"Ahhhhh, I LOVE the sweet smell of MONEY in the evening!" Emmerson squealed as he plunged his hand into the chest of gold... bringing up a double arm-load of shimmering treasure. "...or any OTHER time, for that matter!"

The band of thieves had returned to the cluster of underground tunnels that was their home. Above them was an abandoned building where, hopefully, guards were keeping watch from the windows in the empty rooms. All around them were the ancient chambers and pockets of stone that had served some unknown purpose in times past, but was now the subterranean lair of the Night's Bloom. After being teleported back to Montfort, Hars and the others had finally brought their loot home to be counted.

But it appeared that Emmerson would first have to be surgically removed from the gold before it could be divided.

"Money, money, money, money, money!"

"He's a greedy one, isn't he?" said Yexhill Thane. He and Hemmingway stood by the chest of gold and watched Emmerson make a fool of himself.

"A man's gotta have his motivation," Hemmingway replied.

"He's a bit TOO motivated," said Thane. "Looks like he's gonna dive in that chest and swim around in it in a minute! And he's small enough to do it, too!"

"I heard that!" Emmerson paused his gleeful worship of the gold long enough to shoot a nasty glare at Thane. He didn't wait for a reply... instead, he buried his fists in the coins and began stuffing his pockets. Emmerson had a lot of pockets, and all of them were seemingly bottomless.

"Put it back," Harrison Blackshear said as he walked past. He had other men with him. They were members of the Night's Bloom who hadn't gone on the raid. Among them was Rivus, their leader.

Rivus was a short but stocky man. He walked with a slight limp, and looked as if he would much rather be sleeping. But, despite the fatigue in his movements, his eyes darted quickly around the room several times in succession... the sign of a man who was more alert that he seemed, and more than a little paranoid.

"He said put it back," said Rivus. Rivus's voice lacked the booming base of Harrison's, but it spoke with authority nontheless. "We can't divvy it up yet."

"What?" said Emmerson, looking suspiscous. He glanced at Hemmingway, who ignored him.

"It's foreign coin; clearly recognizeable and traceable back to us. We have to melt it all down and turn it into ingots... then sell it-"

"Melt it DOWN!?" Emmerson squealed in disbelief. "MELT IT DOWN!?!" He threw himself onto the chest of gold and hugged it protectively. "ARE YOU MAD!?!"

"He's new to this isn't he?" Rivus asked Harrison.

"Does it show?" Hars smiled.

"Come on, little brother," Hemmingway grabbed Emmerson by the neck, lifted the man off the chest.

"But its mine!" Emmerson's feet kicked helplessly in the air. "MINE!"

"...ours..." Thane mumbled under his breath.

Hemmingway deposited his brother on the floor not far away. Emmerson grumbled under his breath and cast longing glances at the chest of gold.

"I like him," said Rivus as he and Hars walked on. The other experienced Bloomsmen gave them a wide girth, not wanting to accidentaly overhear something that would get them killed. Rivus leaned against the stone wall and smiled.

"Well?" he said, nodding at the new members. Thane, Hemmingway and Emmerson were having an animated conversation near the chest of gold. Gallows Jim was lurking in the shadows on the other side of the chamber. Strangely, he didn't seem at all odd or suspiscious doing so. It was as if he belonged there, and would seem out of place anywhere else. "How'd they do?"

"Room for improvement," Hars said gruffly.

"Yes, but how did they DO?"

"Ehhh," Hars grunted and shrugged. It was as close to a compliment as he got.

"I like the brothers," said Rivus. "That Emmerson fellow... he's got flair."

"You like 'im 'cause he's smaller than you!" Hars said with a chuckle. Rivus was, indeed, a very short man. But with Emmerson in the room, Rivus seemed a few inches taller.

"Yes, there is that!" Rivus smiled. The humor behind the smile was was brief, but the smile itself lasted for a few seconds longer. "So, what's your opinion of the new recruits now that you've field-tested them?"

Hars looked out at the men, his eyes met each of them one at a time. Gallows was the only one who seemed to notice the attention, but he did nothing... merely nodded in return and went back to his thoughts... whatever they were.

Hars shifted position, turning away from the room so that his lips couldn't be read. When he spoke, his voice was a whisper.

"They're good lads. Lots of potential... all of 'em. More so than the last bunch."

"So who don't you trust?" Rivus whispered.

"If I didn't trust any of 'em, they'd be dead. Besides, December's people checked 'em all out."

"But you've got that look in your eyes, Hars. I've seen it before. You've got some thoughts in that head of yours, like maybe somethin' ain't quite right? Who don't you trust? No, let me guess.... Gallows."

Hars shook his head.

"Gallows is a strange one. He'll need some watchin', that's for sure. But I think we're safe with him."

"Oh?"

"He's got some kinda honor code, I think.... never mentioned it, never talked about it... but I can see it in him. As long as we're square with him, I think he'll be square with us."

"Honor among theives is a vanishing concept," said Rivus. "one that's gotten more than a few good thieves killed."

"Gallows is no thief," Hars replied. "That's why you wanted him. If December can have his own private assassin... why not us, right?"

"True," Rivus nodded. "What about the twins?"

"Emmerson is cocky and greedy. A little bit too much of both, if ya ask me. But that makes him easy predict and control."

"-and a lot of fun at a party, I'll bet," Rivus added with a chuckle.

"His brother... I think he's here more for Emmerson than anything else. He's certainly not the adventurin' type, despite the look. And neither of 'em is as stupid as they appear. I wouldn't say they'll be a problem, though. Gallows, either. The one I'm concerned about is Thane."

