treason, for, if you do as I ask, you two will walk step in step. You will face no conflict, no matter what may occur, or what you may discover in your travels.’
‘Where is this… Delat?’
His brows rose, as if he was caught off guard momentarily by the question, then he sighed and nodded. ‘I have no hold over him these days, alas. Why? He is too powerful. Too mysterious. Too conniving. Too Hood-damned smart. Indeed, even Shadowthrone has turned his attentions elsewhere. I would love to arrange a reunion, but I am afraid I have not that power.’ He hesitated, then added, ‘Sometimes, one must simply trust in fate, Lostara. The future can ever promise but one thing and one thing only: surprises. But know this, we would all save the Malazan Empire, in our own ways. Will you help me?’
‘If I did, would that make me a Talon?’
Cotillion’s smile broadened. ‘But, my dear, the Talons no longer exist.’
‘Oh, really, Cotillion, would you ask my help and then play me for a fool?’
The smile slowly faded. ‘But I am telling you, the Talons no longer exist. Surly annihilated them. Is there knowledge you possess that would suggest otherwise?’
She was silent a moment, then turned away. ‘No. I simply… assumed.’
‘Indeed. Will you help me then?’
‘Pearl is on his way,’ Lostara said, facing the god once again.
‘I am capable of brevity when need be.’
‘What is it you want me to do?’
Half a bell later there was a light rap upon the door and Pearl entered.
And immediately halted. ‘I smell sorcery.’
Seated on the bed, Lostara shrugged then rose to collect her kit bag. ‘There are sequences in the Shadow Dance,’ she said casually, ‘that occasionally evoke Rashan.’
‘Rashan! Yes.’ He stepped close, his gaze searching. ‘The Shadow Dance. You?’
‘Once. Long ago. I hold to no gods, Pearl. Never have. But the Dance, I’ve found, serves me in my fighting. Keeps me flexible, and I need that the most when I am nervous or unhappy.’ She slung the bag over a shoulder and waited.
Pearl’s eyebrows rose. ‘Nervous or unhappy?’
She answered him with a sour look, then walked to the doorway. ‘You said you’ve stumbled on a lead…’
He joined her. ‘I have at that. But a word of warning first. Those sequences that evoke Rashan-it would be best for us both if you avoided them in the future. That kind of activity risks drawing… attention.’
‘Very well. Now, lead on.’
A lone guard slouched outside the estate’s gate, beside a bound bundle of straw. Pale green eyes tracked Lostara and Pearl as they approached from across the street. The man’s uniform and armour were dull with dust. A small human finger bone hung on a brass loop from one ear. His expression was sickly, and he drew a deep breath before saying, ‘You the advance? Go back and tell her we’re not ready.’
Lostara blinked and glanced over at Pearl.
Her companion was smiling. ‘Do we look like messengers, soldier?’
The guard’s eyes thinned. ‘Didn’t I see you dancing on a table down at Pugroot’s Bar?’
Pearl’s smile broadened. ‘And have you a name, soldier?’
‘Maybe.’
‘Well, what is it?’
‘I just told you. Maybe. Do you need me to spell it or something?’
‘Can you?’
‘No. I was just wondering if you was stupid, that’s all. So, if you’re not the Adjunct’s advance, come to warn us about that surprise inspection, then what do you want?’
‘A moment,’ Pearl said, frowning. ‘How can an inspection be a surprise if there’s advance warning?’
‘Hood’s leathery feet, you are stupid after all. That’s how it’s done-’
‘A warning, then.’ He glanced at Lostara and winked as he added, ‘Seems I’m offering those all day. Listen, Maybe, the Adjunct won’t be warning you about her inspections-and don’t expect your officers to do so either. She has her own rules, and you’d better get used to it.’
‘You still ain’t told me what you want.’
‘I need to speak to a certain soldier of the 5th squad of the 9th Company, and I understand he is stationed in the temporary barracks here.’
‘Well, I’m in the 6th, not the 5th.’
‘Yes… so?’
‘Well, it’s obvious then, isn’t it? You don’t want to speak to me at all. Go on in, you’re wasting my time. And hurry up, I’m not feeling too well.’
The guard opened the gate and watched them stride inside, his eyes falling to Lostara’s swaying hips for a long moment before he slammed the reinforced gate shut.
Beside him, the bale of straw shimmered suddenly then reformed as an overweight young man seated cross- legged on the cobbles.
Maybe’s head turned and he sighed. ‘Don’t do that again-not near me, Balgrid. Magic makes me want to puke.’
‘I had no choice but to maintain the illusion,’ Balgrid replied, drawing a sleeve across his sweat-beaded brow. ‘That bastard was a Claw!’
‘Really? I could have sworn I saw him wearing a woman’s clothes and dancing at Pug-’
‘Will you shut up with that! Pity the poor bastard he’s looking for in the 5th!’
Maybe suddenly grinned. ‘Hey, you just fooled a real live Claw with that damned illusion! Nice work!’
‘You ain’t the only one feeling sick,’ Balgrid muttered.
Thirty paces took Lostara and Pearl across the compound to the stables.
‘That was amusing,’ said the man at her side.
‘And what was the point?’
‘Oh, just to see them sweat.’
‘Them?’
‘The man and the bale, of course. Well, here we are.’ As she reached to draw back one of the broad doors, Pearl closed a hand on her wrist. ‘In a moment. Now, there’s actually more than one person within that we need to question. A couple of veterans-leave them to me. There’s also a lad, was a guard at a mining camp. Work your charms on him while I’m talking with the other two.’
Lostara stared at him. ‘My charms,’ she said, deadpan.
Pearl grinned. ‘Aye, and if you leave him smitten, well, consider it a future investment in case we need the lad later.’
‘I see.’
She opened the door, stepping back to let Pearl precede her. The air within the stables was foul. Urine, sweat, honing oil and wet straw. Soldiers were everywhere, lying or sitting on beds or on items from a collection of ornate furniture that had come from the main house. There was little in the way of conversation, and even that fell away as heads turned towards the two strangers.
‘Thank you,’ Pearl drawled, ‘for your attention. I would speak with Sergeant Gesler and Corporal Stormy…’
‘I’m Gesler,’ a solid-looking, bronze-skinned man said from where he sprawled on a plush couch. ‘The one snoring under those silks is Stormy. And if you come from Oblat tell him we’ll pay up… eventually.’
Smiling, Pearl gestured at Lostara to follow and strode up to the sergeant. ‘I am not here to call in your debts. Rather, I would like to speak with you in private… concerning your recent adventures.’
‘Is that right. And who in Fener’s hoofprint are you?’
‘This is an imperial matter,’ Pearl said, his gaze falling to Stormy. ‘Will you wake him or shall I? Further, my companion wishes to speak with the soldier named Pella.’
Gesler’s grin was cool. ‘You want to wake my corporal? Go right ahead. As for Pella, he’s not here at the moment.’
Pearl sighed and stepped to the side of the bed. A moment’s study of the heap of expensive silks burying the
