Sentinelspire

Chapter Forty

The half-orc had not only killed one of Chereth's dark creatures-he had scaled the tower carrying the dead weight, then thrown it on the druid. Sauk stood near the edge of the roof, covered in gore-much of it his own blood. His skin was a collage of cuts, scrapes, and scratches. He bled from a deep gouge on his left shoulder.

Sauk fixed his gaze on Berun, who still knelt on the ground. "On your feet, you bastard. Your skulking little lizard killed Taaki." He hooked three fingers like claws and raked them across his face and heart. "Now I'm going to eat your heart. Dam ul dam. Blood for blood."

Completely unhurried and seemingly unconcerned, Berun pushed himself to his feet. He still had the knife in his hand, but it hung in a relaxed grip at his side. "Talieth…?"

"Doesn't matter," said Sauk, and he approached Berun. "All that matters now is you and me."

"You dare!" Chereth crawled out from under the dead weight of his servant and regained his feet. Blood from the dead creature smeared his robes, and he trembled with rage. The lights drifting over the roof flared brightly and took on a red tint. "Ebeneth!"

The foliage around Sauk erupted, vines snaking forward and branches grasping for him. But the half-orc was prepared. He leaped away, and when the plants came too close, he slashed at them with his blade, cleaving vines and sending leaves flying. Dodging the first assault, he tried to charge the druid, but more plants rose up to block his way and try to trap him. Sauk slashed and jumped. A few meager creepers managed to grasp one leg and arm, but he ripped away.

Chereth raised his staff and pointed, as if directing the attack. More and more leaves and branches surged after the half-orc, driving him away. Sauk cut and punched and kicked his way out of them, but he was being steadily forced toward the ledge.

Berun raised his knife and charged the old druid.

But Chereth saw him coming. He took one hand from his staff, held it palm upward before his face, and said, "Naur telleth!"

A burst of flame erupted in Chereth's palm, painting his manic features in a devilish light. He curled his hand into a fist, thrust it outward, and the flame shot straight for Berun.

Berun put his forearm in front of his face and tried to dodge, but the flame followed him and struck his midsection. Berun screamed and fell.

"Master!" Lewan called out.

His blistered torso smoking, his face twisted in pain, Berun pushed himself onto his feet and looked to Lewan.

Lewan took one step forward and tossed the hammer. It tumbled end over end in a long arc. The druid cried out and threw another gout of flame at the hammer. With his free hand, Berun reached out. The haft of the hammer slapped into his palm, he gripped it, twirled, and swung. The heavy stone hammerhead struck the ball of flame in midair, scattering it into a cloud of bright sparks.

Roaring like a wild animal, Sauk was still trying to find a way past the vines, but no matter how much he dodged or slashed, more always rose to take his place, pursuing him.

A weapon in each hand, Berun resumed his advance, more cautiously this time. A large patch of skin on his stomach and chest was blistered and torn, and he was obviously in pain.

Lewan turned and crouched next to Ulaan. She was trembling, her eyes wide. Lewan tried to peel back some of the vines and leaves. Some that had been burned crisp broke away, but most of the foliage still twisted tightly around her. He could see that her clothes had taken most of the flames. Only the skin of her hands and one cheek showed any injury from the fire. Her shivering was more from fear and shock than severe physical harm.

"Ulaan, can you hear me?"

Her eyelids fluttered and she looked at him. She didn't speak, but her gaze seemed to acknowledge his presence. Lewan pulled and tore at the vines. Whether they had been weakened by the flames or because the druid's magic was focused elsewhere, Lewan made progress, if too slow for his liking. Some of the vines had thorns that gouged and ripped his skin, but he ground his teeth through the pain and kept at it.

Lewan pulled and twisted at her bindings, snapping a thick tendril and freeing her left arm. "I don't suppose you could call for help?"

"Th-they're dying, Lewan," said Ulaan. Lewan could see that she had the jewel of the necklace clutched in her hand. "M-my… sister." A sob shook her and she squeezed her eyes shut. "They're all dying."

