Mad Ship by Hobb Robin

released or threaten them.”
    Unwillingness washed over Kennit like a wave. He refused to consider the humiliation and indignity he must face. He thrust away the idea that this was inevitable. There had to be some other way, some alternative to vast pain and helplessness. How could he choose them, knowing that even if he endured it all, he might still die? How foolish he would look then!
    “ … and each of those must be drawn out a little way, and closed off with a stitch or two.” Wintrow paused as if waiting for his agreement. “I’ve never done this by myself,” he admitted abruptly. “I want you to know that. I have seen it done twice. Once an infected leg was removed. Once it was a hopelessly smashed foot and ankle. Both times, I was there to help the healer, to pass tools and hold the bucket … ” His voice trailed off. He licked his lips and stared at Kennit, his eyes going wider and wider.
    “What is it?” Kennit demanded.
    “I’ll have your life in my hands,” he wondered aloud.
    “And I have yours in mine,” the pirate pointed out. “And your father’s.”
    “That’s not what I mean,” Wintrow replied. His voice sounded like a dreamer’s. “You are doubtless accustomed to such power. I have never even wished for it.”

CHAPTER THREE
                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                            
THE CROWNED ROOSTER
    HER FOOTFALLS RANG HOLLOW IN THE CAVERNOUS CORRIDOR as Jani Khuprus hastened down it. As she strode along, she trailed her fingers down the long strip of jidzin set into the wall. Her touch triggered a faint light that moved with her down the dark hall that carried her ever deeper into the Elderlings’ labyrinthine palace. Twice she had to circle dark puddles of water on the stone floor. Each time, she routinely noted to herself the location. Whenever the spring rains returned, they had the same problem. The thick layer of soil on top and the questing roots that sought through it were beginning to win the long battle with the ancient buried structure. The quiet dripping of the water was a counter rhythm to her own hurrying feet.
    There had been a quake last night, not a large one by Rain Wild standards, but stronger and longer than the usual gentle shivering of the earth. She resolved not to think about it as she hurried through the dimness. This structure had withstood the great disaster that had leveled most of the ancient city; surely, she could trust it to stand a bit longer. She came at last to an arched entryway closed with a massive metal door. She ran her hands over it lightly and the Crowned Rooster embossed on the surface shimmered into life. It never failed to impress her. She could well understand her ancestor discovering this and immediately making the Crowned Rooster his own heraldic device. The cock on the door was lifting a spurred foot threateningly and his wings were half-raised in menace. Every hackle feather on his extended neck shone. A gem set in his eye sparkled blackly. Elegance and arrogance combined in him. She set a hand firmly to his breast and pushed the door open. Darkness gaped at her.
    Only familiarity guided her as she descended the shallow steps that led into the immense room. As she submerged herself in the vaster darkness of the Crowned Rooster Chamber, she scowled to herself. Reyn was not here