"Yexhill?" Rivus sounded surprised.

"The lad's got some secrets... I'm thinkin' December didn't tell us all there was to know about that one."

"Why? What'd you see?"

"I see a lot of things... and some of 'em don't fit. Give him a fight and he's ready to jump in with both feet..."

"That's good!"

"But he's a bit TOO ready. Too eager."

"Bloodthirsty, then. Even better. I sort of expected that out of Gallows, but not-"

"No, that's just it. I've SEEN bloodlust in a man, but that's not what I get from Thane. The look on his face when he fights, its not what you'd expect. Its as almost like he's... reluctant... like he's carryin' out some duty he don't agree with-"

"A man can't be reluctant and bloodthirsty at the same time, Hars."

"And that's exactly my point."

Rivus seemed to consider Hars' words for a few moments, then, when he drew no coherent conclusions, he just shrugged.

"How'd he do on the raid?" he said.

"Good. Still won't use a weapon unless he has to... likes to fight bare-handed."

"HA," Rivus snorted. "We won't have to worry about him long, then. Gonna get his fool self killed that way."

"Maybe that's what he wants," said Hars.

"Hell, there's a lot less painful ways to do THAT-" Rivus suddenly looked off too the side, eyes jerking quickly to some motion that Hars detected only an instant sooner. Hars turned-

Gallows was standing there.

Gallows had stashed his black cape, and now wore pants and a tight silk shirt... both expensive, and both the color of midnight. Two miniature crossbows hung from his belt like daggers.

"Pardon me, gentlemen," he said. "I believe we have an intruder."

Gallows pointed down the dark hallway leading to the chamber in which they stood. There was a guard standing in front of the entrance, and behind him, the torches threw odd shadows on the stone walls of the corridor.

"I don't see anything," said Hars.

"I'll flush it out," Gallows said calmly. He reached for the bow in his right hip, but the instant his hand moved, a shape detatched itself from the shadows behind the guard and moved forward... not on the floor or the walls, but along the ceiling!

Clinging to the solid rock with some almost-supernatural ease, the man-shaped thing darted soundlessly over the guard's head and into the chamber, heading straight for Rivus and Hars. A long, prehensile tail snaked behind it, slasing back and forth as a counterbalance to the frighteningly quick motions of its bony limbs.

"Ah, hell," Rivus moaned.

"I've got it," Gallows Jim raised his bow and fired-

"NO!" Rivus shouted too late. The bolt flew from the mechanism... and took a tiny chip off of the stone where the creature had been. The thing dropped from the cieling onto the floor, then sprang for the nearest wall. Two more of Gallows' bolts flew past it in the air, missing it by fractions of an inch. The creature's claws found instant purchase in the irregular stone of the wall... it paused for an instant, its dark eyes gleaming at Gallows.

"WHAT THE HELL IS THAT!" Emmerson shouted. He already had a knife in his hand. His arm proscribed a tight arc in the air, and the blade left his fingers, tumbling end over end as it flew toward the creature.

"STOP!" Hars ordered.

The thing's arm shot out and snatched the spinning blade from the air, then quickly returned it in a clumsy but powerful throw-

-bok!-

The knife's handle struck Emmerson right between the eyes. Grabbing his face, Emmerson screamed and staggared backward until he realized that he had not, in fact, been impaled through the skull. Before he took his first stumbling step, however, Hemmingway's hammer was hurtling through the air. The creature darted to the side just as the heavy weapon struck, dislodging a sizeable chunk of stone and even a small spark from the wall.

"Damn, he's quick!" said Hemmingway.

Gallows' steady hand, with crossbow loaded and ready, followed the creature's path...

"Not quick enough-" Gallows whispered-

"Put that thing DOWN, damn ye!" Hars growled. He shoved Gallows' arm down before the archer could fire another bolt.

Suddenly a blast of liquid fire streaked across the room, striking the wall and exploded, sending ripples of flame in all directions. The creature screeched as it scurried toward the cieling, barely managing to stay ahead of the blanket of fire.

"THANE!!" Hars roared. The blast had come from Yexhill Thane's hands... hands that were already glowing in preparation for another. "STAND DOWN!"

"What?" Thane said uncertainly.

"STAND DOWN!"

Thane frowned. His ring made a 'popping' sound, and his hands belched a few embers into the air as the spell died.

"NOBODY MOVE!" Rivus ordered.

"But-" Emmerson began. "But what's THAT!"

He pointed up at the creature, who was now tucked into the shadowy corner where the cieling met the wall. It looked down at the men and made a series of hissing noises.

The noises sounded a lot like-

"HE'S LAUGHING AT US!" said Emmerson.

The hissing grew louder, and the creature pointed one long claw at Emmerson, who was sporting a large bruise on his forhead from where he'd gotten hit with his own knife.

"Actually," said Hemmingway. "It looks more like he's just laughing at YOU, little brother."

"Dammit!" Emmerson reached for another blade... then thought better of it.

"Somebody mind telling me what's going on?" said Thane.

"You were about to get us all killed that's what going on," said Hars. "That thing is with us."

"Well, not WITH US," Rivus corrected. "Its... complicated."

"Its UGLY, that's what it is," said Emmerson.

"You sure you don't want it dead?" Gallows whispered expectantly.

"Positive," Hars replied.

"Very well." Gallows returned his minature crossbows to the specialized holsters on his belt. Then he walked away, seeming to have lost interest in the whole thing. "Let me know when you change your mind..."

Hars turned his scowl upward... toward the creature that had caused so much trouble.

"Well?" he said. "Ya got somethin' ta say or not?"

