Sentinelspire

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Valmir led a half dozen assassins-four men and two women-through the storm-slick streets. He knew he was very likely heading toward his own death, but it was not the thought of death or even life that was running through his head.

The thought that kept coming to mind was that the gods of magic, despite being feared and revered throughout Faerun, must have one sick sense of humor. He'd at least halfway understood Talieth's lessons on the necessity for components to spells-how their inherent qualities, both natural and arcane, helped summon and strengthen certain magical forces. But the fact that one of the main ingredients of one of his most deadly spells was something that came out of the south end of a northbound bat often made him wonder if the gods were more than a little insane, or if they just liked to test the mettle of their servants. They were hundreds of miles from the nearest apothecary, so Valmir had to search the caves for his own bat excrement, and that only made it worse. Still… he knew the effort would be worth it.

The night is red! The night is red! The ni The call had come not long ago. He'd feared it since Talieth first laid out their plan this morning-feared it and prepared for it. Still, that it had come not from Talieth or Sauk but from one of Talieth's pets that was currently sharing the boy's bed… that bothered Val. It meant things had gone from bad to worse to "What in the unholy hells is that?" said the man walking behind Val.

Valmir had been so lost in his thoughts, his attention so focused on getting them to the Tower of the Sun, that he'd almost stepped on… whatever it was. At first he thought it was merely a pile of refuse that a servant had been taking out, dropped on the street, and left when chaos broke loose. But then he caught the stench-blood and offal.

One of the other men, the one holding the lantern, came round. His light fell on the bloody wreck. "I think that was Dayul."

Whoever it was, he hadn't simply been killed. He'd been torn apart. Limbs ripped off the torso, skin and flesh ripped from bones, intestines scattered. Not even the tiger would have done something like this.

"Dayul?" he said. "How can you tell?"

"I recognize the boots… uh, boot," said the lantern man. He pointed. Lying a few paces away from the thickest mass of gore was half a leg. It still wore a fine leather boot with brass buckles. "Dayul loved those boots."

"Not anymore," said Valmir. "Let's move. Be ready."

"Ready for what?" said one of the women.

"Wish I knew," said Val, and he reached inside a pouch for the small clump of bat excrement. He grimaced, but damned if it didn't feel comforting just then.

Nearly two dozen of the blades were already at the Tower of the Sun when Valmir arrived. The assassins stood on the path outside the main entrance of the courtyard. Several held lanterns, but most of the light came from the odd orbs floating round the tower and among the brush. A few of the assassins had ventured under the archway, and one of them-an old veteran named Merellan-called to Valmir.

He walked past the others. "Where's Talieth?" he asked.

Merellan swallowed and looked inside the courtyard. "Trapped. Up there in the trees."

"Trapped?" said Valmir, both confusion and anger in his voice.

"Wrapped up in vines."

"What are you waiting for?" The confusion gone, Valmir's voice was all anger. "Get her out!"

"We… we tried. The woods in there-they're alive, Valmir."

"Alive? Of course they're alive you damned fool. They're plants!"

"Not like this. See for yourself."

The man motioned to another to bring up his light. He opened the lantern's shutter. Valmir held the wad of bat droppings and brimstone mixed together, just the way Talieth had taught him, and he rolled it between his thumb and fingers as he advanced, the words of the spell playing round and round in his mind.

He heard something approaching through the foliage, and he stopped. Then he saw that it was the foliage itself moving-vines covered in leaves and thorns, and thick braidlike strands of creepers-snaking over the ground and swaying through the air toward him. He quickly backstepped out of their reach.

"That's what I meant," said Merellan. "Alive." "What do we do, Valmir?" said one of the assassins in the street.

"Valmir!" called a voice from inside the courtyard. A woman's voice.

"Talieth?" Valmir shouted. "That you?"

"He captured us," said Talieth. "Sauk and me both. We're caught up in the vines."

"How bad you hurt?"

"We'll live," said Talieth. "You need to get us out. We have to get up there and stop the druid before it's too late. Burn it. Burn the woods."

Val looked round at the other assassins. They wore the same shocked, fearful look that he knew was on his own face. "But that will burn you, too."

"The vines are coming from the thick foliage near the base of the tower. One cluster has me. The other has Sauk. Hit them-burn them all-and I think the vines will release us. But be ready to cut and drag us out quick."

Valmir took a deep breath. "What if it doesn't, Talieth? What if it burns and you stay right where you are?"

There was a moment of silence, broken only by the patter of the drizzle on the leaves and the rustling of a few branches in the wood, then Talieth said, "Burn the cluster holding Sauk first."

Valmir smiled. "That I can do."