Lewan looked over his shoulder. Sauk was only a pace or two from the ledge, the vines and foliage still pushing and whipping at him. More vines had risen to try to seize Berun, and Chereth continued to lob balls of flame at them both. Sauk managed to duck or dodge most, though he had a large burn on his forearm. Berun was avoiding the fire or swiping it away with the hammer.

Lewan knew there was little he could do to help his master. But he might be able to help Ulaan.

"If I can get this off of you," he pulled off another long vine, "do you think you can walk?"

"Get me out of here, and I'll run," she said.

Lewan smiled and tore at the greenery. Some of the smaller creepers had burrowed into Ulaan's cloak, and bits of fabric ripped away as he pulled the foliage.

"Lewan?"

"What?" He kept at his work, not looking her in the face. "I meant what I said. That I care for you." "We'll talk of that later." Behind him, Sauk roared. "If there is a later."

A great many of Talieth's blades lay dead or dying. Only the most skilled of her assassins had lasted past the first assault, for their steel did little to deter the druid's creatures. The monsters hurled themselves on the assassins' steel, and if they felt any pain, it only seemed to fuel their fury. The assassins who could cast spells lasted longer, and Talieth was foremost among them, hurling fire and bolts of arcane energy at the creatures. Flame seemed the only thing that gave the creatures pause-and even that did not last long against their cunning, for they came in great numbers, some throwing themselves at their prey, distracting them, while others lunged in from behind.

Talieth lost sight of Valmir, concentrating all her attention on killing anything that came too close. It didn't take her long to realize that the creatures were slaughtering the assassins only as a means to an end. They were coming for her.

The assassins nearest her seemed to realize it as well, and they fled, leaving Talieth standing alone in the heavy mists, surrounded by a ring of the druid's minions. They moved in slowly, their eyes reflecting the light of the fire Talieth held in her upraised hand. It sizzled and hissed as the rain struck it.

One of the things stepped forward, crouching and keeping a wary eye on Talieth's fire. It reached out a hand toward her, then its entire body stiffened, its head shook, and its eyes rolled back. "Talieth," it said, though she knew that it was not the creature's voice, but something speaking through it. "Bring it to me. You fought a good fight. You lost. Give me Erael'len, and even now I will forgive you. Come to Kheil. Join me in our new world."

A shudder passed through the creature, and all stiffness left its body. It was fluid grace again. It watched her, waiting for her answer.

Talieth took a deep breath and squeezed her hand shut, extinguishing the fire. "Take me to him," she said.

+++++

Berun struck a gout of flame with the hammer and dodged another. From the edge of his vision, he saw Chereth muttering, and he knew the druid was toying with them. His power was beyond anything that he or Sauk could hope to withstand. Berun's heart dropped as he watched his old friend. His master, the one person in the world that Berun had held as an ideal, had gone mad. Whether it had truly been the seductive evil of Sentinelspire, the druid's own blind ambitions, or a combination of both… at this point, did it matter? All that mattered was stopping him.

Despite Berun's delusions to the contrary, Chereth had indeed become the Old Man. No matter what Chereth told himself, his motives were little different than Alaodin's. Alaodin had sought power and dealt in murder, but he'd rationalized it, believing it necessary to protect himself and those he loved. Was Chereth any different? And had he always been that way?

Swinging the hammer, Berun deflected more fire. It shattered into sparks and singed his bare arm. Berun backed away for a moment's respite and risked a glance behind him. "Lewan!" he shouted. The boy had succeeded in getting most of the vines off the girl. "Get out of here! Run!"

Lewan did not look up from his efforts. "Trying!"

"Enough of this!" Chereth called out, and he thrust his staff toward Sauk.

The writhing vegetation surged like a wave over rocks and hit the half-orc. Sauk struck at the greenery with his arm, but it did no good. The thick mass of vines, leaves, and writhing wood slammed into him, his legs struck the stone ledge, and he toppled over. His feet went up over his head and then he was gone, tumbling over the tower's edge.

