"...so how are we enjoying our trip to the armpit of Iffrean so far?" Emerson chatted casually with himself. He punctuated his sentence with a loud 'rip' from Floyd D'Arcy's antique tablecloth... which he was busily cutting into long strips. "Have you seen all the wonderful attractions? The ghostly hordes, the overflowing cemeteries... the unkillable zombies. And- oh!- our newest attraction, the subterranean monster that sucks people into giant holes in the street! You can't leave Bephal without seeing THAT! Of course... if you did see it you'd probably never leave Bephal anyway-"

"Oh for pity's sake, gimme the damn BANDAGES already!" Yexhill Thane snatched the makeshift bandages from Emerson's grasp. "You're killin' me!"

Thane started wrapping the strips of white cloth around his feet. The Disciple had done a fair job shredding the skin around his soles and ankles, but the damage was mostly cosmetic. There would be no permanent damage, other than a few nasty scars.

Of course, that prognosis had come from Yexhill Thane himself. The only real doctor capable of making a true diagnosis was currently unconscious, with a face that looked a lot like Yexhill Thane's shredded feet.... only worse.

"Just be glad its your FEET that bastard got a hold of," said Hars, who was cleansing the blood from Gandrick's face. "Else you'd end up like this fella here."

"He gonna live?" Thane asked.

"Maybe, but he's gonna be ugly."

Emerson burst out laughing. Thane looked at him... and then he started to laugh, too.

Hars shook his head.

"YOU said it!" Emerson chuckled. "Not us!"

Emerson, Thane, Hars, and Gandrick occupied the boarding house's common room. They all turned toward the front door when it opened. Hemingway Shaw entered, carrying Gallows draped over his right shoulder.

"Where do you want this one?" said Hemingway.

"Is he bleeding?"

"No-" Hemingway and Gallows said together.

"You awake?"

"Yes"

"Then why the hell am I carrying you!?"

FWUMP!

Hemingway dropped Gallows onto the floor next to Thane's chair and walked over to Hars.

"He ready for stitches?"

"Clean as he's gonna get," Hars replied.

"Good." Hemingway knelt down and, armed with a needle and sewing thread, started to sew Gandrick's face back together with tight rows of neat, professional stitches.

"Ahem," Gallows said, sitting up on the floor and wiping the dirt from his face. "You might wanna-"

"AAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!" Gandrick screamed as he woke up in the middle of Hemingway's surgery.

A rapid application of knuckles to the left temple returned the doctor to a peaceful slumber.

"Thank you, nurse," said Hemingway.

"Any time," said Hars.

"A little bit more warning next time, eh Gallows? He popped three stitches. This man can still bleed to death, you know."

"I think you missed your calling," said Hars, clearly impressed with Hemingway's handiwork. "You should have been a healer, not a fighter."

"No, I should have been a teacher," Hemingway said as he continued his sutures. "But that's all irrelevant now, isn't it? We've gotten ourselves in a bit too deep to change careers now."

"So now it's your turn, Mr. Assassin," said Emerson. "Mr. Dark and Dangerous... Mr. Nobody-Escapes-The-Gallows... you care to explain why we're having to scrape your sorry ass off the street just now?"

"Misunderstanding," said Gallows.

"Between you and....?"

Gallows jerked his thumb upward.

"Ah."

The front door opened again, and this time Floyd D'Arcy hobbled in. The old man was visibly upset.

"I couldn't catch her!" Floyd announced in a loud, wavering voice. "I shouted... but she won't listen to reason! She said she won't set foot back in this house as long as... well..."

"Us." said Thane.

"Yes. And December."

"Well HE'S dead now, so she's halfway there already," said Emerson.

"He's not dead," Hars said quickly. "The last time we saw him, he was alive."

"Yeah," Emerson said mockingly. "Riiiiiiight. And here I am thinking that I've found my first steady job with people I really like... and what happens on the first trip out? The boss gets swallowed by a giant root."

"Boss?" said Floyd.

Hars looked at Emerson, and then at Floyd.

"We actually work for December," Hars said sternly, with sharp eyes stabbing at Emerson.

"I see. So I'm guessing that makes you... uhhh..."

"Circus performers," Emerson said with a smile.

"Glad to meet all of you," said Floyd. "Now are any of you going to go fetch my daughter and grandson?"

"No."

"Nope."

"Nuh-uh."

"Not a chance."

"I'm rather busy stitching this man's face back on at the moment. Perhaps afterward.... but I doubt it."

"But it's dangerous out there! She's defenseless!"

"She's defenseless in here, too," said Hars. "Given our recent track record, I think I'd be taking my chances out there, as well, given the choice."

"And I hate to break this to ya, Mr. D'Arcy," Thane added. "But we've got more pressing matters to concern ourselves with-"

"Yeah, like how we're gonna get PAID with December down in a HOLE somewhere!"

