Midnight Tides & The Bonehunters - By Steven Erikson Page 0,268

from you.'

'All right. But here you are, about to take a far more active role ...'

'This goes back, old man. Edur or human, I do not want to see a revisiting of the T'lan Imass.'

After a moment, Bugg nodded. 'The Pack. I see. I have never liked you much, but this time I am afraid I have to agree with you.'

'That warms my heart.'

'To be so benignly judged? I suppose it would at that.'

He laughed, then, with a careless wave, walked past Bugg.

The problem with gods, Bugg decided, was the way they ended up getting dragged along. Wherever their believers went. This one had vanished from memory everywhere else, as extinct as the Holds themselves.

So. T'lan Imass, the Pack, and the coming of the Jheck. Soletaken worshippers of their ancient lord, and, from the potential resurrection of that ancient cult, a possible return of the T'lan Imass, to expunge the madness.

What had driven him to act now, then? In this particular matter? The answer came to Bugg, and he smiled without humour. It's called guilt.

A metallic tapping woke Tehol Beddict. He sat up, looked round. It was nearing late afternoon. The tapping was repeated and he glanced over to see his bodyguard, weapon drawn, standing at the roof's edge on the alley side. The man gestured him over.

Climbing gingerly from the rickety bed, Tehol tiptoed to the bodyguard's side.

Down in the alley below a shape was crawling along beneath a stained tarp of some sort. Slow but steady progress towards the corner.

'I admit,' Tehol said, 'it's a curious thing. But sufficient cause to wake me up? Ah, there I have doubts. The city is full of crawling things, after all. Well, on a normal day, that is. Here we are, however, so perhaps it might be amusing if we follow its tortured journey.'

The shape reached the corner, then edged round it.

Tehol and his companion tracked it from above. Along the wall, then into the aisle leading to the entrance to Tehol's house.

'Ah, it is paying us a visit. Whatever it's selling, I'm not sure I want any. We are facing a conundrum, my friend. You know how I hate being rude. Then again, what if it is selling some horrible disease?'

It reached the doorway, slipped inside.

The bodyguard walked to the hatch and looked down. After a moment, Tehol followed. As he peered over he heard a familiar voice call up.

'Tehol. Get down here.'

'Shurq?'

A gesturing shape in the gloom.

'Best wait here,' Tehol said to his guard. 'I think she wants privacy. You can keep an eye on the entrance from up here, right? Excellent. I'm glad we're agreed.' He climbed down the ladder.

'I have a problem,' she said when he reached the floor.

'Anything I can do for you, Shurq, I shall. Did you know you have a spike of some sort in your forehead?'

'That's my problem, you idiot.'

'Ah. Would you like me to pull it out?'

'I don't think that's a good idea, Tehol.'

'Not worse, surely, than leaving it there.'

'The issue is not as clear as it appears to be,' Shurq said. 'Something is holding it. It's not nearly as loose as one would hope.'

'Are you concentrating on it?'

She said nothing.

He hastily added, 'Maybe it's bent or something.'

'It goes through to the back of my skull. There may be a flange of some sort.'

'Why not push it right through?'

'And leave the back of my head in pieces?'

'Well, the only other possibility I can think of at the moment, Shurq, is to pull it out a little bit, saw it off, then push what's left back in. Granted, you'd have a hole, but you could take to wearing a bandanna or head-scarf, at least until we visit Selush.'

'Not bad. But what if it starts clunking around in my head? Besides, bandannas are pathetically out of date as far as fashion goes. I would be mortified to be seen in public.'

'Selush might well have a solution to that, Shurq. A stopper with a diamond in it, or a patch of skin sewn over the hole.'

'A diamond-studded plug. I like that.'

'You'll launch a new trend.'

'Do you think Ublala will like it, Tehol?'

'Of course he will. As for the clunking, well, that's a definite problem. But it seems evident that you're not using your brain. I mean, that physical stuff in there. Your soul is simply making use of the body, right? Probably out of a sense of familiarity. Given that, maybe we could pull it out—'

'No. I like the idea of sawing it. And the