Sentinelspire

Chapter Twenty-Six

16Tarsakh, the Year of Lightning Storms (1374 DR) The foothills of the Khopet-Dag

Berun hit the ground rolling, careful to keep his blade away from his body, and came to his feet. The tiger was already rounding on him, her lips pulled back over her teeth. Sauk and his men fanned out behind her. Berun crouched and kept the knife out before him, hoping the smell of blood on the steel would discourage the tiger. She gave it a swipe, testing him. He jerked the knife out of the way just in time and stepped back. On the edge of his vision, he could see Lewan trying to force himself to his feet but not having much success.

"Surround him!" Sauk called out. "Get behind him and close in. He's done running. He runs and Taaki'll be on him!"

The tiger backed up and crouched, baring her teeth and tightening her muscles. Berun knew she was about to pounce. He might be able to avoid the brunt of her, might even slice into her with the knife, but he knew it wouldn't be a killing blow. He'd either teach her a little caution, maybe buy himself a little time, or he'd get her so angry that she'd come at him, blade or no blade.

Berun prepared to make his own leap when that slight tickling in the base of his brain suddenly flared.

Perch hit Taaki, right on her head, coming down in a fury of claws and teeth. Taaki roared in shock and anger and began shaking her head back and forth to dislodge the treeclaw lizard. But Perch held, and Berun knew through the link they shared that Perch's claws had burrowed beneath the fur and well under the skin. One claw was scraping along bone. Still, the tiger was a thousand times stronger than the lizard, and she dislodged him. Keeping a tenuous hold with his front claws, Perch's lower body fell on her face.

Berun saw her flex her right paw-claws fully extended- and he knew what was coming.

"Perch, drekhe!" Berun shouted, and at the same time urged him flee!

Taaki struck, and the little lizard leaped away just in time-so close that Perch felt the fur of the tiger's paw tickle his back in passing. The tiger's claws ripped into her own eye and the flesh around it. She screamed-a roar that began deep but then went up into an almost human-sounding screech- then she bounded away, running Valmir down as she passed.

Sauk roared in fury and charged. Berun could see from the look on his face that any orders of taking Berun alive were forgotten. Time for bloody murder.

The half-orc brought his sword around in a backhanded blow, all of his strength and rage behind the swing. Berun threw himself back, hoping that the downhill slope would grant him some added momentum. It did, but too much. His foot slipped on the sodden ground and he went down hard, sliding a ways downhill into a thick brake of holly. He felt the ground shaking under Sauk's heavy tread.

He pushed himself to his feet. Forest detritus and muck covered him, but he knew he didn't have time to concern himself with any of it. Sauk was almost upon him. Another moment The ground in front of Berun erupted, scattering leaves and branches and shattering a rotted tree into countless pieces. The moist earth swelled until it stood almost as tall as the young trees themselves. Seeing it, Berun's eyes widened in shock, for the earth was shaped almost like a man-a thick, malformed man. Leaves and mud sprouted from the great lump between its shoulders, almost like a living crown. Broken branches and old roots protruded at odd angles, and even as its thick, loamy scent hit him, Berun could see earthworms wriggling on its surface, some falling away while others burrowed back inside.

The mound of earth rose, as if dirt from the torso were being forced upward, then split into a mouth. It kept growing, the bulk of the thing's body shrinking as it formed into the jaws. The mound of earth leaned forward, towering over Berun, then fell.

When the tiger had knocked him to the ground, Berun thought he'd felt every bone in his body scrape together. This was a hundred times stronger and completely unrelenting. The tiger had struck and bounded away. This kept coming and coming and coming. He felt millions of grains of wet dirt undulating over his skin and falling down his shirt, filling his nose, burying him. Roots and rocks scraped and bruised him.

It was cold. Worse, Berun could not breathe. Dirt filled his nose, and he knew that if he opened his mouth, he would choke on the wet earth. He pitched and kicked and punched, but it was like fighting the wind. The earth flowed around every strike. He felt his knife swept away in the flood of earth. For an instant, he thought he heard Sauk screaming, but then it was gone, and there was only the roar of the earth surging around him.

Berun's kicks and punches were no longer a matter of fighting. With no air, his body had completely separated from his mind and gone into the throes of sheer panic.

Lights danced in his vision. Were his eyes open or clenched shut? He could not remember, but neither could he feel them any longer. The lights coalesced, bleeding together, and deepened into a shade of verdant green, like dawn's light on the dew of spring grass.

The light rippled, a green glow playing over shadow, and the ripples formed an outline, then a face. Chereth.

It was Chereth, his master. Older. His face drawn. Even haggard. But there was no mistaking his master's visage.

"Berun," said Chereth, "you must help me. I release you from your oath. Come to me, my son. Come to me!"