"...this man is as good as he's gonna get," Hemingway announced as he got up from his place besides Gandrick. He had done a fair job of stitching the doctor's wounds closed. The doctor himself could have undoubtedly done better, but he was in no condition to do so. "That thing damn near took the lower half of his face clean off. Hmmm... now that I step back and look, maybe he could use a few more stitches-"

"He's good enough," said Hars. "If he'll live, that's more than good enough."

"And now on to IMPORTANT matters," said Emerson. "Do you think Mr. Hood will blame ME for letting December fall down in that hole? I mean... it wasn't REALLY my fault; but if he's going to blame ME then I'd just as soon stay here in Bephal and have my face ripped off, thank you very much."

"I don't know, lad." Hars reached into his pocket and took out a large coin. "I suppose we'd better ask him. We're out of our league here, gentlemen. Reinforcements are-"

Suddenly, the coin flew from Hars' hand and shot across the room... ending its flight in N'Doki's leathery palm

"Not required," said the necromancer.

N'Doki had restored his illusion of humanity, however the acrid stench of charred flesh still hung about him in a visible haze. He had appeared in a far corner of the room just in time to prevent Hars from using the signal coin. Having done so, he now approached the others... walking slowly and with a distinct limp.

"What do you think you're doing?" Hars glared at the necromancer.

"Preventing one mistake from becoming a disaster," said N'Doki. "I warned December of de dangers of your presence here. Summoning de odders will make t'ings infinitely worse."

"I don't think they can GET any worse," said Emerson. "In case you haven't noticed... we're MISSING someone, here. Like DECEMBER!"

"I am aware of everyt'ing dat has transpired," said N'Doki. "I am also aware of what WILL happ'n if more outside forces... espescially Mr. Hood... set foot in dis town."

"So what do YOU want us to do, then?" said Thane

"No, no, no-" Hars interrupted angrily. "Don't ask him. HE'S not in charge here. In December's absence, Mr. Hood is in charge. After him comes Lovvorn, then Zade... then Rivus and me! THIS man isn't even IN the chain of command! Hmmm... I wonder why that is? Could it be he doesn't trust you as far as he can THROW you! You're going to give me that coin back and then we're going to get December away from that thing by any and all means at our disposal."

N'Doki made a dry, coughing sound. It was a chuckle.

"What's so funny?" said Thane. The fighter stood up, wincing at the pain from his feet, yet still managing to step menacingly in front of N'Doki. "I'm not afraid of you, you know. Give the man back his coin so we can get on with things."

N'Doki laughed again.

Hemingway appeared beside Thane.

"Do you really want to be the one standing in the way of a rescue attempt?"

"December cannot be rescued!" N'Doki laughed into their faces.

"You saying he's dead, then?" said Hars. "Is that what you're saying?"

"N'Doki's words are plain enough... even for ones such as you. N'Doki say dat December cannot be rescued. Dat does not mean dat he is dead... only dat dere is not'ing YOU or anyone else can do to for him."

"You'll forgive us if we don't believe you," said Thane.

"We're men of action, Mr. N'Doki," Hemingway added. "We like to find those things out for ourselves."

"Yeah, what's THAT gonna look like, eh?" said Emerson. "We get back to Montfort and find out that we COULD have done something to save him... but nooooo, we listened to SKELETOR here and sat on our asses instead!? No thanks."

"But it occurs to me," Thane said sternly. "That if this guy knows so much... then he ALSO knows exactly where December is, and exactly how we can get to him."

"That makes sense," said Hemingway. "Perfect sense."

"N'Doki knows where December is. But you cannot reach him. None of you would survive de trip."

"Bull." said Hars. "You got December and yourself here from Montfort in the blink of an eye. You saying you can't do the same thing to take us to him?"

"Yes, I am saying dat."

"Hey Hars," said Thane. "Any time you want me to start beating on this guy, you just let me know."

N'Doki smiled at him.

"N'Doki finds all of you very amusing. Dat is fortunate for you; but does not change de fact dat none of you belong here. Further involving yourself in de affairs of dis town will only bring pain to yourselves and dose around you."

"Seems to me that this town has involved itself in OUR affairs," said Emerson. "What with snatching our meal ticket and all."

"This thing lives underground, said Hars. "And its been filling in its tunnels all over town... including the one in the basement of this house. There's no way we can get to December without help. Now either you provide that help... or you give me that coin back so I can get a REAL mage in here!"

...Gallows cleared his throat for no apparent reason...

"Or," said N'Doki. "We can wait."

"Wait for what? Do you WANT December to die!?"

"No. I want December to learn."

Hars sighed.

"Hemingway... Please take your hammer and start pounding on that cryptic bastard until either some straight answers or my signal-coin pops out of him."