Chereth swept his arm around, and a mass of leaves and branches rose and enveloped Berun. He lashed out at them with the hammer and knife. The blade sliced through a few branches before the vines wrapped round both his arms and pulled them to his chest. More snaked around his legs and torso. He screamed as the sharp leaves and prickly vines tore into the blistered skin along his stomach and chest. The mass of vegetation constricted, pulling his limbs tightly against his body so Berun could move only his head. He felt himself lifted up and borne toward the druid. He looked down upon the half-elf, who was not even breathing heavily.

"You see the power I now wield?" said Chereth. "You see the folly of opposing me? Forsake this foolishness, my son."

Chereth turned away, leaning upon his staff as he walked across the roof. The vines holding Berun bore him along after the half-elf. Chereth stopped before two statues-one of a winged lion, the other of a great stag whose antlers spread wide, reaching toward the lion's wings and forming a sort of arch. The druid reached inside his robes and withdrew a rod carved from white wood, or perhaps bone. He spoke a string of words in a language Berun did not recognize, and the air under the arch shimmered and blurred like a summer haze on the horizon.

"See?" said Chereth. "This portal leads to a realm of endless wild, where bricks and mortar are unknown, and the highest creatures live in harmony with the lowest. There, I will dwell while this world cleanses itself of Sentinelspire's fire and ash." He faced Berun again. "Do you still wish to oppose me? To die here amongst those who would trample upon all we hold dear?"

Berun looked down on his master. He would not give in to despair. He'd been dead before. To die now… at least he would have the hope of being found worthy to join the Oak Father. Such a fate might be welcome after the horror of the past days. But Berun knew that if he died here, he had to take Chereth with him. Otherwise, untold numbers of people- entire nations-would die as well.

"Ah," said Chereth, looking past Berun's shoulder. "Look who is back."

Berun craned his neck around to see Sauk climbing over the ledge of the tower. He no longer held his blade.

"I thought you might be too stubborn to fall," said Chereth. "Hail and well met, Sauk,"

"I…" Sauk dropped to the ground and sat, his chest heaving. "I have no quarrel with you, Old Man. I'm here for… for him." Sauk pointed at Berun.

"Taaki truly meant that much to you?" said Chereth.

"Why ask what you already know?"

"Your devotion is commendable, Sauk," said Chereth. "It is one of the many things I admired about you. Had you taken a different path in your early years, you might have been a disciple to make me proud."

Sauk snorted. "Damned leaf lover."

Chereth smiled, though a dangerous glint filled his eye. "This leaf lover just beat you like a cur."

"I seem to remember your leaves beating me," said Sauk. "You haven't faced me yet, Old Man."

"Old I am, yes. But it seems I'll outlive you. Look."

Chereth pointed to the east. The clouds of last night's storm still hung heavy in the sky, but they did not reach quite to the horizon, where the bright glow of dawn was already peeking over the edge of the world.

"The time approaches," said Chereth. "The stars, the Tears of Selune, the Dawn Heralds, the Five Wanderers… all are in perfect alignment, pulling the molten blood of Faerun into the beating heart of Sentinelspire. Soon, the new world begins."

Chereth walked to the very center of the roof. The vines holding Berun pulled him behind. The druid looked at Lewan, who had almost finished removing the last vines from around Ulaan's legs.

"You could have been a prince in paradise, boy, with your choice of women," said Chereth. "You chose poorly." He looked at Berun. "A third time now, I offer my forgiveness, for the affection I still bear for you and the loyalty you once gave me. I will not offer again. Join me in a new paradise. Teach our ways to a new world. Or die here. Now."

Berun tried to move his arms. He could feel his weapons in his hands, but the vines held him tight. He sighed and said, "What you offer isn't paradise. It's just a greener hell. You can rot there on your own."

Chereth's jaw stiffened and his lip twisted into a sneer. "So be it."

He turned to face the entrance to the stairs and said, "Come!"

Two killoren emerged, moving with their unsettling, almost-human grace. Behind them walked Talieth, her clothes torn, her hair a tangled mess, skin scratched and bloody. Still, she walked like a queen. She took in the scene around her, glancing at Sauk, Lewan, and Ulaan. Her eyes widened when she saw Berun.

