“Jump,” Quick Ben said. “I'll stall them.”
“With what?” Kalam demanded, tottering on the edge.
In answer Quick Ben produced a small vial. He spun in the air and hurled it.
Kalam cursed, then jumped.
The vial struck the rooftop and shattered with a thin tinkle. Beyond, the three assassins paused. Quick Ben remained, his eyes on the white smoke rising from the glass shards. A figure took form within the smoke, growing in size. Its shape was almost insubstantial, the smoke stretching like threads in places, curling like wool in others. All that was visible within it was its eyes, two black slits, which it swung to Quick Ben.
“You,” it said, its voice that of a child, “are not Master Tayschrenn.”
“That's right,” Quick Ben said, “but I'm in his legion. Your service remains with the Empire.” He pointed across the roof. “There are three who are the Empire's enemies, Demon. Tiste And? here to oppose the Malazan Empire.”
“My name is Pearl,” the Korvalah demon said softly, then turned to the three assassins, who had spread out along the far edge. “They are not fleeing,” Pearl said, with a note of surprise.
Quick Ben wiped sweat from his forehead. He glanced down. Kalam was a vague shape waiting in the alley below. “I know,” he said to Pearl.
That observation had unnerved him as well. One of Tayschrenn's Korvalahrai could level a city if it so chose.
“They accept my challenge,” Pearl said, facing Quick Ben again. “Should I pity them?”
“No,” he answered. “Just kill them and be done with it.”
“Then I return to Master Tayschrenn.”
“Yes.”
“What is your name, Wizard?”
He hesitated, then said, “Ben Adaephon Delat.”
“You are supposed to be dead,” Pearl said. “Your name is so marked on the scrolls of those High Mages who fell to the Empire in Seven Cities.”
Quick Ben glanced up. “Others are coming, Pearl. You are in for a fight.”
The demon lifted its gaze. Above them glowing figures descended, five in the first wave, one in the second. This last one radiated such power that Quick Ben shrank back, his blood chilled. The figure had something long and narrow strapped to its back.
“Ben Adaephon Delat,” Pearl said plaintively, “see the last who comes. You send me to my death.”
“I know,” Quick Ben whispered.
“Flee, then. I will hold them enough to ensure your escape, no more.”
Quick Ben sank down past the roof.
Before he passed from sight Pearl spoke again. “Ben Adaephon Delat, do you pity me?”
“Yes,” he replied softly, then pivoted and dropped down into darkness.
Raffick walked down the centre of the street. On either side of the wide corridor rose columns from which gas torches jutted, casting circles of blue light on to the wet cobblestones. The light rain had returned, coating I everything in a slick sheen. To his right and beyond the resident houses lining that side of the street, the pale domes of the High Thalanti on the hill glistened against the deep grey sky.
The temple was among the oldest structures in the city, its founding blocks over two thousand years old. The Thalanti monks had come, like so many others, carried on the wings of the rumour. Rallick knew less about the story than did Murillio and Coll. One of the Elder Peoples was believed to have been entombed among the hills, an individual of great wealth and power, that was the extent of his knowledge.
But it had been a rumour with many consequences. If not for the thousands of shafts sunk into the earth the caverns of gas would never have been found. And while many of those shafts had collapsed or had been forgotten over the centuries, still others remained, now connected by tunnels.
In one of the many chambers that honeycombed the ground beneath the temple waited Vorcan, Master of Assassins. Rallick imagined Ocelot making his descent, burdened with the news of disaster, and it brought a smile to his lean face. He'd never met Vorcan, but Ocelot suited those catacombs-just another of the city's rats rushing about beneath his feet.
One day, Rallick knew, he'd become a Clan Leader, he'd meet Vorcan face to face somewhere below. He wondered at how it would change him, and travelling down this path soured his thoughts with displeasure.
He had no option. Once, he thought, as he approached the block of the Phoenix Inn, long ago, there'd been choices he could have made that would have sent him on a different path. But those days were dead, and the future held only nights, a stretch of darkness that led down to the eternal dark. He would meet Vorcan, eventually, and he'd swear his life to the Guild Master, and that would be that, the closing of the final door.