He found the mage on his hands and knees on the floor, his butt in the air, as he shuffled about running his hands over the dusty floorboards, moaning.
Dancer knelt beside him, taking his shoulder. ‘What is it! Are you wounded?’ Choss, Tocaras and Lee crowded the doorway together with several of the Malazan bodyguards.
The Dal Hon pressed his hands to his wrinkled forehead. ‘Gone! It’s gone! I’ve searched everywhere!’
Dancer scanned the dirty boards. ‘What’s gone? What is it?’
‘My stone!’
Dancer flinched away. Oh, for the love of Burn! He pushed the lad over and crossed to the side table to pour himself a drink. Seeing everyone in the doorway, he waved them off. The Napans exchanged uncertain glances, but nodded, and headed back downstairs. Two of the bodyguards shut the door and waited outside.
Kellanved had dusted himself off and retreated to the broad empty expanse of his desk. ‘Someone has taken it,’ he announced, steepling his fingers, his gaze narrowing.
Dancer tossed back his drink. ‘It’s just a rock. Forget it.’
Kellanved shook his head. ‘Oh no, my friend. There’s more to it than that. I can sense it.’ He tapped his fingertips together. ‘I just can’t parse its secret yet.’
A knock and the door opened to reveal Surly, Lee behind her. ‘There a problem?’
‘No—’ Dancer began.
‘Who’s been in here?’ Kellanved demanded.
Dancer looked to the ceiling in mute frustration. Surly shrugged. ‘Just about everyone at one time or another.’
‘The office was tossed, wasn’t it – Lee?’
She nodded. ‘Yes. Geffen’s boys ran through everything looking for valuables.’
The shrivelled fellow, looking even more frail and tiny behind his huge desk, tapped his fingers to his lips. ‘No … they wouldn’t have touched it.’
‘Touched what?’ Lee asked.
Kellanved waved her away. ‘Never mind!’ To Surly, he said, ‘Who cleaned up in here?’
Her mouth turned down as she considered. ‘Urko did most of that.’
‘Send him up.’
‘Kellanved…’ Dancer began, but the mage raised a hand to forestall him.
‘Just a few questions.’
Dancer sighed, leaned back against the low table, stretched out his legs, and crossed his arms.
A while later Urko came stomping up the stairs. He wore a stained leather apron, his sleeves pushed up over his thick forearms.
Kellanved nodded to him. ‘Ah, good, Urko. Have you seen a…’ He looked him up and down. ‘What are you doing?’
‘Rendering.’
The mage blinked. ‘Right. Rendering.’ It was clear to Dancer from the way he said it that he had no idea what rendering was. He flapped a hand. ‘Well. When you cleaned up here, did you find any curios, odd stones, bits and bobs, that sort of thing?’
The huge fellow tucked his ham hands up under his armpits, and cocked his head, thinking. He nodded, his head tilted. ‘Yeah. I remember. Two of Burn’s gifts: a stone shell and a stone animal tooth, and one of them worked pieces of flint that turn up all over.’
‘Like an arrowhead?’
‘Yeah. But ’tisn’t. It’s a broken tip from a spear. River-smoothed. Real glossy. From them old people from ages ago.’
Kellanved’s shoulders eased and he nodded. ‘Yes. That’s it. It’s one of my favourites. Do you still have it?’
He frowned then, almost wary. ‘Yeah, I got it. It’s in the kitchen. It’s a nice piece.’
‘May I have it back?’
‘Back? I found it, y’know.’
‘Found it? I found it, I’ll have you know!’
Dancer pushed forward, hands raised. To Urko he said, ‘What would you like – for it, I mean?’
The big fellow’s hands were out now. He slammed one fist into a palm, considering. ‘A ship,’ he finally said. ‘A captaincy.’
‘A captaincy?’ Kellanved protested in disbelief. ‘For a rock?’
Urko threw a hand in the air, half turning away. ‘Fine!’
‘Okay!’ Kellanved called, clutching the edge of the desk. ‘Okay. Yes. You can have the Twisted.’
‘Not that ship. Another.’
Kellanved raised his hands in surrender. ‘Very well! Another. A ship. Yours.’
The fellow cheered up immensely, grinning. ‘Good! A command. And before Cartheron.’ He chortled all the way down the stairs.
Dancer examined the mage until he hunched his shoulders, demanding, ‘What?’
Dancer pointed to the stairs. ‘You’re giving away captaincies for shiny rocks now?’
The little fellow flapped a hand. ‘He was going to get one anyway, wasn’t he?’
Dancer considered, scratched his brow, then shrugged. ‘Hunh. I suppose so.’
‘There you go.’
Lee entered, holding out a triangular brown stone. ‘Urko told me to bring this up.’
Dancer held out a hand and she tossed it to him. He crossed the room and dropped it on to the empty desktop. It clattered there noisily and Dancer stood looking down at it for rather a long time. Then he picked it up again and dropped it once more.
Kellanved, who had been twiddling his thumbs, now looked up, puzzled.
Dancer pushed the rock with a finger and it spun lazily.
Lee cleared her throat. ‘Ah … is that all?’
Both men were staring, fascinated, at the rock. Dancer looked over, distracted, and waved her out. She went, shaking her head at the craziness of her employers, and Dancer returned to studying the worked stone spear-tip. It occurred to him that he’d seen it fall to the ground many times. In Heng, now that he thought about it, it had always pointed west. Now, when he flicked it, it rocked and spun, yet always returned to point north.
Every time.
Kellanved was staring, his eyes huge. He pressed his fists to his chin, triumphant. ‘Yes! I knew it!’
‘Knew what?’
‘It points the way, Dancer.’
‘The way? The way to what?’
Kellanved raised a finger into the air and whispered, his voice lowered, peering about as if someone were listening: ‘To the graveyard of the Army of Bone.’
Dancer flinching away, scowling. ‘Children’s bedtime stories.’
‘No, true. An ancient army, cursed to search forever – so they say.’
‘Search for what?’
The little fellow flicked his fingers, irritated. ‘Well … for their enemy, I assume. What else does an army search for?’
‘A tavern?’
Kellanved made a face. ‘Very funny. No, this is very important. We’ll have to leave right away.’
Dancer stared; then, seeing that the lad was serious, laughed his utter disbelief. ‘Leave? In case you’ve forgotten, you promised these people you’d take Nap.’
Kellanved waved all that aside. ‘Yes, yes. We’ll manage that. But this . .’
Dancer eyed him. ‘Look, I’m going to collect my kit, okay?’ He pointed, glaring. ‘No taking off without me, all right?’ The little fellow’s wrinkled chin was resting on his hands, flat on the desk, and he was staring at the rock, fascinated.
‘All right?’ Dancer repeated.
The mage blinked, glanced to him, flicked a hand. ‘Yes, yes.’
‘Good.’ Dancer paused at the door to peer back. Kellanved was poking at the rock, making it spin. He shook his head and shut the door, thinking, If he leaves without me, I’ll kill him.
* * *
When Lee returned downstairs Surly waved for her to join her in the kitchen. The Napan named Cartheron, she noticed, followed her in. Surly sent a glance to the giant fellow, Urko, who went to guard the rear door. The other brother, Cartheron, stood watch at the inner door – pale and sweaty from a serious wound, but standing just the same.
Surly eyed Lee up and down, and Lee, in turn, eyed Surly. Lean and hard was her evaluation; and she’d seen her in action, too, against Geffen. This one was no fool.