‘There’ll be fighting when we move against Nap,’ Surly said, ‘but you don’t strike me as a sailor or a marine, isn’t that so?’
Lee crossed her arms. ‘I can fight.’
The Napan woman nodded. At some time, Lee noticed, she’d been hit very hard across the nose; it was flattened slightly. And she kept her hair short, just as Lee did. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘You gave us a very nice demonstration of that. Well done. But in the future don’t advertise your skills, hey?’
Lee nodded, wondering where this was headed.
‘You are no mage, are you?’
‘No.’
Surly continued gauging her. ‘So, you need work that will match your, ah, particular skill. I believe I have such work – if you are interested.’
Lee uncrossed her arms and clasped her hands behind her back; she was surprised to find them sweaty. She inclined her head: I’m interested.
‘Very good. I have people on the island of Nap who work for me. They need to know our plans. None of us Napans can go – we’d be detained on sight. You, however, aren’t Napan and aren’t known. I want you to deliver a message for us. Will you do this?’
For some reason Lee found that she couldn’t speak – yet inside all she was thinking was Yes! Real work! Not this wretched herding of street-toughs or intimidating shopkeepers. She nodded, fierce.
Surly inclined her head in answer. ‘Good. You will take a trader to the mainland. From there you will take another vessel to Dariyal, the capital of Nap. There you will find an inn called the Pin and Strake. You should see a man at the rear using a knife to eat or whittle. You will compliment him on the knife and you will ask him if it’s Wickan. Have you got that?’
Lee nodded again. ‘Yes. Wickan.’
‘He will leave the inn later and you will follow him. He will lead you to another man, a very large Napan – fat rather than muscular, not like Urko – and you will say to him: “Your worst student sends her regards.”’ Surly studied her critically. ‘Do you have that?’
‘Yes. Worst student.’
‘You understand that if you vary at all from these instructions you will be killed?’
Lee felt a fierce desire to leave at once – she could do this. I can do this. This woman, Surly, will see. She swallowed hard to say tautly, ‘Yes.’
The Napan nodded again. ‘Very good. He will ask if you have a message for him and you will say this: “We are proceeding by other means.” Repeat that, please.’
Lee took a breath to steel herself, repeated, ‘We are proceeding by other means.’
The woman smiled, faintly. Lee had the feeling that this was all the smile the woman would ever muster. ‘Good. Now, do not worry. It’s just a message. But your name is known, and I want you to change it. A new name for a new role. Can you think of one?’
She swallowed. ‘I’ve always liked the name Opal.’
Surly inclined her head in assent, accepting it. ‘Very good, Opal.’ She took hold of her shoulders, looking her up and down. ‘Give me those earrings,’ she said. ‘Too distinctive.’
Lee handed them over.
After examining them for a moment, Surly broke one in two and handed one of the pieces to her. ‘Take this. You may have to send a message. Include your half to prove authenticity, yes?’
Lee squeezed the fragment in her hand. Surly looked to Urko, who peered out into the back alley then nodded the all clear. Surly handed Lee a small bag of coin and gestured her out. ‘May Chem watch over you.’
Lee bowed to her and went to the door, but just outside she stopped and whispered low to the great hulking fellow, ‘Who is she?’
‘Someone worth following, lass – now go.’ He pushed her on with one wide paw.
She went, and not running either, as that would attract attention. She walked down to the docks, where she’d get a room for the night before taking a day-trader across to the mainland tomorrow. Under a hanging street-lamp, she opened her hand to examine the fragment: it was half the hummingbird earring. Just the clasp that would pinch the ear: a silver three-toed bird’s claw.
Also by Ian C. Esslemont
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Born in Winnipeg, Ian Cameron Esslemont has studied and worked as an archaeologist, travelled extensively in South East Asia and lived in Thailand and Japan for several years. He now lives in Fairbanks, Alaska, with his wife and children. He has a creative writing degree and his novels are all set in the fantasy world of Malaz that he co-created with Steven Erikson. Deadhouse Landing follows Dancer’s Lament and continues the story of the turbulent early history of one of the great imagined landscapes. To find out more, visit him online at www.malazanempire.com / www.ian-esslemont.com, or sign up for email updates here.
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