Answer? To what? she wanted to ask. Yet something stopped her, a surge of fear that said to her: You don't want to know. Remain ignorant in this. «Let's get on with it,» she grated.
Tool resumed his march into the darkness.
After a minute Lorn asked, «How much time is this going to take?»
«Time?» There was amusement in his voice. «Within this barrow, Adjunct, time does not exist. The Jaghut who imprisoned their kin brought an age of ice to this land, the barrow's final seal. Adjunct, a halfleague of ice stands over this burial chamber-still. We have come to a time and place before the faltering of the Jaghut ice, before the coming of the great inland sea known to the Imass as Jhagra Til, before the passing of countless ages-»
«And when we return?» Lorn interrupted. «How much time will have passed?»
«I cannot say, Adjunct.» The Imass paused and turned back to her, his eye sockets glimmering with a sourceless light. «I have never done this before.»
Despite the hardened leather armour, the feel of a woman pressing against Crokus's back had brought to his face more sweat than the afternoon heat could account for. Yet it was a mix of feelings that had his heart thumping against his chest. On the one hand was the bald fact that here was a girl of nearly his age, and an attractive one at that, with surprisingly strong arms wrapped around his waist and her warm, moist breath on his neck. On the other hand, this woman had murdered a man and the only reason he could think of her arriving on the scene back there in the hills was that she'd been planning to kill him, too. So he found himself too tense to enjoy sharing the saddle with her.
They had said little to each other since leaving Coll. In another da), Crokus knew, Darujhistan's walls would come into view. He wondered if she'd remember it. And then a voice spoke in his head that soundel like Coll's: «Why don't you ask the girl, idiot?» Crokus scowled.
She spoke first. «Is Itko Kan far from here?»
He thought about laughing, but something-an instinct-stopped him. Tread softly, he told himself. «I've never heard of such a place,» he said. «It's in the Malazan Empire?»
«Yes. We aren't in the Empire?»
Crokus growled, «Not yet.» Then his shoulders slumped. «We're on a continent called Genabackis. The Malazans came from the seas both east and west. They now control all the Free Cities to the north, as well as the Nathilog Confederacy.»
«Oh,» the girl replied weakly. «You're at war with the Empire, then.»
«More or less, though you'd never know it as far as Darujhistan is concerned.»
«Is that the name of the town you live in?»
«Town? Darujhistan's a city. It's the biggest, richest city in all the land.»
There was awe and excitement in her reply. «A city. I've never been to a city. Your name is Crokus, isn't it?»
«How did you know that?»
«That's what your soldier friend called you.»
«Oh, of course.» Why did the fact that she'd known his name send his heart lurching?
«Aren't you going to ask me my name?» the woman asked quietly.
«You can remember it?»
«No,» she admitted. «That's strange, isn't it?»
He heard pathos in that reply, and something melted inside-making him even angrier. «Well, I can't very well help you in that, can 1?»
The woman seemed to withdraw behind him, and her arms loosened their grip. «No.»
Abruptly his anger fell away. Crokus was ready to scream at the chaos in his head. Instead he shifted in the saddle, forcing her to clutch him tightly. Ah, he smirked, that's better. Then his eyes widened. What am I saying?
«Crokus?»
«What?»
«Give me a Darujhistan name. Pick one. Pick your favourite.»
«Challice,» he responded immediately. «No, wait! You can't be Challice. I already know a Challice. You've got to be someone else.»
«Is she your girlfriend?»
«No!» he snapped. He pulled at the reins and they stopped. Crokus clawed at his hair, then threw a leg over and dropped to the ground. He pulled the reins over the horse's head. I want to walk,» he said.
«Yes,» she said. «I would like to, too.»
«Well, maybe I want to run!»
She stepped round to face him, her expression troubled. «Run? From me, Crokus?»
He saw things falling into ruins behind her eyes-what were those things? He felt a desperate need to know, but asking straight out was clearly impossible. Why it was impossible he couldn't say. It just was. He looked down at the ground and kicked at a rock. «No,» he mumbled. «I didn't mean that. Sorry.»
Her eyes widened. «That was my narne!» she gasped. «That was my name, Crokus-you just said my name!»
«What?» He frowned. «Sorry?»
«Yes!» She looked away. «Only, it wasn't always my name. I don't think. No. It wasn't the name my father gave me.»
«Can you remember that one?»
She shook her head and ran a hand through her long, dark hair.
Crokus started walking, and the girl fell into step beside him. The road wound down through the low hills. In an hour they'd reach the Catlin Bridge. The panic that had filled him was subsiding, perhaps having burned itself out. He felt relaxed, and that surprised him, since he couldn't recall the last time he'd felt relaxed in a female's company.