"That thing talks?" said Emmerson.

The thing crawled down the wall, but didn't join Rivus and Hars on the ground. It clung to the wall beside them, hanging upside down with its head at the same height as theirs. Its neck twisted at an odd angle as it turned its face to Rivus.

Then it spoke.

If it were possible for cats to mate with snakes... and if it were possible that the resulting offspring could speak... its voice would sound almost, but not exactly, like the one that hissed out of the creature's mouth.

"Masster want men go to Bephal!"

"IT TALKS!" Emmerson blurted. Then he added: "OOOOF~!" as Hemmingway nudged him in the side, almost knocking him over.

"Bephal?" said Rivus. "What the hell for?"

The creature hissed. Somewhere near the end of the hiss, more words came.

"J'Hasp tell! Men go!"

"What... NOW!?!? We're going to Bephan NOW!?"

"Men get ready! Lovvorn come... send to Bephal!"

"How many?" Hars asked.

The creature looked at him... its head rotating over 180-degrees to do so

"You go," it said. "Take small! You make quiet... wait for masster! You obey!"

Having apparently exhausted whatever information it was given, the creatue turned and scurried away... leaving the same way that it had entered: crawling along the cieling.

"That..." said Emmerson. "that... what was that?"

"We're not taking orders from that thing, are we?" said Yexhill Thane.

"Yes, we are," Hars replied. He turned to Rivus. "I'll take the new lads. Sounded like he wanted a small group... the five of us should be enough to handle whatever he's got planned."

"But its a monster!" Emmerson cried. "Since when to we take orders from MONSTERS!?!"

"Since ye joined the Night's Bloom, lad," said Hars.

---

"Something has occurred in Bephal," said December as he arraged the items in his travelling case. His pale, muscular fingers tugged at the silk and cashmier and leather, achieving the optimal placement of clothes within the small, portable chest. It was a menial task that he almost considered beneath him, but he'd send J'hasp on an errand and time was of the essence. Theesa hovered nervously around him like him like... like a woman worried about the man she loved. Some part of him wished he could comfort her... or even explain what was happening. He could do neither. "Something of much importance," he added, as if those few words could by themselves could do what he could not.

"What is it?" Theesa replied. Her breath formed a small, brief fog around her face. The temperature in the room hovered just below freezing... and even colder near December. December, of course, did not feel it.

"Its nature is unclear, but apparently it has much to do with me." December closed the chest, and turned to look at Theesa. "I must go-"

"No! Send someone else!"

"I do not expect you to understand."

"But its DANGEROUS! The thing I felt earlier... the dream I had the other night. Whatever is in Bephal... its... its dangerous and it wants YOU!"

December smiled and caressed her cheek. Her skin was so soft... and delicate. So unlike his own. The gesture of affection would have been unconfortable for her if it weren't for the gem she wore around her neck. The gently sparkling gemstone protected her from the cold, and relieved December of having to constantly regulate his temperature when she was near him.

Not that he considered it a burden.

"You are a marvelous woman," he said, looking deep in to her eyes. "Possessed of many talents... but prophetic dreams is not one of them."

"It wasn't a dream, it was a vision... and that, I CAN do. There are things coming, December... terrible, terrible things."

"Then it is good to know that the future has not changed," he replied. "Disaster has loomed on the horizon every day of my life, for longer than I care to admit. It is the nature of my existance... of what I have become. If that ceased to be the case, THEN we would have cause to worry."

"December, what are you ignoring?"

December's brow furrowed at the question. It was odd. Unexpected. He tried to deduce what point she was trying to make but he had found over the past year that her thinking patterns were notoriously difficult to predict. He wondered if there were something within himself that made it so... perhaps he didn't WANT her to be as predictable as everyone else around him. That would be disturbing indeed.

"I do not understand," he replied.

"In my dre... my vision. You were ignoring something. You saw danger, and you ignored it... like it wasn't there at all. You just let it come-"

December shook his head.

"If I were to do such a seemingly foolish thing, it would be for a reason... a step toward a well-calculated end... as is everything I do."

December slid his suitcase from the bed and held it. The case was heavy, but he could carry it almost indefinitely. The heat he absorbed from the air around him provided his frigid muscles with a near-constant supply of energy... espescially now that he didn't have to restrain his metabolism.

Theesa preceeded him out of the room, and kept talking as they descended the stairs.

"But why Bephal!? I thought you were finished with that place?"

"As did I," said December. "But it appears that Bephal is not finished with me."

"So what is your 'well-calculated' reason for going?"

"Information," said December. "N'Doki could discern that something had happened... but he could not tell what it was."

"But once again, why do YOU have to go!?"

"You worry for my safety-"

"You're not answering my question. Why you? And why in the middle of the NIGHT!?"

"Because dere are t'ings to be learned," said N'Doki. The necromancer awaited them in December's sitting room at the bottom of the stairs. Theesa was be surprised to see him... but December was not. The wards on the house had silently notified him of the necromancer's arrival. "Hidden t'ings. And de longer we delay, de more hidden dese t'ings will become. Surely one such as you... one gifted wit de sight... is already aware of dis, no?"

December felt Theesa shudder beside him. Then he felt her hand clutch hers. He held it firmly.

