Somehow,” Crokus muttered, as he watched the crowds moving down the streets like churning rivers, “Darujhistan seems smaller. Almost insignificant.”
“It looks huge to me,” Apsalar said. “It's one of the biggest cities I've ever seen,” she said. “As big as Unta, I think.”
He stared at her. She'd been saying strange things lately, which did not seem right coming from a fishergirl from a small coastal village.
That's the Empire capital, isn't it?”
She frowned, which made her look older. “Yes. Only I've never been there.”
“Well, how could you know how big it is, then?”
“I'm not sure, Crokus.”
Possession, Coll had said. Two sets of memory warred in the woman, and the war was getting worse. He wondered if Mammot had shown up yet. For a moment he came near to regretting their escape from Meese and Irilta. But then his thoughts turned to what was to come. He sat down on the platform and propped himself against the low wall. He stared at the assassin's body across from him. The blood that had been spilled had blackened under the hot sun. A trail of droplets crossed the floor to the stairs. Clearly, this assassin's killer had himself been wounded. Yet Crokus did not feel in danger, up here, although he wasn't sure why. “For an abandoned belfry tower, this place had witnessed a lot of drama lately.”
“Are we waiting for night?” Apsalar asked.
Crokus nodded.
“Then we find this Challice?”
“That's right. The D'Arles will be at Lady Sinital's F?te, I'm sure of it. The estate has an enormous garden, almost a forest. It goes right up to the back wall. Getting in should be easy.”
“Won't you be noticed once you join the guests, though?”
“I'll be dressed as a thief. Everybody will be wearing costumes. Besides, there'll be hundreds of people there. It might take an hour or two, but I'll find her.”
“And then?”
“I'll think of something,” Crokus said.
Apsalar stretched out her legs on the paving stones and crossed her arms. “And I'm supposed to hide in the bushes, huh?”
He shrugged. “Maybe Uncle Mammot will be there,” he said. “Then everything will be all right.”
“Why?”
“Because that's what Coll said,” Crokus shot back, exasperated.
supposed to tell her she'd been possessed for who knew how long? “We work out a way to get you home,” he explained. “That's what you want, right?”
She nodded slowly, as if no longer certain of that. “I miss my father,” she said.
To Crokus, Apsalar sounded as though she was trying to convince herself. He'd looked at her when they'd arrived, thinking, Why not? And he had to admit to himself now that her company wasn't bad. Except for all the questions, of course. Mind, what if he'd been in her situation, waking up thousands of leagues from home? It'd be terrifying. Would he have held up as well as she seemed to be doing?
“I'm feeling all right,” she said, watching him. “It's as if something inside is keeping things together. I can't explain it any better, but it's like a smooth, black stone. Solid and warm, and whenever I start getting scared it takes me inside. And then everything's fine again.” She added, “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to push you away.”
“Never mind,” he said.
Within the shadows of the stair-well, Serrat studied the two figures out on the platform. Enough was enough. She'd opened her Kurald Galain Warren into a defensive layering of wards around her. No more of these invisible enemies. If they wanted her, they'd have to show themselves.