They walked in silence for a time. Ahead, the sun sank down in a golden blaze, shimmering along a blue and green line on the horizon beyond the hills. Crokus pointed to the glistening line. «That's Lake Azur. Darujhistan lies on its south shore.»
«Haven't you thought of a name for me yet?» the woman asked.
«The only name that comes to mind,» Crokus said sheepishly, «is my matron's.»
The girl glanced at him. «Your mother's?»
Crokus laughed. «No, not that kind of matron. I meant the Lady of Thieves, Apsalar. Only, it's not good to take that kind of name, since she's a goddess. What about Salar?»
Her nose wrinkled. «No, I like Apsalar. Make it Apsalar.»
«But I just said-»
«That's the name I want,» the girl insisted, her face darkening.
Uh-oh, Crokus thought. Better not press this one. «All right.» He sighed.
«So you're a thief.»
«What's wrong with that?»
Apsalar grinned. «Given my new name, nothing. Nothing at all. Crokus. When do we camp?»
He blanched. He hadn't thought about that. «Maybe we should just push on,» he said warily, not meeting her eyes.
«I'm tired. Why don't we camp at this Catlin Bridge?»
«Well, I've only got the one bedroll. You can have it. I'll stand watch,
«All night? What's there to watch out for?»
Crokus rounded on her. «Why all these questions?» he demanded hod, «It's dangerous out here! Didn't you see Coll's wound? And how do I know the garrison's still there?»
«What garrison?»
Crokus cursed himself. He averted his gaze. «The garrison on the other side of the bridge,» he said. «But it's a long bridge-»
«Oh, come on, Crokus!» Apsalar laughed and drove her elbow into his ribs. «We'll share the bedroll. I don't mind, so long as you keep your hands to yourself.»
Rubbing his ribs, Crokus could only stare at her.
Cursing, Kruppe glared over his shoulder at Murillio. «Damnation! Can't you urge that beast any faster?»
The mule was living up to its reputation, refusing anything but a plodding walk. Murillio grinned sheepishly. «What's the big hurry, Kruppe? The boy can take care of himself.»
«It was Master Baruk's explicit command that we guard him, and guard him we must!» Murillio's eyes narrowed. «So you keep saying,» he muttered. «Is this some favour on Mammot's behalf? Has the boy's uncle got all worried all of a sudden? Why's Baruk so interested in Crokus? You convey the alchemist's orders, Kruppe, but you don't explain them.»
Kruppe reined in his mount. «Oh, very well,» he said. «Mutiny in the ranks forces Kruppe's sly hand. Oponn has chosen Crokus, for whatever purposes the devious deity may devise. Baruk would have us keep an eye on the lad and, more, prevent any other powers from finding him.»
Murillio rubbed the bruise on his forehead and winced. «Damn you.» He sighed. «You should've explained all this from the start, Kruppe. Does Rallick know?»
«Of course not,» Kruppe replied tartly. «He's too busy, after all, unable to extricate himself from his various responsibilities. Hence,» Kruppe's expression turned crafty, «the assassin's absence on this journey. But why, pray tell, is Kruppe informing Murillio of such things? Clearly, Murillio knows more of Rallick's doings than poor, ignorant Kruppe.»
Murillio's look was blank. «What do you mean?»
Kruppe sniggered, then kicked his mule into motion once again.
Murillio followed.
«And as for our present mission,» Kruppe continued blithely, «what seems a vast failure, particularly on Coll's part, is in truth an astonishing success. Master Baruk must be made aware of the nefarious activities afoot in the Gadrobi Hills.»
«Success? What are you talking about?»
Kruppe waved a hand. «Dear man, though I was conscious but a moment during the fracas, clear it was that this woman warrior possessed an Otataral sword. Which means, as any child might guess, she's Malazan.»
Murillio hissed slowly between his teeth. «And we left Coll back there? Are you insane, Kruppe?»
«He'll mend enough to follow us shortly,» Kruppe said. «The need for haste overwhelms all other considerations.»
«Except cheap deals with a certain stabler,» Murillio growled. «So, there's some Malazan in the Gadrobi Hills. What's she up to? And don't try telling me you don't know. If you didn't suspect something we wouldn't be in such a hurry.»
«Suspicions, indeed.» Kruppe nodded, his shoulders hunching. «Recall Crokus uttering that perceptive comment as we left the crossroads? Hunting a rumour, or some such thing?»
«Wait a ininute.» Murillio groaned. «Not that barrow legend again? There's not a-»
Kruppe held up a finger and cut in smoothly, «What we believe is irrelevant, Murillio. The fact remains that the Malazans are seeking the truth of that rumour. And both Kruppe and Master Baruk