Theesa was afraid of N'Doki. The necromancer's appearance was shocking... he looked like an emaciated corpse with claws, and he exhuded an air of intense malice that had taken December years to grow acclimated to. The malice was not a ruse or camoflague; N'Doki was evil. And very powerful. But he was an evil that could be trusted to act within its own predictable nature. He was focused and, to a certain extent, controllabe... and that made him incrediblely valuable to December December didn't fear the necromancer, but some small part of him flinched whenever Theesa was in his presence. It was more than just a reaction to her own fear... it was something else. He didn't know why he didn't trust N'Doki with Theesa... but he didn't. He had seen first-hand what became of those unfortunate enough to catch N'Doki's eye, but it was something even deeper than that. Even now, December fought the urge to step between them and allow Theesa to sneak back up the stairs to the safety of her room.

But he didn't. He held her hand and nodded at their guest.

"I am ready," said December. "As soon as J'Hasp returns."

N'Doki frowned. The wrinkles of his brow extended all the way up onto his bald, leathery scalp.

"De creature comes wit us," he said in a half-question, half-statement of disapproval.

"As does the Night's Bloom," said December.

N'Doki hissed slightly... almost a snarl.

"Dis is unnecessary."

"Unnecessary? Need I remind you of the LAST time I travelled without an entourage?"

"Dere will be danger for dem," said the necromancer. "Dere presence will interfere-"

"They will not interfere. They WILL, however, be available should I need them."

"You will not need dem."

"Perhaps not. But they will accomany us nontheless."

"But de spirits will not transport dat many men to Bephal-"

"J'Hasp travels with us. Lovvorn will see the Night's Bloom on their way... if they have not left already. There will be no more dicussion of the matter."

"Mmmmm," N'Doki nodded. Then looked off into the shadows of the room. "De creature returns."

Just then, J'Hasp dropped from a small hatch in the cieling, then sprang across the room, landing between December and N'Doki. He crouched there, glancing from one to the other.

J'Hasp did not like the necromancer either, but for December's 'helper' it was more of an instinctual dislike of the unknown than true fear.

"J'Hasp tell," the man-shaped creature hissed at December. "Men make ready."

"Then we shall go," said N'Doki.

"But, what about me?" said Theesa.

"You have everything you need," said December. "Run the store as usual. Lovvorn and Mr. Hood will see to your protection. You will not see Mr. Hood, of course... but he will be there."

"Be careful, December."

"I intend to."

Theesa looked expectanly up at him. December lowered his lips to hers... a brief, but icy kiss.

"I shall return in a few days," he said as he and J'Hasp joined N'Doki in the sitting room. They stood on either side of the necromancer, drawing in as close as possible.

Theesa waved at them... and actually smiled.

The corner of December's lip curled upward in his own version of a smile, just as the N'Doki shouted:

"BEPHAL!"

Instantly, shadows and invisible things began swirling around him. December felt something grab him... several somethings...

...and everything went black.

---

The abyssmal stillness of the Bephal countryside was suddenly shattered by a sound almost... but not exactly... like thunder. A flash of impossible electric blue light accompanied the sound, striking the ground atop a small hill with a sizzling crackle. But neither the thunder nor the flash were born of the dark clouds that scrolled ominously across the black sky. They were from a bit further away... and they brought more than mere sound and fury with them...

The splash of light widened into a glowing portal, through which five armed figures emerged. Two were large... one siginificantly larger than the other. One was small, almost the size of a child. The others were of average size, though the heaps of equipment and muscle clearly maked them as men not to be trifled with. They stepped out of the portal one at a time, and gathered in front of it before it could fade.

"Sure you'll not join us for a drink, Lovvorn?" Emmerson shouted back through the shimmering pool of light.

"I think the prospects for drinking are MUCH better where I am," came a slightly-slurred voice from the other side of the portal. "Besides, I don't think Bephal could sustain a man of my... ehhh... magnificence!"

"Means he'll drink the town dry in a week," Hars mumbled.

"Oh, I doubt it would even last THAT long!"

"That bad, eh?" said Emmerson.

"Worse. You'll see! But I did take the liberty of dropping you near several of the more...ahhh... interesting... local establishments."

"A brothel and a saloon," Yexhill Thane said lazily. He squinted at the row of large, retangular shadows near the horizon. A few of the buildings had lights in the windows, but most of them were dark. As a whole, the line of them had the appearance of black teeth with occasional specks of gold set into the cracks.

"Well thankee very much!" Emmerson beamed.

"Have fun," Lovvorn said, with more than a touch of sarcasm in his voice.

The portal wavered... warbled... teetered... tilted... then folded itself in half and vanished entirely without a sound. The portal's disappearance plunged the men into a near-darkness that was held back only by the light of the almost-full moon. Behind them, the gentle slope of the hill narrowed into a trail winding its way into the forest. Before them, the row of teeth-buildings took on an even more strange and lifeless appearance.

"This town is dead," said Yexhill. "Look at it."

"Even smells dead," Hemmingway added. "Smells like... age Old things and old people..."

"Like those BOOKS you read all the time, Hem!" Emmerson squeaked.

"...the smell you get just before things start to rot," Hemmingway ignored his smaller brother. "There's no life left here."

"I would disagree," Gallows joined in. "Towns die a lot like people. Some go quick... others linger and wallow a while. This town has a bit more dying to do, I think. A bit more lingering and wallowing. Maybe we'll help it along a bit while we're here..."

"You," Emmerson pointed a nimble finger at Gallows. "Are one CREEPY individual!"

"Thank you," said Gallows.

"Well lets see how much life this place has left in it, eh?" Emmerson drew his shortsword and thrust it high, toward the moon. "WOMEN OF BEPHAL BEWARE! THE NIGHT'S- mmmph!"

Hemmingway clapped his hand over Emmerson's mouth.

"We're supposed to keep a low profile, little brother."

