“Leaving Pale to fall-” Baruk shut his mouth, cursing his lack of tact.

But Rake merely shrugged. “I didn't anticipate that I'd face a full assault. My presence alone had been keeping the Empire at bay for almost two years.”

“I've heard the Empress is short of patience,” murmured Baruk thoughtfully. His eyes narrowed, then he looked up. “You have asked to meet with me, Anomander Rake, and so here we are. What is it you wish from me?”

“An alliance,” the Moon's lord answered.

“With me? Personally?”

“No games, Baruk.” Rake's voice was suddenly cold. “I'm not fooled by that Council of idiots bickering at Majesty Hall. I know that it's you and your fellow mages who rule Darujhistan.” He rose and glared down with eyes of grey. “I'll tell you this. For the Empress your city is the lone pearl on this continent of mud. She wants it and what she wants she usually gets.”

Baruk reached down and plucked at the frayed edge of his robe. “I see,” he said, in a low voice. “Pale had its wizards.”

Rake frowned. “Indeed.”

“Yet,” Baruk continued, “when the battle was begun in earnest, your first thought was not for the alliance you made with the city but for the well-being of your Moon.”

“Who told you this?” Rake demanded.

Baruk looked up and raised both hands. “Some of those wizards managed to escape.”

“They're in the city?” Rake's eyes had gone black.

Seeing them, Baruk felt sweat break out beneath his clothes. “Why?” he asked.

“I want their heads,” Rake replied casually. He refilled his goblet and took a sip.

An icy hand had slipped around Baruk's heart and was now tightening. His headache had increased tenfold in the last few seconds. “Why?”

he asked again, the word coming out almost as a gasp.

If the Tiste And? knew of the alchemist's sudden discomfort he made no sign of it. “Why?” He seemed to roll the word in his mouth like wine, a light smile touching his lips. “When the Moranth army came down from the mountains, and Tayschrenn rode at the head of his wizard cadre, and when word spread that an Empire Claw had infiltrated the city,” Rake's smile twisted into a snarl,” the wizards of Pale fled.” He paused, as if reliving memories. “I dispatched the Claw when they were but a dozen steps inside the walls.” He paused again, his face betraying a flash of regret. “Had the city's wizards remained, the assault would have been repelled. Tayschrenn, it seemed, was preoccupied with: other imperatives. He'd saturated his position-a hilltop-with defensive wards. Then he unleashed demons not against me but against some of his companions. That baffled me but, rather than allow such conjurings; to wander at will, I expended vital power destroying them.” He sighed and said, “I pulled the Moon back mere minutes from its destruction. I left it to drift south and went after those wizards.”

“After them?”

“I tracked down all but two.” Rake gazed at Baruk. “I want those two, preferably alive, but their heads will suffice.”

“You killed those you found? How?”

“With my sword, of course.”

Baruk recoiled as if struck. “Oh,” he whispered. “Oh.

“The alliance,” Rake said, before draining his goblet.

“I'll speak to the Cabal on this matter,” Baruk answered, rising shakily to his feet. “Word of the decision will be sent to you soon.” He stared at the sword strapped to the Tiste And?” s back. “Tell me, if you get those wizards alive, will you use that on them?”

Rake frowned. “Of course.”

Turning away, Baruk closed his eyes. “You'll have their heads, then.”

Behind him Rake laughed harshly. “There's too much mercy in your heart, Alchemist.”

The pale light beyond the window signified the dawn. Within the Phoenix Inn only one table remained occupied. Around it sat four men, one asleep in his chair with his head lying in a pool of stale beer. He snored loudly. The others were playing cards, two red-eyed with exhaustion while the last one studied his hand and talked. And talked.

“And then there was the time I saved Rallick Nom's life, at the back of All Eve's Street. Four, no, five nefarious hoodlums had backed the boy to a wall. He was barely standing, was Rallick, gushing blood from a hundred knife wounds. Clear to me was the grim fact that it couldn't last much longer, that tussle. I come up on them six assassins from behind, old Kruppe with fire dancing on his fingertips-a magical spell of frightful violence. I uttered the cantrip in a single breath and lo! Six piles of ash at Rallick's feet. Six piles of ash aglitter with the coin from their wallets-hah! A worthy reward!”