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

Dust of Dreams (The Malazan Book of the Fallen #9) Page 25

‘Trull is dead,’ Seren said.

‘But the Knight of Shadow lives on,’ Bugg replied.

The dread had been building within her, an icy tide rising to flood every space within her, between her thoughts, drowning them one by one, and now cold fear engulfed her. ‘Our child,’ she whispered.

Bugg’s eyes hardened. ‘The Errant invited the murder of Trull Sengar. Tonight, Acquitor, the Deck of Dragons will be awakened, in this very city. This awakening is in truth a challenge to the Errant, an invitation to battle. Is he ready? Is he of sufficient strength to counter-attack? Will this night end awash in mortal blood? I cannot say. One thing I mean to prevent, Seren Pedac, is the Errant striking his enemies through the child you carry.’

‘That’s not good enough,’ she whispered.

His brows rose. ‘Acquitor?’

‘I said it’s not good enough! Who is this King of High House Shadow? How dare he claim my child! Summon him, Ceda! Here! Now!’

‘Summon? Acquitor, even if I could, that would be… please, you must understand. To summon a god-even if naught but a fragment of its spirit-will be to set afire the brightest beacon-one that will be seen by not just the Errant, but other forces as well. On this night, Acquitor, we must do nothing to draw attention to ourselves.’

‘It is you who needs to understand, Ceda. If the Errant wants to harm my child… you may well be a Ceda, but the Errant is a god. Who has already murdered the man I loved-a Knight of Shadow. You may not be enough . My child is to be the new Knight of Shadow? Then the High King of Shadow will come here-tonight- and he will protect his Knight! ’

‘Acquitor-’

‘Summon him!’

‘Seren-I am enough. Against the Errant. Against any damned fool who dares to come close, I am enough .’

‘That makes no sense.’

‘Nevertheless.’

She stared at him, unable to disguise her disbelief, her terror.

‘Acquitor, there are other forces in the city. Ancient, benign ones, yet powerful nonetheless. Would it ease your concern if I summon them on your behalf? On your unborn son’s behalf?’

Son. The red-eyed midwife was right, then. ‘They will listen to you?’

‘I believe so.’

After a moment, she nodded. ‘Very well. But Ceda, after tonight-I will speak to this King of Shadow.’

He flinched. ‘I fear you will find the meeting unsatisfactory, Acquitor.’

‘I will decide that for myself.’

Bugg sighed. ‘So you shall, Seren Pedac.’

‘When will you summon your friends, Ceda?’

‘I already have.’

Lostara Yil had said there’d be eleven in all not counting Fiddler himself. That was madness. Eleven players for the reading. Bottle glanced across at Fiddler as they marched up the street in the wake of the two women. The man looked sick, rings under his eyes, mouth twisted in a grimace. The darker roots of his hair and beard made the silvered ends seem to hover like an aura, a hint of chaos.

Gesler and Stormy clumped along behind them. Too cowed for their usual arguing with each other about virtually everything. As bad as a married couple, they were. Maybe they sensed the trouble on the way-Bottle was sure those two marines had more than just gold-hued skin setting them apart from everyone else. Clearly, whatever fates existed displayed a serious lack of discrimination when choosing to single out certain people from the herd. Gesler and Stormy barely had one brain between them.

Bottle tried to guess who else would be there. The Adjunct and Lostara Yil, of course, along with Fiddler himself, and Gesler and Stormy. Maybe Keneb-he’d been at the last one, hadn’t he? Hard to remember-most of that night was a blur now. Quick Ben? Probably. Blistig? Well, one sour, miserable bastard might settle things out some. Or just make everything worse. Sinn? Gods forbid.

‘This is a mistake,’ muttered Fiddler. ‘Bottle-what’re you sensing? Truth now.’

‘You want the truth? Really?’

‘Bottle.’

‘Fine, I’m too scared to edge out there-this is an old city, Sergeant. There’s… things. Mostly sleeping up until now. I mean, for as long as we’ve been here.’

‘But now they’re awake.’

‘Aye. Noses in the air. This reading, Sergeant, it’s about as bad an idea as voicing a curse in Oponn’s name while sitting in Hood’s lap.’

‘You think I don’t know that?’

‘Can you spike the whole thing, Sergeant? Just say it won’t go, you’re all closed up inside or something?’