an oak keeping the worst of the rain off him. Perch clung to his forearm beneath his cloak. The treeclaw lizard was shivering, partially from the wet and cold and partially from the excitement. When the last tunnel guard had made it past Berun and fled, Perch had gone after him. The lizard hadn't been able to stop the man, but barring a particularly talented healer or cleric, the man would be no threat to anyone for many days to come.
The alarm horns had stopped some time ago, but the streets were thick with patrols. Berun had already been forced to kill three more people since entering the walls. They'd been cloaked against the rain, and in the dark he hadn't been able to see any of their features, but the last one Berun had taken down… in the instant before the hammer cracked the skull, Berun could have sworn that the voice crying out was a woman's. He could still hear that final desperate shriek ringing out in his mind, then cut short. His arm still felt the shock that had rattled through the hammer and up to his shoulder.
Berun took a deep breath and squeezed his eyes shut. Part of him wanted to throw the hammer into the brush and sneak out of the Fortress again. Killing all those people with the hammer and the blade Lebeth had given him, it had felt… good. And that scared him. Scared him more than anything had ever scared him. Kheil had reveled in blood. Seeing the last light of life leave his victims' eyes had once brought a pleasure beyond any spiritual bliss or sexual delight. It had been the closest he had ever known to defining true ecstasy. But Kheil was dead. Dead and gone. Executed, justly executed, he told himself. Stabbed and sliced and bled out on the Tree of Dhaerow.
But life had brought him back. No, not life. That didn't quite describe it. The sheer power of Livingness, of all living things, had pulled him back, had put breath into his lungs and hot blood pumping through his veins. Berun-and Berun alone, not Kheil-knew one thing more than he had ever known anything: the absolute preciousness of life. He knew it, though he doubted he could put words to it. Love was the closest word he could find-the love for life had been imprinted on his consciousness. Death was cheap. Worse, it was easy. Life… there was no price for it. That his heart now beat fast and his breath came quick at the thought of killing, of taking the lives of others…
All your life you have dealt death. Now the god of life calls you. Time to answer. The words spoken so long ago. Master Chereth's low voice, just beginning to rasp with the onset of old age.
Then another voice, softer and warmer and more recent- Beware, son of the Oak Father. Even truth can deceive, when the seeker walks darkened paths.
Crouched in a crumbling building in the night, listening to the storm and the cries of the patrols looking for him, smelling the blood of dead men mixing with the sweat and rain on his skin and cloak, Berun felt as if he were on a very-dark path indeed. He felt… lost.
The temptation to flee was strong. The assassins knew he was inside the Fortress. They were hunting him inside the walls. It would be all too easy to make it back through the tunnels where they wouldn't be looking for him, to find his way down the mountain and disappear into the Endless Wastes.
But there was Lewan. Somewhere in this Fortress, Lewan was still a prisoner. If there was even a sliver of hope that the boy was alive, Berun knew he had to find him and help him.
Never had Berun felt so confused. So frightened. Finding Lewan and fleeing would change nothing. He had died to the life of an assassin. Had he been raised to life, tried so hard to make a new life, only to find himself being used to kill again? Whether it was the Old Man, paying him in pleasure and profit for his skills, or the Oak Father, cloaking his actions in terms like justice and vengeance and the Balance… it all amounted to the same thing: he was here to kill. The fact that he found himself enjoying it only frightened him all the more. In his heart of hearts, he had hoped for more, wanted to believe that there was more purpose to his life than killing.
Sauk would have laughed at that notion. Life was struggle, death the ultimate reward for everyone. To balk at killing only meant that you stood a good chance of getting your reward a lot sooner than most. To hunt and kill the strong only made you stronger.
It was true, Berun knew, but as his master had been so fond of telling him, it was only one leaf on a branch on a tree whose roots ran very deep. And so, Berun sat in the dark, listening and trying his best to see the rest of the tree-maybe even glimpse the forest-and so find the Balance.
Berun, you must help me. Chereth's words, sent to him in a vision. Come to me, my son.
And the words of Lebeth. To see the light, child of the Oak Father, to protect light for us all, you must bring vengeance to the Tower of the Sun.
'To see the light,' Berun said to himself. He needed that now more than he ever had. 'So be it.'
Berun took a deep breath, steeling himself, and prodded the link he shared with Perch. Ready, Perch?
The Tower of the Sun was not far from where he hid. One tree-lined garden, a low wall, and a building separated him from the great spire.
Ready eat-and-eat then sleep-sleep. Tired-tired-so-tired.
'Me, too,' Berun whispered.
Eat and sleep soon-soon?
Lightning flashed in the distance. Berun saw the light flickering off the ruined walls and leaves in their midst.
Soon, I hope. We must hunt a while still. Then sleep.
It occurred to Berun that the sleep he might be walking into was the eternal sleep, but he tried not to let that thought seep through to Perch.
Thunder rolled over the Fortress. He felt Perch's claws flex, piercing his shirt and pricking his skin. Hunt- hunt.
Yes, hunt-hunt. Perch, I need you to look. Search the shadows. Search the leaves and trees. Find the tiger.
Malicious glee surged through Berun's mind from Perch. He couldn't help but smile. The treeclaw lizard had developed a most intense dislike for Taaki. Spiders knew their match and did their best to get away, fighting only when cornered. Perch had never fought a creature as large as Taaki that would hunt and fight back with such ferocity. The lizard might have been afraid of the tiger at first, but twice he had faced her and won. The victories had filled his little heart with an eager boldness.
The link Berun shared with the lizard flooded his mind with emotions and images-Fight-fight tiger. Claw and bite and leap-leap and claw-claw-fun-fun-fun!
Only if you have to, Berun told Perch. With his bow and poisoned arrows long gone, his only hope was to avoid the tiger. His hammer would only anger her. The bone knife might bite deep, but for him to get close enough to use it, the tiger would have to be on top of him, and it would hardly matter how deep his blade bit if that happened.
Perch crawled out from under Berun's cloak and scampered away, all the while giving off a constant chatter of tiger-tiger-tiger-hunt-tiger-fight-fight-tiger-tiger-tiger.
'Yes,' Berun said to himself, 'time to hunt.'
Nine years ago, the Fortress of the Old Man had been well lit, even at night. Torches burned in sconces along pathways. Slaves tended braziers where the larger paths crossed, and in the gardens and along the main thoroughfares, oil lamps burned behind colored glass. But tonight, under the storm, the pathways were dark. Wind and rain had doused the torches and braziers, the slaves hid indoors, and the oil burned low in the lamps, casting only weak puddles of light. Shadows welled thick in the fortress, and Berun stayed in them as best he could.
He skirted the tree-lined garden and went round several smaller outbuildings so he could approach the Tower of the Sun from the east. The entrance to the tower's courtyard and the main doors were to the west, but Berun knew they would be well guarded. Better to have a look around first.
His first sight of the tower up close stunned him.
Nine years ago, carefully tended fruit trees, a few fountains, and stone benches had filled the courtyard. All were gone. A small forest ringed the base of the Tower, the trees, vines, and creepers topping the courtyard wall and spilling onto the path outside. The trees swayed in the wind and millions of leaves trembled beneath the onslaught of the rain. But within the boughs and drifting overhead round the lower stories of the tower were dozens of bluish-green lights, wispy round the edges, their light undimmed by the rain. Far too large to be fireflies they floated without sound and seemed completely impervious to wind and rain, moving of their own accord. Berun sensed nothing natural in those lights.
Look-look-look The message from Perch hit Berun so strong and sudden that his vision blurred and he swayed on his feet. He leaned against the building and closed his eyes.
You've found the tiger? Berun asked.
