'We've lost at least two days,' Lorn pronounced, thankful for the day's lingering heat. 'These are thirsty horses.'

Tool stood near the shattered barrow marker, watching the Adjunct ready her horses for the journey into Darujhistan. 'How fares your wound, Adjunct?' he asked.

'Mostly healed,' she replied. 'Otataral has that effect on me.'

'My task is finished,' the Imass said. 'If it becomes your desire to accompany me after you have completed your mission, I will be found here for the next ten days. I wish to observe this Jaghut Tyrant – though it will not see me, nor will I interfere. My thoughts of success are with you, Adjunct.'

Lorn climbed on to her horse and stared down at the Imass. 'Fare well in your search, Onos T'oolan.'

'That name is past. I am now Tool.'

She grinned, then gathered the reins and kicked her mount forward, the packhorse trailing on its lead. Once the Finnest was out of her hands, she would focus her talents on discovering this Coin Bearer. Until now she had not allowed herself to think about Oponn. She had had too many other, more immediate concerns, like Sorry.

A strong sense of regret filled her at the loss of Captain Paran. That man would have made her task much easier, possibly even enjoyable. Though he'd been a dour man, getting grimmer by the minute, she had to admit that she had been attracted to him. There might have been something there.

'Well,' she sighed, as she urged her horse up a hillside, 'dying's never in anybody's plans.'

Tool's estimation gave her two days at the most. Then the Jaghut would be fully awake, and free of the barrow. The Finnest would have to be securely in place long before then. She looked forward to her meeting with Sorry, and instinctively brushed a hand against her sword's pommel. To kill a servant of Shadow, perhaps the Rope himself. The Empress's pleasure at that would be immense.

She realized that the doubts that had plagued her, borne on those dark wings of knowledge, now lay quiescent. An effect of her time in the barrow? More likely this acorn in her pocket. Or perhaps she'd moved unconsciously beyond them. When the time for action comes, all doubts must be discarded. An old Claw tenet. She knew herself well, and she knew how to control all that was within her. Years of training, discipline, loyalty and duty. The virtues of a soldier.

She was ready for the mission, and with this realization the weight on her shoulders vanished. She urged her mount into a gallop.

Crokus craned his head and squinted into the darkness above. 'Right to the top,' he said. 'We can see the whole city from there.'