The Bonehunters (The Malazan Book of the Fallen #6)
The Bonehunters (The Malazan Book of the Fallen #6) Page 145
The Bonehunters (The Malazan Book of the Fallen #6) Page 145
And what does he do? He runs into a burning palace. With a half-dozen cussers on his back. Gods, he was right on one thing, though, the fire couldn't take him – he went, way in, and that's what's saved us… so far. Blew that storm back. Saved us…
Soldiers all round him were blistered, burned. They coughed with every breath drawn into scorched lungs. But not me. He could sense that godling, within that firestorm. Could sense it, a child raging with the knowledge that it was going to die all too soon. Good, you don't deserve nothing more. Fire couldn't hurt him, but that didn't mean he had to kneel before it in prayer, did it? He didn't ask for any of this. Him and Stormy and Truth – only, Truth was dead, now. He'd never expected…
'and I says oh I says that ole bridge got feeta stone, and mortar white as bone and the badgers dangle from the ledge swingin' alla day alla way home oh we was pullin vines from you know where and stuffin our ears with sweety sweet loam jus t'get them badgers flyin' outa there inta them cook pots in the hearthy homeand don't they taste sweet! and don't they taste sweet! sweet as peat, oh yes sweet as peat-'
When he got out of here, he was going to wring Crump's scrawny neck.
High Marshal? Gods below 'and I says oh I says that warlock's tower-'
Corporal Tarr pulled on Balgrid's arms, ignoring the man's squeals.
How the mage had managed to stay fat through that endless march was baffling. And now, all too likely to prove deadly. Mind you, fat could be squeezed, when muscled bulk couldn't. That was something, at least.
Balgrid shrieked as Tarr dragged him through the crevasse. 'You're tearing my arms off!'
'You plug up here, Balgrid,' Tarr said, 'and Urb behind you's gonna take out his knife-'
A muted voice from the huge man behind Balgrid: 'Damn right. I'll joint you like a pig, mage. I swear it.'
The darkness was the worst of all – never mind the spiders, the scorpions and centipedes, it was the darkness that clawed and chewed on Tarr's sanity. At least Bottle had a rat's eyes to look through.
Rats could see in the dark, couldn't they? Then again, maybe they couldn't. Maybe they just used their noses, their whiskers, their ears. Maybe they were too stupid to go insane.
Or they're already insane. We're being led by an insane rat'I'm stuck again, oh gods! I can't move!'
'Stop yelling,' Tarr said, halting and twisting round yet again.
Reaching out for the man's arms. 'Hear that, Balgrid?'
'What? What?'
'Not sure. Thought I heard Urb's knives coming outa their sheaths.'
The mage heaved himself forward, kicking, clawing.
'You stop moving again,' Balm snarled to the child in front of him, ' and the lizards will get you. Eat you alive. Eat us all alive. Those are crypt lizards, you damned whelp. You know what crypt lizards do?
I'll tell you what they do. They eat human flesh. That's why they're called crypt lizards, only they don't mind if it's living flesh-'
'For Hood's sake!' Deadsmell growled behind him. 'Sergeant – that ain' t the way-'
'Shut your mouth! He's still moving, ain't he? Oh yes, ain't he just.
Crypt lizards, runt! Oh yes!'
'Hope you ain't nobody's uncle, Sergeant.'
'You're getting as bad as Widdershins, Corporal, with that babbling mouth of yours. I want a new squad-'
'Nobody'll have you, not after this-'
'You don't know nothing, Deadsmell.'
'I know if I was that child ahead of you, I'd shit right in your face.'
'Quiet! You give him ideas, damn you! Do it, boy, and I'll tie you up, oh yes, and leave you for the crypt lizards-'
'Listen to me, little one!' Deadsmell called out, his voice echoing. '
Them crypt lizards, they're about as long as your thumb! Balm's just being a-'
'I'm going to skewer you, Deadsmell. I swear it!'
Corabb Bhilan Thenu'alas dragged himself forward. The Malazan in his wake was gasping – the only indication that the man still followed.
They had managed to drop one of the copper panels over the pit, burning their hands – bad burns, the pain wouldn't go away – Corabb's palms felt like soft wax, pushed out of shape by the stones they gripped, the ledges they grasped.
He had never felt such excruciating pain before. He was sheathed in sweat, his limbs trembling, his heart hammering like a trapped beast in his chest.
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