"Eh?" The short thief wiggled away from Hemmingway. "We just stepped out of a bloomin' MAGIC PORTAL in the dead of night! Anyone with half an eye and one good ear already knows we're here!"

"That probably leaves out a good portion of the town, I'll bet," said Yexhill.

"We'll save the night's entertainment until AFTER we make camp and AFTER we hear from our employer," said Hars.

"Rivus?" said Emmerson. "Rivus is coming too?!"

"The OTHER emplooyer."

"Ah."

"When you say 'make camp,'" said Yexhill Thane. "I take it that means we won't be staying in town."

"That's right."

"...damn..." Emmerson grunted.

"There are lots of old cabins in these woods," said Hars. "Hunter's cabins. Bandit hideaways. We'll find us one that hasn't completely rotted away, then wait."

Hars started down the far side of the hill, heading out of town.

"Ohhhh, that sounds reeeeal fun," Emmerson grumbled as they followed.

---

The shadows were invisible in the darkness, and the things that accompanied them would have remained unseen even in the light of day.

And yet, when the storm of spirits and unknowable things converged on the end of a deserted street, they formed a roiling knot of darkness not unlike a giant fist clutching at the air. The fist quaked at the exertion of its own strength... and then, with a sound like the hiss of wind through dry leaves, its fingers uncoiled to gently deposit three human shapes onto the cobblestones of Bephal.

December's eyes glowed faintly as he looked out at the street.

"You could have brought us to a place that was a bit less conspicuous," he said.

"Dere is no one here to see us," N'Doki replied. The necromancer was right. They were alone. December saw no one, and, had there been anything concealed in the shadows, J'Hasp's supernaturally acute senses would have detected it almost immediatly. But instead of shrieking a warning and trotting off to defend his master, J'Hasp crouched silenly at December's feet and sniffed at the air.

"The streets are quiet," December remarked. "Unusually so... Even for the dead of night in Bephal."

"Dey are quiet only for dose who's hearing is limited to the sounds of de living," said N'Doki. "For N'Doki, dere is much to hear."

"Have you learned anything yet?"

"Hmmmmm," The necromancer tilted his head slightly, as if listening. Then he raised his hand... not to cast a spell, but to simply look upon its shrivelled, clawed shape.

"What is it?"

"Syrup," said N'Doki.

December waited for the necromancer to explain himself. In time, he did.

"Dere is a force here. A power..."

"We know this much," said December. "Thus, our presence here."

"Yes, but dis t'ing... it permeates de city... de ground.... de air. It does not want me here. It resists every motion dat I make... it fights me for control of de spirits."

"I sense nothing."

"But to one such as me, tis like swimming in a pool of syrup. While dis power remains, de spirits will be slow to act... if dey can act at all."

"You have felt this type of resistance before."

"In holy places, yes," said N'Doki. "But dere is not'ing holy about DIS place, December."

December nodded. N'Doki had taken a quiet a few words to say that his power would be diminished during their stay. This was an eventuallity that December was well prepared for.

"J'Hasp, determine the location and status of the Night's Bloom, then search the town for... anything that has changed since our last visit. Report before dawn."

"Yess, masster." J'Hasp trotted off alone, followed only by one of N'Doki's most disapproving looks.

"And where would YOU have us begin?" December said to this remaining companion.

"MMmm," N'Doki turned around and pointed to small ridge of city that curved behind them. There were a few empty stores... stores that would have still been empty had they had arived at noon instead of midnight... and behind them loomed a large two-story house. The house was the only structure in that part of the city that had lights in the windows. Perhaps it was the overly-ornate style of the walls... or the overly-realistic sneer of the stone gargoyles perched on its rooftops... or the simple way that it rose from the surrounding buildings as boldly daring anyone to take notice of it... Perhaps it was NONE Of these things, but whatever it was... the presence of lights in the house's windows actually made it seem LESS inhabited... LESS inviting... than the eerie dark structures around it.

"Dere," said N'Doki. "Dere is where we shall go."

---

Floyd D'Arcy sighed pleasureably as he extended his old... and cold... feet toward the fire. He'd just given the blaze a good stoking, prodding new life into the fading coals and half-burnt logs.

"Ahhh," he said, pulling the blanket tightly around him, leaving only his feet, his wrinkled face and unruly mop of gray hair exposed. The chair was big and comfortable enough for him to sleep in, and that was what he intended to do. Yes, indeed... the fire was going strong and he saw no reason to chill his old bones just to go up stairs to his room. Nope... no reason at all.

All he needed was a pillow or two.

He opened his mouth to call for Francesca, but as his feeble lungs sucked in their first gasp of air, a sudden scream tore at the silence like some wild, hungry thing.

"DAMN!" Floyd grunted as he threw back the blanket and rose from his chair. He quickly tied his robe and snatched his fur-lined slippers from the fireplace hearth. He shoved his wrinkled feet into the shoes as he shuffled awkwardly toward the stairs. Above him... behind a locked door on the second floor... the horrible screaming continued. "FRANCESCA!" he shouted. "FRANCESCAAA!"

A door slammed.

"HE'S DOING IT AGAIN!" Floyed shouted.

"I'm coming!" a female voice huffed. Francesca D'Arcy... a shapely woman who was only beginning to sag and wrinkle in the more noticeable places... trotted down the hallway, her own robe fluttering behind her. By the time the old man reached the room, Francesca was already seated on the edge of the bed.

She had pulled the sheet back from the boy's torso, revealing a thin frame coated with sweat. Casey's brownish hair was plastered to his head. His eyes were shut tight, and his mouth was wide open. Even as Floyd entered, the boy's chest heaved and he unleashed another terrifying scream.