"Kheil, I-"

"I'm sorry, Talieth," said Chereth. "It seems that your former love will not be joining us after all. He would rather die here than live with you in paradise."

Talieth stopped, glanced again at Berun, then fixed her gaze on the druid. "I will not leave without him."

Chereth returned her gaze for a moment, then sighed and said, "You have ruled here too long, it seems. You misunderstand me. You no longer command anyone or anything. I am not bargaining with you. I am offering you the chance to live, and serve me in a new world. Or you can die here." He shrugged. "Understand-I don't need you. I only need what you carry. And I can have it."

Chereth raised his staff and pointed it at Talieth. The killoren leaped away as vines rustled forward, wrapping around her and pinning her arms. She struggled, frantically at first but then giving up entirely. One of the killoren grabbed a leather cord from round her neck and pulled, yanking Erael'len from Talieth's bodice. Before the killoren could get a look at Erael'len, a long tendril of ivy darted out, grabbed the relic, and whipped it into Chereth's waiting hand. Raising his staff, the druid began a long chant.

Berun heard rustling in the leaves that carpeted the roof, and looked over to see Sauk charging Chereth. The half-orc was still several paces away when Chereth glanced at him, almost casually, and flicked his staff. Vines snapped forward, seized Sauk's legs, and the half-orc hit the ground, where more vines entangled him. The druid resumed his chant.

Berun felt it before he heard it-a low rumble, like distant thunder, only it did not dissipate. It grew, all the leaves on the roof rattled, and then Berun could feel the stone of the tower shaking beneath him.

"Lewan!" Ulaan screamed and kicked the last vines off her legs. Her limbs tingled as the blood began to flow again. A few burned twigs and leaves still clung to her clothes. "Lewan, we have to run!"

"It won't matter now." He looked at her, resignation in his eyes, then grabbed her in a fierce embrace. It hurt her burned skin, but she didn't care.

The trembling increased, and Berun could hear the stones rattling. Chereth kept up his chant, his voice rising over the rumbling of the mountain.

Furtive shapes came up the stairs, ignoring Lewan and the girl, walking right past them. The killoren-all that had survived the battle below. They moved quickly, and Berun saw something in their eyes for the first time-fear. The killoren knew what was coming. More climbed over the tower's ledge. Some ran and some shambled, almost beastlike, but all headed for the air shimmering between the statues and walked through, back to their world. Those who had been guarding Talieth joined their brothers, passed into the hazy air, and disappeared.

"Chereth!" Berun called out. "Master! Stop this! Stop it before it's too late!"

Chereth turned to face him, an exultant smile on his face, but he did not cease his chant. He was still smiling when a dusky brown shape hit him in the face, all biting teeth and scrabbling claws. The druid's voice broke and rose into a shriek. He dropped both staff and relic and slapped at the treeclaw lizard ravaging his face. As soon as the staff left his grip, Berun felt the vines around him lose their strength, and he dropped to the floor. He could feel the tower shaking, but the rumble in the air was quieting, and the tremors losing their strength.

Berun thrashed and kicked. Broken twigs and thorns jabbed his skin, cutting bloody swaths in his back and arms, but he didn't care. He kept fighting.

Chereth's cries stopped, and Berun dared to look up as he continued his efforts to free himself. The half-elf's face was a ruin-bright red blood surrounding darker patches of shredded skin and flesh. Both eyes were intact, and they burned with fury.

"Damn you!" Chereth shrieked.

Berun heard a screech and saw Perch nor far away, standing on his hind legs amidst the leaves. His forepaws hooked into savage claws, Perch looked up at the druid with his jaws open in a fierce show of aggression.

Chererh bent and retrieved his staff. He raised it, but even as he took in a breath to summon his spell, Sauk plowed into him from behind. They hit the roof hard, and Perch had to scramble away to keep from being crushed beneath them.

