Strings loosed a half-dozen dockside curses. 'Hood take us! Listen, soldier, I ain't forgotten anything, you know. I remember you playing dice with Meanas, making dolls of Hood and the Rope. Earth-magic and talking with spirits – gods below, you're so much like Quick Ben it makes my hair stand on end. Oh, right, it all comes from your grandmother – but you see, I know where Quick got his talents!'
Bottle frowned at the man. 'What?'
'What do you mean what?'
'What are you talking about, Sergeant? You've got me confused.'
'Quick's got more warrens to draw on than any mage I've ever heard about. Except,' he added in a frustrated snarl, 'except maybe you.'
'But I don't even like warrens!'
'No, you're closer to Nil and Nether, aren't you? Spirits and stuff.
When you're not playing with Hood and Shadow, that is!'
'They're older than warrens, Sergeant.'
'Like that! What do you mean by that?'
'Well. Holds. They're holds. Or they were. Before warrens. It's old magic, that's what my grandmother taught me. Real old. Anyway, I've changed my mind about Nil and Nether. They're up to something and I want to see it.'
'But you don't want them to see us.'
Bottle shrugged. 'Too late for that, Sergeant. They know we're here.'
'Fine, lead on, then. But I want Quick Ben to meet you. And I want to know all about these holds you keep talking about.'
No you don't. 'All right.' Quick Ben. A meeting. That was bad. Maybe I could run away. No, don't be an idiot. You can't run away, Bottle.
Besides, what were the risks of talking with the High Mage? He wasn't doing anything wrong, exactly. Not really. Not so anybody would know, anyway. Except a sneaky bastard like Quick Ben. Abyss, what if he finds out who's walking in my shadow? Well, it's not like I asked for the company, is it? 'Whatever you're thinking,' Strings said in a growl, 'it's got my skin crawling.'
'Not me. Nil and Nether. They've begun a ritual. I've changed my mind again – maybe we should go back.'
'No.'
They began ascending the gentle slope.
Bottle felt sudden sweat trickling beneath his clothes. 'You've got some natural talent, haven't you, Sergeant? Skin crawling and all that. You're sensitive to… stuff.'
'I had a bad upbringing.'
'Where's Gesler's squad gone?'
Strings shot him a glance. 'You're doing it again.'