"Dammit!" Floyd clapped his hands to his ears.

"Shhh! Shhh! Casey, honey, it's just a dream... just a dream..."

"NO! NO! NO! NO! NO!" The boy howled... his first intelligible words since the screaming had begun.

"Shhhh..." Francesca placed her hand on his forehead. The boy shrieked as if she were burning him with hot coals. Francesa jerked her hand away and turned desperately to Floyd.

"I can't calm him!" she cried, shaking her head.

"Move, girl," said Floyd. "Let me try."

Francesca stood up, but continued to hover near the bed as Floyd took her place at the boy's side. The old man's joints cracked noisily as he sat.

"Casey..." he began. The boy began to shake. "Casey, its me... papa."

Casey screamed until his lungs were empty-

"Casey, its grandpa!" Floyd repeated more sternly. He grabbed the boy's shoulder. His old fingers looked like grotesque, knotted worms trying to claw their way into the boy's smooth young skin. He shook the boy, but only lightly. "Casey!"

Casey gasped. His eyes snapped open and his body clenched... drawing as tight as a bow-string.

"...papa.... papa help me..." he whispered. "I can hear them... I can hear them! Papa, make them go away PLEASE!"

"Shhhh, you don't hear anything boy. Its just a dream."

"Noooo! They're REAL! They're real and they're ALL OVER ME!"

Casy shrank away, sinking into the bed as if pulling back from some unseen horror above him. He started to scream again-

"Casey, PLEASE! Stay with me, boy! Wake up... wake up and come back to me!"

"Papa, they're REAL! They're REAL, I SWEAR!!"

"What's he talking about, papa?" Francesca said nervously.

"Shhhh... I'm right here, Casey. No need to be afraid, papa's right here..."

"They're REAL! They're REAL!"

"Is it like last time, boy?"

"WORSE! They're screaming at me! They're EVERYWHERE and they're SCREAMING!! Papa make them stop, PLEEEASE!!!"

There was, of course, no other sound in the house save for Casey's own terrified voice.

"We have to take him to Gandrick," said Francesca. "I'll get him dressed-"

"The boy doesn't need a healer!" Floyd snapped. "Look at him... he's in PERFECT health! Hell of a lot healthier than I was at ten, I'll tell ya!"

"But he's never been like this before... never! And now, twice in one night!"

"He's having a nightmare, that's all. Still half-asleep... still dreaming. We just have to wake him up."

"PAPAAA!" Casey screamed. "ITS INSIDE ME!"

"This is NO nightmare!" Francesca leaned beside Floyd and tried to take the boy up in her arms.

"What are you doing!?" Floyd protested.

"I'm-"

Francesca had barely gotten her arm around Casey when the boy reached out and grabbed her by the throat with both hands. His small fingers dug deep into her trachea as he sat up and snarled into his mother's face. The breath that passed his lips was foul beyond words, and when he spoke, his young voice was joined by that of something barely human:

"Don't you see what's going on, you STUPID BITCH!!?!"

"CASEY!" Floyd grabbed the boy's arms and tried to pull them away... but Casey's flesh was like iron. The boy's hands fell away from Francesca's throat of their own accord, not because of anything Floyd did. Casey fell back onto the bed and exhaled a deep gust of fetid breath. Floyd felt something cold brush past him... snatching most of the heat he had trapped inisde his robe.

"What the-"

Fransecsa staggered back from the bed, her own hands pawing at her bruised throat as both she and Casey gasped for air.

"Francesca!"

"Take him to the healer, PLEASE!" she cried... literally cried. Twin streams of tears rolled down her cheeks. "PLEASE, Father, he needs help!"

"If he needs help, I don't think its the kind that Gandrick and give him."

"...coming..." Casey whispered. "Coming... coming... coming..."

"What's coming, Casey... what is it?" said Francesca.

"...coming...coming...coming," Casey continued. Each repitition was louder and more insistant than the last. "Coming! Coming! COMING!"

"Casey what IS IT!? Tell Papa what's got you!"

"COMING! COMING! COMING!"

"DAMMIT, BOY!" Floyd snapped. He shook the boy again. Gently. "TELL US HOW TO HELP YOU!"

"COMING! COMING!"

Casey fell silent. His wide eyes stared up at the cieling... then sloooowly moved to fix on his grandfather.

"What's coming, boy?" said Floyd.

"...something... wicked..."

BANG!
BANG!
BANG!

The sudden explosions nearly shocked the soul right out of Floyd D'Arcy's old body. Francesca stifled a scream... and even then, she yelped as the noise came again-

BANG!
BANG!
BANG!

This time, Floyd recognized them.

The front door.

Someone was knocking at the front door, using that old brass knocker like it was a cannonball.

"Papa!" Casey clutched Floy's wrist. "Don't answer it!"

"Who could that be at this hour!?"

"I don't know," said Floyd. "But we'll find out in a minute..."

Floyd stood up and started from the room.

"What about Casey!? Are we going to take him to Gandrick? Should I-"

"He looks fine now," said Floyd. "You're fine now... aren't you, Casey?"

"...she's frightened, Papa..."

"Your mother's just worried-"

"Not her," said the boy. "The... the OTHER lady... she's scared..."

Floyd looked into the boy's eyes. The boy stared deep into his.

"What's he talking about, papa?" said Francesca. "What 'other lady'?"

"I-"

BANG!
BANG!
BANG!

"I don't know," said Floyd. "Tuck the boy in... tuck him in GOOD, now, its freezing in here."

