Quick Ben staggered upright. The clay flesh, he now saw, was melting, running in wet streams down the giant's thick arms. Chunks of diamond fell away. The Crippled God's killing them, poisoning Burn's flesh. The wizard's thoughts raced. "Servant, child of Burn! How much time? Until it is too late?"
"Not long," the creature replied. "It nears. The moment nears."
Panic gripped Quick Ben. "How close? Can you be more specific? I need to know what I can work with, friend. Please try!"
"Very soon. Tens. Tens of years, no more. The moment nears. Help us."
The wizard sighed. For such powers, it seemed, centuries were as but days. Even so, the enormity of the servant's plea threatened to overwhelm him. As did the threat. What would happen if Burn dies? Beru fend, I don't think I want to find out. All right, then, it's my war, now. He glanced down at the mud-strewn ground around him, questing with his senses. He quickly found the tracker. "Servant! I will leave something here, so that I may find you again. I will find help - I promise - and I will come back to you-"
"Not me," the giant said. "I die. Another will come. Perhaps." The creature's arms had thinned, were now almost devoid of their diamond armour. "I die now." It began to sag. The red stain in the ceiling had spread to the ribs it held, and cracks had begun to show.
"I will find an answer," Quick Ben whispered. "I swear it."
Memories of Ice, by Steven Erikson (Malazan Book of the Fallen #3)