It gave Berun the distraction he needed. He lunged forward, tearing loose from the last of the vines, half rolling and half stumbling, then he dropped the hammer and reached out. His hand grabbed Erael'len.

"No!" screamed Chereth.

Berun looked up. Chereth stood again, staff raised, his face a mask of blood. Behind him, a tangle of vines had wrestled Sauk to the ground. The half-orc thrashed and cursed and screamed, but he could not break free.

Even as Berun watched, Chereth flicked his staff at Perch, and a smaller tangle of vines shot out and engulfed the lizard.

Chereth turned his bloody visage upon Berun. "Give that to me!

Berun stood. Even as the last tremor passed through the tower and the stone stilled, Berun could feel Erael'len coming to life in his fingers, its warmth spreading through his hand and arm.

"No," said Berun. "This madness ends now."

Chereth's chest heaved from exertion and pain. Blood dripped from deep cuts on his forehead and cheeks. His eyes seemed very bright, even savage. His lip curled into a snarl and he turned, pointing his staff at Lewan, who was huddled with the girl not far from the stairs. Vines shot out with so much force that some cracked through the air like whips.

They struck the boy, tearing skin off his face and hands, then wrapping around him. Lewan screamed but the vines kept coming, wrapping him tight and lifting him off the ground. One wound round and round his neck, then constricted, cutting off Lewan's screams.

The druid turned to Berun. "Give me Erael'len," he said. "Give it to me now, or the boy dies."

Berun stood, wincing at the pain from the burns across his skin. Erael'len's power was pulsing through him now, like blood, only a thousand times more alive, more vital, more powerful. "If I give you Erael'len, the boy dies anyway."

The vine around Lewan's neck tightened even more. His face was turning purple. Ulaan began screaming and pulling at the vines, but her efforts were futile.

Chererh risked a glance at the boy, a flicker of indecision passed across his face, then the vines round Lewan's throat slackened. Just enough for the boy to draw in breath.

"It need not be like this, my son," said Chereth. His words were soft, cajoling, but Berun could see the cunning in his eyes. "I threaten, you relent. You threaten, I relent. Such are the ways of lesser men. They are beneath us. Give me Erael'len, Berun. Its glory is beyond you. Give it to me, and I will leave you to whatever you wish. You may follow me-or not. Give me the relic and let me go my way."

"Your way is death for us all," said Berun.

Chererh's eyes hardened, and the vines tightened round Lewan's throat again. Ulaan yanked at them and began to sob.

"Your way is death for the boy," said Chereth. "A slow, agonized death while you watch. While he knows in his final agony that it is all your fault. His last choked breath, his last sight of the world as it fades to black… your fault. I'll have my way, anyway. Or you can give me the relic and go as you will with the boy. Your choice."

Berun swallowed. The top of the tower was strangely quiet. Even the drizzle had stopped, and there was no wind. So quiet that Berun could hear the vines tightening round Lewan's throat. Through his heightened senses from Erael'len, he could even hear the thorns tearing through the skin of Ulaan's fingers as she tugged at the vines. "Talieth!" Berun called.

She was still trapped in vines. She looked up at him, and even from so far away Berun caught her scent. The sight of her and the scent of her skin brought a flood of memories to Berun. Kheil's memories, true, but they hit him still-he and Talieth in the height of their passion had often come here at night, where they could enjoy the clean air, the sight of the open sky, and the quiet. It had been dark during their first visits, which did not hinder their purpose. But later, Talieth had learned to use the portals crafted by the Imaskari, calling up water and cool air through the tubes to the top of the Tower, to cool the lovers as they enjoyed each other's company. Even in winter, when dark came early, the moon rose pale and clear over the steps to bathe them in her cold light, and frost gripped the tower from top to bottom, Talieth had called forth fire from other worlds, the flame roaring up the sides of the Tower to bathe them in light and warmth.

Berun could see that she was hurt, disoriented. He knew that she had seldom faced such a desperate situation. But that was good. Berun knew that Talieth was never more dangerous than when she was desperate.

"Remember the winters, Tali!" Berun called out. "Remember our nights by the fires."