Floyd hurried from the room, feeling the weight of cold dread lift from his shoulders as soon as he left. It was a weight he didn't know he carried until it was gone. He shuddered at its sudden absence... and shuddered again at the cold air.

BANG!
BANG!
BANG!

"ALRIGHT, ALREADY!" Floyd growled as he descended... slippered feet shuffling across the carpeted steps. "I'm coming, damn ye!"

Floyd paused at the fireplace. He stood before the fire and opened his robe to try and capture some of the heat. Then he snatched the thick garment closed and tied it tightly as he continued toward the door.

He peeked through the window and saw two shapes standing outside. The moon was behind them, so all Floyd saw were their outlines.

"Who's there!"

"Weary trav'lers," one of the figures said. It was a deep male voice with a thick, unidentifiable accent. "Seeking a room for de night."

"I'm sorry," said Floyd. "This isn't an inn. Hasn't been for a long time. Move on."

"Perhaps then, you can allow us a moment's rest before we continue," said an even deeper voice. "We have come a very long way."

"Look," Floyd sighed. "The Smoking Dragon Inn is just a few streets over. Their lights may be out, but I assure you, they've got rooms for rent-"

"I will happily reward you for your trouble," said deep-voice.

"R-reward?" said Floyd. The words stuck in his mind like an old, rusty fishook. Something within him shuddered. It was a GOOD kind of shudder. He thought for a moment... and his hand was on the door-latch before he had even decided to, at the very least, have a LOOK at the two strangers.

The door creaked softly as he opened it.

The men standing on the other side were most unusual indeed. The largest one... broad of chest and wide of shoulder... would have been quite hansome if it weren't for the strange skin condition that afflicted him. The man was pale beyond words... whiter than a corpse. He was almost like the albino that Floyd had seen at the travelling freakshow years back, except that where that pitiful creature's skin was tinted with hints of pink, THIS man's flesh actually had twinge of blue. His eyes were the color of a cold sky, and his hair was like snow. The man looked like a chunk of winter that had broken off and drifted to Floyd's doorstep.

He also looked vaguely familiar. Perhaps if Floyd saw him in better light, he'd be able to remember where he knew this man from.

The second man was taller... and darker. This stranger's skin was a smooth, deep brown that glistened in the moonlight. He wore a dark-blue robe that concealed his shape...and anything that he carried with him... but the arms that protruded from the sleeves were almost too thin. A mat of tight black hair clung closely to his skull, and one frail-seeming hand clutched a long, gnarled staff that ended in a large bulb at one end. Sharp facial features and deep-set eyes glared down at Floyd like a hawk. When the man smiled, Floyd flinched at the rows of perfect white teeth.

"Who are you?" he asked softly... with only the merest hint of annoyance. "Do I know you?"

"Perhaps," said the large pale man. "I am no stranger to Bephal, though it has been some time since my last visit. My name is-"

"December!" Floyd gasped. The realization had come suddenly that this man... this man standing on his doorstep... was THE December, the diamond merchant that had damn near OWNED half of Bephal just a few years ago. Well... maybe not HALF. Jerimiah Trisk owned that distinction, but December had been a close second. "Good gods! What..."

"And my companion is N-"

"Nodoki Tebishi Mo'kel Indir," said the taller man with the accent. It took Floyd several moments to realize that the sounds the man had made were actually a NAME and not a string of random gibberish. Nodoki bowed slightly, making a quick, fluid motion possible only in the very young or the very limber. Floyd nodded in return.

"...uhhh..." Floyed gazed in awe at the men on his doorstep... unaware that he had begun to shiver from the cold air that was blowing in from the outside.

"May we come in?" said December.

"Uhhh...c-...uhhh... come in? OH! Oh, yes, of COURSE!"

Floyd stepped aside, allowing the men to enter his home. Nodoki entered first, bringing with him the scent of strange spices and powerful incense. The aroma was almost intoxicating. When December passed him, the accompanying wave of cold finished sapping the heat from Floyd's robe. The old man quickly shut the door and shuffled over to the fire.

"...d-din't realize it was THAT cold out there..." he said as he warmed his hands.

"It is not," said December. "I must apoligize for any discomfort cause by my... condition."

"Condition? Oh! Oh yes, I seem to remember something about that, now."

"I am sure you do," said December.

"No bother! This house is always cold... a little more won't make that much difference."

"Indeed," said December. He looked around at the room's furnishings, as if appraising them in his mind. The other man... Nodoki... was just staring off into space, paying rapt attention to something that no one else in the room could see.

"W-would you c-care to warm yourselves by the fire?"

"That is not physically possible," said December.

"De temperature make no difference to me," said Nodoki. The dark-skinned man suddenly looked up... at the cieling. There was nothing there. But the fact that Casey's room was directly above them was not lost on Floyd.

"Ummm... y-you said you were looking for a place to stay?" said Floyd.

"Yes," December replied. "Then inn you directed us too-"

"Oh, no! You can't stay there! Well... well you COULD if you wanted to, of course, but its... its an old place and the service is... well... when you're the only inn still open in Bephal, you don't have to try all that hard to earn business, if you know what I'm saying."

"The only inn?" said December. "When I left, there were several."

"All closed," said Floyd. "Business isn't what it used to be. BEPHAL isn't what it used to be."

"So I have seen." said December.

"We have room here," said Floyd. "This used to be a boarding house. Long time ago. Its cold and drafty, but better than you'll find at the Smoking Dragon."

"I do not wish to impose, Mr...?"

"D'Arcy. Floyd D'Arcy."

