Sentinelspire (50 page)

Gorin snorted. “Right after you hug me tight and call me mother. You go check on him yourself.”

Valmir scowled at Gorin, then looked up at the tower. “I’m sure he’s fine.”

Atop the Tower of the Sun, before the great oak tree, Sauk sat. The morning breeze off the mountain set the tree’s leaves to whispering and tosse d the half-orc’s unbound hair into his face.

After a long time, he looked up at the body on the tree. Sauk’s knife was gone. He made the sign of the Beastlord—three middle fingers curled like claws—on his forehead, dug his middle nail deep into his skin, and opened a fresh gash down his forehead and across his cheek.

“Dam ul dam, Malwun.”

He sat there, looking up at Berun, and tears mingled with the blood on his cheeks.

Mark Sehestedt grew up in the high plains of eastern New Mexico. He now resides in Maine with his family, where life is awesome.