"Enough of his!" said Chereth. He spared a glance at Talieth. Apparently deeming her no further threat, he returned his attention to Berun. He clenched his fist and the vines round Lewan's neck tightened further. His face was a deep red, darkening to purple. Ulaan screamed.

Berun took a deep breath and concentrated on the power flowing through him. It was not a part of him. Not exactly. More like a conduit, it joined his lifeforce and his will to all living things around him-including the vines and plants that Chereth was bending to his will. Berun felt their life, their vitality, their anger But that was Chereth. Berun knew that plants were far more complex than most people believed, but anger… no. That was the half-elf. Berun felt that fury, understood its contours within the web of living things around them, then formed his own-a sharp, direct point of will-and struck.

The vines holding Lewan went limp, and the boy struck the ground and gasped for air. The mass of branches and creepers round Talieth slackened, and she fell forward, free at last. Berun felt the will giving strength to the plants that had buried Perch. He struck that power, shattering it, and the lizard scrambled out of the leaves. In the deep part of his mind, Berun sensed Perch's confusion and terror. Fighting steppe tigers was one thing, but plants that crawled like snakes… too much. Still, he could not bring himself to abandon his brother. Perch sat in the leaves, frozen by his own fear and indecision.

For a moment, Berun considered freeing Sauk as well… but no. In his present state of mind, the half-orc would be just as likely to attack Berun as Chereth.

Chereth looked at Berun in wide-eyed shock. Even Sauk, still pinned to the ground by the vines, only able to move his head, stared at Berun, disbelief and wonder warring with the rage in his eyes.

"I fear I wasn't entirely truthful with Sauk some days ago," said Berun. "I am no master, certainly, but I have had nine years to study and commune with Erael'len. I have unlocked more than a few of its secrets."

Chereth stiffened again, the haughty arrogance returning to his posture, and he said, "Pray it will be enough."

Time slowed for Berun. All around him, he felt the very substance of the air, and within those millions of tiny eddies and flows, he felt a charge swelling, crackling, and building as it gathered. Cheteth pointed his staff at Berun and spoke a word of power. The charge in the air coalesced and lightning shot out from a half-dozen directions, every bolt arcing right for Berun. But through Erael'len, Berun's will was tied to the power, and he turned the bolts away. Some struck patches of vegetation, shattering them in an explosion of scorched vines and leaves. One narrowly missed Lewan and Ulaan, striking the top step and cracking the stone.

Chereth stepped closer, his staff held at the ready. "Impressive," he said. "Your faith, your power, would be worshiped in my new world, Berun. Berun-'Hope,' I named you. Do not betray that hope now. You have so much to offer a fresh world, a world of life, a world ready to grow according to our will."

"Your will, you mean," said Berun. "You're no different than any tyrant or upstart warlord. Your way or no way. That is not the way of the Oak Father. That is not the Balance."

Chereth snorted. "Stupid fool," he said. "You know so little. Your half-orc is subdued, your boy and his whore are whimpering on the ground, and your woman"-he turned to look at Talieth, who had stumbled over to the statue of the Imaskari hero holding the sun — "mad, apparently. You stand alone, Berun, and you have made me very, very angry. Give me what is mine now, and I will grant you the mercy of dying beside your friends. Otherwise, I'll kill you here, take what is mine, and I'll take little Lewan with me as a pet for the killoren. They have developed quite a taste for manflesh here at the Fortress."

"Lewan!" Berun called out, but he did not turn to face the boy.

"Yes, master?"

"You remember two summers ago, hunting the bear?" A short silence, then, "Yes, master."

"Take my bow and go, Lewan! Run! Get out of here, now!"

A longer silence this time, then, "Yes, master."

Berun saw Chereth glance toward the stairs. He did the same. Just in time to see Lewan-Berun's bow in hand-leading Ulaan down the stairs.

"You think I will not find him?" said Chereth.

"Threats," said Berun, "cruelty… those are not the ways of the Oak Father."

"The wild can be cruel," said Chererh. He stopped only a few paces from Berun. "Must be cruel to survive."