"Well, Mr. D'Arcy... if it would not be too great an impososition, my companion and I may wish to stay here while we conclude our business in town. As I mentioned before..." December reached into his pocket, and when he extened his hand toward Floyd, Floyd saw two small diamonds resting in December's palm. "I am willing to reimburse you for any inconvienence."

The gems glimmered beautifully in the firelight.

"...ahhhh..." Floyd's fingers twitched. He didn't know wether to take the diamonds or... or just stare at them.

"Take them, Mr. D'Arcy," said December. "I assure you, they are quite real. And they are yours."

Floyd's throat went dry. Those two gems were worth more than... more than Floyd could estimate at the moment.

"Uhhh...y-... uhhh..." Floyd reached out and took the diamonds. His eyes watered as he looked at them. "Th-thank you?"

"Father?" Francesca's voice called from upstairs. "Father who was that at the-" She rounded the corner and appeared at the top of the steps. "-Door?"

"Francesca," His daughter's appearance helped snap Floyd out of his daze. He smile broadly, fingers curling into a fist around the tiny gems. "Francesca, be a good girl and fetch some fresh linens for our guests!"

---

Paula's shoes shuffled noisily through the dirt as, bucket in hand, she approached the ancient well. The middle-aged woman disliked being out so late at night, but the wee hours of Bephal's morning weren't quite as dangerous as they had been in years past... so there was no real excuse not to get a head-start on the morning's chores. True, it was nowhere near morning, but Paula hadn't been able to sleep, so it may as well have been three hours past dawn.

The well occupied the intersection of two dirt roads in the poorer section of town. It was a brick rectangle resting atop a small platform that also served as a perch for the town crier... back when Bephal HAD a town crier. Unlike the wells in the richer section, this watering hole didn't have a fancy mechanical pump to draw the water. Paula doubted she could ever figure out how to work such a device anyway. She prefered the simple ways best, and things didn't get much simlper than a rope, a pulley, and a bucket.

Paula walked up the wooden steps and tied her bucket to the end of the frayed rope. The well was supposed to have its OWN bucket, but no one had replaced it after some anonymous prankster had drilled holes in the bottom it.

Yes, that had been a very funny joke indeed.

Paula threw a few heavy rocks into the bucket to weigh it down, then shoved it off the edge.

The pulley was attached to a rickety wooden frame above her. The entire structure rattled as gravity snached the bucket, taking it down into the depths. The pulley reeled off foot after foot of rope, marking each turn with a loud squeak until finally the bucket hit the water. The rope jerked... and then continued to reel off as the bucket sank. Paula grabbed the handle and arrested its progress with a quick application of her muscles.

She sighed. Not in weariness, but in boredom. Then she began turning the crank... leaning into it at the top of its circle, and straining back on it at the bottom. She punctuated each jerk of her muscles with a loud hum... forming the notes of some ballad whose words she'd forgotten long ago.

"Hmm-HMMM... HmmmHmmmHMMM!... HmmHMMM!"

The pulley creaked out its accompanyment as the bucket rose. Paula heard it clear the water below. Ten turns of the wheel and she would be headed back to the house...

"HmmmHMMM!"
-creak-
"HmmHmmHMMMHmmm-"
-creak-
"Hmmm-"

-creeeeeeak!

The pulley groaned loudly, and the wheel yanked to a stop despite Paula's steady effort.

"Huh?"

She jerked the wheel. The pully creaked. The wooden frame shook. The bucket didn't move.

She yanked again, grunting as she put more force into it.

The wheel moved, snatching free of whatever obstruction had snagged it. The sudden motion nearly caused Paula to lose her balance, but she kept her grip and continued to pull-

-creeeeeeeeeak-

The wheel froze again.

"...dag-nabbit!" She swore. She pulled hard...

The wheel turned sloowlly... and stopped...

...then turned back the other way. Something was pulling the bucket back down into the well!

"Nnnngh!" Paula groaned as she fought with the pulley. She adjusted her grip, braced her feet against the wall of the well, and pulled as hard as she could. "Nnnnngh!!"

The wooden frame... and Paula's joints... groaned loudly as the strain increased-

-creeeeeeaak-
SNAP!

The wooden cross-beam broke in half. Paula leapt back just in time to avoid being hit by the frame as the entire works came tumbling down. The pulley, the rope, the handle... all of it vanished into the well, nearly taking Paula's head with it. The frame's remains hit the water with a loud splash. Echoes of it rose from the well for several unconfortable seconds, until finally they faded... leaving Paula alone with the sound of her own exhausted, startled breaths.

And she didn't even have any water to show for her efforts.

Paula scratched her head, then crept up to the well. She leaned over the wall and looked down. Ordinarrily she'd be able to catch glimpses of the stars or moon reflected in the water below... but since it was cloudy, all she saw was blackness.

Perhaps in the morning, somebody would be able to see what the bucket had gotten hung up on-

...wait...

Paula squinted into the darkness, not sure that she had seen what she thought she saw. Movement? Yes... the water was still agitated from the hardware that had just fallen in. But... what was that?

...that thing? That thing down there... what was it? Was it moving, or was it just...?

Frowning, Paula leaned over a little further...

...a little bit further.

The splash and the sudden burst of motion sent Paula flying back from the well... or it WOULD have if her muscles had had time to react. But by the time she heard it... by the time she SAW it... the large green tentacle was a already wrapped around her torso. It reached out of the darkness, encircled her shoulders and snatched her down, squeezing tighter and tighter her as she fell. Paula's scream died prematurely, lost in the roaring crackle of her ribs shattering like glass the thing's grip.

Paula was dead by the time she hit the water.

It got worse after that.

[To Be Continued]