Gardens of the Moon (The Malazan Book of the Fallen #1)

Gardens of the Moon (The Malazan Book of the Fallen #1) Page 115

“Then why isn't she breaking down your door?”

Tattersail's eyes were on the jewellery scattered on the dresser. “Oponn severed the link, Captain.”

“I dislike the thought of exchanging one set of shackles for another,” Paran grumbled.

“There's more to this,” Tattersail insisted, more to herself than to the captain. “Lorn has a T'lan Imass with her.”

Paran jerked upright.

“Hairlock's snide hints,” she explained. “I believe the mission was twofold. Kill Sorry, yes, but also kill Whiskeyjack and his squad. The T'lan would not be involved if her plan concerned just you. Her Otataral sword is sufficient to destroy Sorry, and possibly kill the Rope as well, assuming that's who's possessing the girl.”

“I would not like to believe that,” Paran said. “They are my command. My responsibility. The Adjunct would not betray me so-”

“Wouldn't she? Why not?”

The captain seemed at a loss to answer her, but there was a stubborn glower in his eyes.

Tattersail reached the decision she had sensed was coming, and it left her cold. “Hairlock left too early. The puppet was eager, too eager to pursue the Adjunct and that T'lan Imass. He must have discovered something about them, about what they're up to.”

“Who is Hairlock's master?” Paran asked.

“Quick Ben, Whiskeyjack's mage.” She looked to him. “He's the best I've seen. Not the most powerful, mind you, but smart. Still, if the T'lan Imass comes on him unawares he won't stand a chance, and neither will the rest.” She paused, her eyes holding on the captain. “I have to leave Pale,” she said abruptly.

Paran shot to his feet. “Not alone.”

“Alone,” Tattersail insisted. “I have to find Whiskeyjack, and if you're tagging along then Lorn will find him too.”

“I refuse to believe the Adjunct presents any risk to the sergeant,” Paran said. “Tell me, can you succeed in killing Sorry? Even with Quick Ben's help?”

The sorceress hesitated. “I'm not sure I want to,” she said slowly.

“What?”

“It has to be Whiskeyjack's decision, Captain. And I don't think I can give any good reason for convincing you of that. I just feel it's right.”

She felt herself relying on instinct in this matter, but vowed to hold true to it.

“Even so,” Paran said, “I can't remain hiding here, can I? What do I eat? The bedding?”

“I can get you out into the city,” Tattersail said. “None will recognize you. Take a room in an inn and stay out of your uniform. If all goes well I'll be back in two weeks. You can wait that long, can't you, Captain?”

Paran stared. “And what happens if I just walk out of here and introduce myself to Dujek Onearm?”

“The High Mage Tayschrerm would shred your brain with truthseeking sorcery, Captain. You've Oponn's touch, and after tonight Oponn is now an official enemy of the Empire. And when Tayschrenn's done he'll leave you to die, which is preferable to the madness that would grip you if he kept you alive. He'll show that mercy, at least.” Tattersail anticipated Paran's thoughts. “Dujek might well seek to protect you, but in this Tayschrenn outranks him. You've become a tool of Oponn, and for Dujek the safety of his soldiers takes precedence over his pleasure in frustrating Tayschrenn. So, in fact, he might not protect you at all. I'm sorry, Captain, but you're truly alone if you walk.”

“I'll be alone when you leave, too, Sorceress.”

“I know, but it won't be for ever.” She searched his eyes and felt compassion welling behind her own. “Paran,” she said, “it's not all bad. Despite all the distrust between us, I'm feeling things for you I haven't felt for anyone in-well, in some time.” She smiled sadly. “I don't know what that's worth, Captain, but I'm glad I said it anyway.”

Paran gazed at her for a long minute, then said, “Very well, Tattersail, I'll do as you ask. An inn? Do you have some local coin?”

“Easily acquired.” Her shoulders slumped. “I'm sorry, but I'm exhausted.” As she turned to the bedroom her gaze fell on the dresser-top one last time. Amid a small pile of underclothing she saw her Deck of Dragons. It would be foolish not to do a reading, considering the decision she'd made.

Paran spoke close behind her. “Tattersail, how thorough is your exhaustion?”

She felt the heat in his words triggering a smouldering fire beneath her stomach, and her gaze slid away from the Deck as she turned to face the captain. Though she voiced no reply to his question, her answer was clear. He took her hand, surprising her with such an innocent gesture. So young, she thought, and now he's leading me into the bedroom. She would have laughed if the act hadn't been so sweet.