Something grabbed at Berun's legs and he went down. He was halfway to his feet when the vines that had tripped him began to wrap themselves around him. Rather than struggle and fight them, he calmed his mind, concentrating on the power flowing through him by his connection to Erael'len. He sensed the power controlling the vines. Bending them to his own will would have meant a war of minds with Chereth-a war Berun wasn't sure he could win-so he snapped the connection. All mobility left the vines, and they were ordinary vegetation once more.

Berun rose to his feet. Chereth stood only a few paces away. Berun eyed him, needing him to move to his left a bit. Talieth stood ready beside the statue, her hand poised to begin her spell. The golden sun in the hands of the statue connected to the Imaskari rube, a window-sized portal that wound its way down and around the exterior of the tower before plunging deep into the heart of the mountain.

Keeping his eyes fixed on Chereth, Berun called out, "Ready, Talieth?"

Silence. For a moment, Berun feared she was dumbstruck-or worse, misunderstood his reference to the winter nights and the fires. But then he heard her, her voice haggard and rough, beginning the incantation.

Erael'len in one hand, knife in the other, Berun charged. He kept the relic behind him-well away from Chereth-and brought the knife around in a swipe aimed at the druid's throat. Chereth took a half-step back and blocked Berun's first strike with his staff, the second with his forearm, then countered by jabbing the end of his staff at Berun's face. Berun dodged and the blow merely scraped the side of his check.

Berun stabbed, forcing Chereth to leap back to avoid the blade. Berun backed away to catch his breath-and to keep Chereth right where he stood.

"You could have been a king in a new world," said Chereth. "Now, only I will remember you, and I will not mourn you, Berun. I was wrong to name you Hope. In all my years, you have proved my greatest disappointment." He shook his head, raised his staff, and said, "Ebenethl"

Most of the vines in which Berun stood did not move, but one strand shot forward, quick as a cobra, and snatched Erael'len from his grasp. He let it go, his senses returning to normal, and the vine slapped it into the open, bloodied palm of Chereth.

The druid's eyes lit with exultation, and the madness in that gaze was clear to Berun. How could he not have seen it before?

"You have defied me for the last time," said Chereth. "You will-"

Berun shouted, "Now, Tali!"

Fire-a great river of it, like a dragon's fury-erupted from the stone sun where Talieth stood. It shot outward, straight for the old druid. Perch screamed and ran to the edge of tower.

Chereth simply smiled and raised Erael'len. The fire washed over him, so hot that it singed Berun's skin from several paces away, but Chereth did not move, and his smile did not falter. He simply stood there, letting the flames wash over him.

The fire sputtered and died, a few flames dancing around the sun-disc before flickering away. The stench of burned vines and leaves filled the air, and near the edge of the tower, Talieth slumped to the feet of the statue. "I'm… sorry," she gasped. "I… could not hold it… any longer."

Chereth shook his head as he walked over to Berun. "You think I didn't hear your little signal?" he said. " 'Remember the winters! Remember our nights by the fire!' How touching. But I have had years to study and master what the Imaskari left behind. Nothing in my tower can harm me."

Holding Erael'len in one hand and raising his staff in the other, Chereth summoned two great masses of vines forward. One wound round Talieth and bound her to the statue. The other grabbed Berun, sharp thorns shredding his clothes, and threw him against the bole of the oak tree in the center of the roof. Berun's breath exploded out of him, and he felt and heard his ribs break. The vines kept coming and coming, wrapping round him and the tree, binding him there with arms outstretched.

Simply breathing was agony. The vines constricted, grinding Berun's broken ribs together, and darkness threatened to overwhelm his vision. But then the foliage slackened slightly, and the pain eased. Still, Berun could hear a cracking sound. It took him a moment to realize that it was not his bones or even the vines, but someone approaching. He looked up and saw Chereth walking over the carpet of leaves. Blood and gore still covered the druid's face from Perch's attack, and his hair and robes were a tattered, tangled mess from the fight.

