'Yes. You know Quick Ben, and the High Mage was there, after all. At Coral. He's not here for me to ask him, so I'm asking you. Is the Adjunct right?'
He resumed affixing the grenado to the quarrel head.
Keneb waited.
'Seems,' the sergeant muttered, 'I misjudged the Adjunct.'
'In what way?'
'She's better at reading signs than I thought.'
Hood's balls, I really did not want to hear that.
'You are looking well, Ganoes Paran.'
His answering smile was wry. 'My new life of ease, Apsalar.'
Shouts from the sailors on the deck as the carrack swung towards the harbour of Kansu, the sound of gulls a muted accompaniment to the creak of cordage and timber. A cool breeze rode the salty air coming through the cabin's round window portside, smelling of the shore.
Apsalar studied the man seated across from her a moment longer, then returned to her task of roughing with a pumice stone the grip of one of her in-fighting knives. Polished wood was pretty, but far too slick in a sweaty hand. Normally she used leather gloves, but it never hurt to consider less perfect circumstances. For an assassin, the ideal situation was choosing when and where to fight, but such luxuries were not guaranteed.
Paran said, 'I see that you're as methodical as ever. Although at least now, there's more animation in your face. Your eyes…'
'You've been at sea too long, Captain.'
'Probably. Anyway, I'm not a captain any more. My days as a soldier are done.'
'Regrets?'
He shrugged. 'Some. I was never where I wanted to be with them. Until the very end, and then,' he paused, 'well, it was too late.'
'That might have been for the better,' Apsalar said. 'Less… sullied.'
'Odd, how the Bridgeburners mean different things for us. Memories, and perspectives. I was treated well enough among the survivors-'
'Survivors. Yes, there's always survivors.'
'Picker, Antsy, Blend, Mallet, a few others. Proprietors of K'rul's Bar, now, in Darujhistan.'
'K'rul's Bar?'
'The old temple once sanctified to that Elder God, aye. It's haunted, of course.'
'More than you realize, Paran.'
'I doubt that. I've learned a lot, Apsalar, about a lot of things.'
A heavy thud to starboard, as the harbour patrol arrived to collect the mooring fees. The slap of lines. More voices.
'K'rul played a very active role against the Pannion Domin,' Paran went on. 'Since that time, I've grown less easy with his presence – the Elder Gods are back in the game-'
'Yes, you've already said something to that effect. They are opposing the Crippled God, and one cannot find fault in that.'
'Are they? Sometimes I'm convinced… other times,' he shook his head.
Then rose. 'We're pulling in. I need to make arrangements.'
'What kind of arrangements?'
'Horses.'
'Paran.'
'Yes?'
'Are you now ascended?'
His eyes widened. 'I don't know. Nothing feels different. I admit I'm not even sure what ascendancy means.'
'Means you're harder to kill.'
'Why?'
'You have stumbled onto power, of a personal nature, and with it, well, power draws power. Always. Not the mundane kind, but something other, a force in nature, a confluence of energies. You begin to see things differently, to think differently. And others take notice of you – that's usually bad, by the way.' She sighed, studying him, and said, 'Perhaps I don't need to warn you, but I will. Be careful, Paran; of all the lands in this world, there are two more dangerous than all others-'
'Your knowledge, or Cotillion's?'
'Cotillion's for one, mine for the other. Anyway, you're about to set foot on one of those two. Seven Cities, Paran, is not a healthy place to be, especially not for an ascendant.'
'I know. I can feel that… what's out there, what I have to deal with.'
'Get someone else to do your fighting for you, if possible.'
His gaze narrowed on her. 'Now that's a clear lack of faith.'
'I killed you once-'
'And you were possessed by a god, by the Patron of Assassins himself, Apsalar.'
'Who played by the rules. There are things here that do not.'
'I'll give that some consideration, Apsalar. Thank you.'
'And remember, bargain from strength or don't bargain at all.'