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

Dust of Dreams (The Malazan Book of the Fallen #9) Page 90

Feet crunching on dead wasps, she led him without hesitation to the stairs. They climbed to the empty chamber that had once been the nexus of the Azath’s power.

It was empty no longer.

Blood-red threads sizzled within, forming a knotted, chaotic web that spanned the entire chamber. The air tasted metallic, bitter.

They stood side by side at the threshold.

‘It uses what it finds,’ Sinn whispered.

‘So now what?’

‘Now, we step inside.’

‘They march in circles any longer and they’ll drop.’

Corporal Tarr squinted at the gasping, foot-dragging soldiers. ‘They’re out of shape, all right. Pathetic. Of course, we were supposed to think of something.’

Cuttle scratched at his jaw. ‘So we ended up thrashing them after all. Look, here comes Fid, thank the gods.’

The sergeant scowled upon seeing his two soldiers and almost turned round before Cuttle’s frantic beckoning beat down his defences, or at least elicited the man’s pity. Raking fingers through his red and grey beard, he walked over. ‘What are you two doing to those poor bastards?’

‘We run out of things to make them do,’ Cuttle said.

‘Well, stumbling round inside a compound only takes it so far. You need to get them out of the city. Get them practising entrenchments, redoubts and berms. You need to turn their penchant for wholesale rout into something like an organized withdrawal. You need to stretch their chain of command and see who’s got the guts to step up when it snaps. You need to make those ones squad-leaders. War games, too-set them against one of the other brigades or battalions being trained by our marines. They need to win a few times before they can learn how to avoid losing. Now, if Hedge comes by, you ain’t seen me, right?’

They watched him head off down the length of the colonnade.

‘That’s depressing,’ Cuttle muttered.

‘I’ll never make sergeant,’ Tarr said, ‘not in a thousand years. Damn.’

‘Good point, you just lifted my mood, Corporal. Thanks.’

Hedge pounced on his old friend at the end of the colonnade. ‘What’re you bothering with them for, Fid? These Bonehunters ain’t Bridgeburners and those Letherii ain’t soldiers. You’re wasting your time.’

‘Gods below, stop stalking me!’

Hedge’s expression fell. ‘It’s not that, Fid. Only, we were friends-’

‘And then you died. So I went and got over you. And now you show up all over again. If you were just a ghost then maybe I could deal with it-aye, I know you whispered in my ear every now and then, and saved my skin and all that and it’s not that I ain’t grateful either. But… well, we ain’t squad mates any more, are we? You came back when you weren’t supposed to, and in your head you’re still a Bridgeburner and you think the same of me. Which is why you keep slagging off these Bonehunters, like it was some rival division. But it isn’t, because the Bridgeburners are finished, Hedge. Dust and ashes. Gone.’

‘All right all right! So maybe I need to make some adjustments, too. I can do that! Easy. Watch me! First thing-I’ll get the captain to give me a squad-’

‘What makes you think you deserve to lead a squad?’

‘Because I was a-’

‘Exactly. A damned Bridgeburner! Hedge, you’re a sapper-’

‘So are you!’

‘Mostly I leave that to Cuttle these days-’

‘You did the drum! Without me!’

‘You weren’t there-’

‘That makes no difference!’

‘How can it not make a difference?’

‘Let me work on that. The point is, you were doing sapping stuff, Fid. In fact, the point is, you and me need to get drunk and find us some whores-’

‘Only works the other way round, Hedge.’

‘Now you’re talking! And listen, I’ll get a finger-bone nose-ring so I can fit right in with these bloodthirsty Bonehunters you’re so proud of, how does that sound?’

Fiddler stared at the man. His ridiculous leather cap with its earflaps, his hopeful grin. ‘Get a nose-ring and I’ll kill you myself, Hedge. Fine, then, let’s stir things up. Just don’t even think about asking for a squad, all right?’

‘So what am I supposed to do instead?’

‘Tag along with Gesler’s squad-I think it’s short of a body.’ And then he snorted a laugh. ‘A body. You. Good one.’

‘I told you I wasn’t dead no more, Fid.’