"Damn you," said Chereth through clenched teeth, and Berun saw that he was trembling with fury, tears mingled with the blood on his cheeks. "Damn you to the darkest, deepest hell, you ungrateful, ignorant whelp. Your futile attempt, your… foolishness! " Words failed him. He squeezed his eyes shut, took a deep breath, then looked at Berun again. "The world has turned too far. It will be months before I can complete my plans. Months!"

Berun said nothing.

"But you haven't won," Chereth continued, "only delayed the inevitable. You have done something else, though." The half-elf’s eyes narrowed, and he looked upon Berun with hatred and contempt. "You know what I am going to do while I wait? I'm going to kill your woman over there. Then I'm going to hunt down that little pup of a disciple of yours-him and his whore. I'll kill him last, after he's watched me kill her. And I'll kill him slowly. And the whole time he will know it is you that brought this upon him, when he could have had paradise-or at the very least, a quick death in glory."

"No," Berun said, though it was agony to speak. "You… won't."

"Oh, but I will." Chereth smiled, a truly horrific sight through the mask of blood. He raised his staff, and the vines binding Berun's left arm tightened and stretched, so it seemed that Berun was holding the knife out to Chereth. "First I'm going to take care of you. Once and for all. You've been too full of surprises today. Best to end it now. What was it you told Talieth's little bed warmer out in the Shalhoond?"

Berun's eyes widened.

"Oh, yes," said Chereth. "I have watched you for many long days, and once Sauk found you, I watched closely. That night by the fire during your escape, what was it you said? 'The greatest weapon is the weapon at hand and the willingness to act.' The first thing the Old Man ever taught you, you said. After all you have done to me, I certainly have the willingness to act. And look"-he reached out and took the knife from Berun's hand — "a weapon, literally 'at hand.' Let's put it to good use."

Chereth brought the knife up and slammed it down, plunging it through the vines and deep into Berun's flesh, right where his neck joined his shoulder, right into the large vein. Chereth pulled out the blade and blood spurted all over them both. It seemed to fuel the druid's fury. He turned the knife and stabbed "I-!"

Again.

"— am-!"

Again.

"— through-!" Again, "-with-!" Again.

"— you!"

He stopped and let go, leaving the blade stuck between two of Berun's ribs. The second-or had it been the third? — strike had pierced one of Berun's lungs, and he could feel blood beginning to fill his chest. He coughed once, bringing out a spurt of blood. He could hear Talieth crying.

Berun smiled.

"What?" Chereth stood there, panting from exertion. "Why are you smiling?"

"The… second-" Berun coughed again, spraying more blood.

"The second?"

"— thing!" Berun had to pause between each word to gather enough air, and even then each one came out wet with blood. "The… Old Man… taught… me."

A small spark of curiosity overtook the fury in Chereth's eye. "And what was that?"

"Al-" Another cough, this one so hard that blood filled Berun's nose and leaked out. "Always… watch… your back!"

Chereth whirled.

Next to the stairway stood Lewan, Berun's bow in hand, arrow pulled back to his cheek-the steel point aimed directly at Chererh. Lewan's fingers, grasping the bowstring, opened, and as the curve of the bow straightened, snapping the string forward with a sharp whisper of air, the runes etched into the bow glowed a brilliant green.

The druid raised his staff and spoke a single incantation.

Berun did not know if his life was failing so fast that his brain had already begun its long sleep, or perhaps it was simply the blessing of the Oak Father upon the bow, but in that instant he thought he saw a flash in the air as Chereth's magic failed him. The arrow flew straight and true, burying itself in the half-elf's chest. It struck with such force that it spun him around, and when he fell upon his hands and knees, he was facing Berun. By the time he gripped his staff and pushed himself to his feet, he was shaking like an old man with palsy — and Lewan had another arrow drawn and nocked. But only for a moment.

Chereth opened his mouth in a last, desperate attempt to call forth his magic, and the arrow struck him there, passing between his teeth. The steel point bored through his skull before the wood of the arrow stuck.

The old druid fell back onto the vine-covered roof, his legs kicked twice, and he died staring at the sky.