"Your wish is my command-" Hemingway hefted his hammer.

"You would dare attack a man who can sent you to hell with the wave of a finger?" N'Doki said calmly.

"Ummmmmm... yes."

Hemingway started to swing his weapon at N'Doki's head, but Floyd D'Arcy stepped between him and N'Doki.

"WAIT!"

"Old man, you almost got your head knocked off."

"Before you all start bouncing around my house like a bunch of animals, could you PLEASE go and get my daughter!"

"Why don't YOU go get her!" said Emerson. "We're talking BUSINESS here!"

"De woman is of no consequence," said N'Doki. "However... de boy..."

N'Doki fell silent for a moment, as if he were listening to something that no one else in the room could here. Then, he spoke.

"...is in danger."

"SEE!" Floyd blurted.

"You'll excuse us if we don't give a damn about some kid," said Emerson.

"You wish to do battle wit dis t'ing dat has taken December?" said N'Doki. "Den do not seek it in its lair, where it is strongest. It wants de boy... it will come for him. Soon."

"Oh, my..." Floyd gasped. "We have to do something!"

"Can we kill this thing?" said Thane. "With YOUR help? Can we kill it and rescue December?"

"No," said N'Doki. "N'Doki does not haf de power. But perhaps...hmmm... yessss..."

N'Doki listened again.

"Yes. I go... follow if you wish."

The necromancer started for the door.

"HEEYY! Where are you going!" said Emerson.

"To find de boy. N'Doki let him go before,... I now realize dat was a mistake."

The necromancer opened the door and went out into the dark gray morning.

"Ummm... did we just convince him to help us?" said Emerson. "I'm confused."

"Either way, he's not getting out of my sight," said Hars. "Thane, you stay here with the doctor. The rest of you grab what ya brought with ya and lets go."

"WHAT?! Come ON! I'm not gonna miss out on a fight!"

"I think you've seen more than enough fighting," said Hemingway.

"What, am I on a QUOTA now?"

"Actually, I think you are," said Hemingway.

"Stay here. Neither you or that doctor is gonna be any good to us in a fight. That's an order."

"Yeah, yeah," Thane plopped back down in Floyd's chair. The rest of the Night's Bloom followed N'Doki outside, taking care not to slam the door too loudly behind them.

"...and if they think I'm gonna stay here while they go get themselves killed without me, they're crazy."

---

December watched with cool, dispassionate eyes as the burnt husk of Jessica Chyrnomir gave up its final spark of life. The woman who had been his wife died with love on her lips... burned alive by thugs who had come looking for HIM.

December watched the memory unfold across his mind. He picked it apart... dissected it into its component impressions:

The smell of her still burning hair. The flakes of burnt skin and hair falling from her scalp like dirty snow. The crackle of her flesh against his hands as he held her. The weight of her body... and the way it shifted when she died.

It was all perfect. Everything was exactly the way it had been that day. It was as if he were still there... as if the moment had never ended and everything that had happened in the decades since had been but an incredibly complex delusion.

But of course the memory was perfect... after all, it was HIS memory.

And that is what made it disturbing. December was perfectly capable of recalling each of these details... singly or as a whole... any time he wished. There were times... very rarely... when he did so. This was not one of those times. Yet, persistence and clarity of the memories was such that he had to conclude that HE was somehow producing them. No outside force was injecting these images into his thoughts... he was doing it himself.

December's own mental defenses... created through years of practice controlling his own thoughts... reduced the possibility of some telepath pulling memories out of his mind. Such things were possible, but not without his knowledge. He sensed no such intrusions now.

So why was he reliving this event? And why couldn't he stop it?

Oh yes, he had tried. But for all his will and concentration, he could not stop the flow of sensations... of memories. He was stuck... here... in the past.

But he wasn't. He was not kneeling in the street, holding the corpse of his dead wife. He was... somewhere else. He had been unconscious for a time, although he had no recollection of actually LOSING consciousness. He had been falling. There was water...

And then he was here... in the past. His actual PHYSICAL location was being kept from him by some agency that could only be HIMSELF. He was keeping himself from waking up.

He was forcing himself to relive this... event.

Why?

December tried again to open his eyes (his REAL eyes), but his efforts were without effect. In his memories, time had frozen. He was still kneeling there on the street as if waiting for some signal. In the real world, this had been the moment of maximum emotional anguish. That fact was not lost on December, but he could not see the REASON for wallowing in events long past... unless...

...was he attempting to provoke some type of reaction? From Himself?

A sharp pain in December's side nearly shattered the illusion. It was sudden and unexpected, and it had not been present years ago. This was recent... new...

...Real.

Within the confines of his memories, December clutched his side and felt-

-for a moment there was something there. Something hard and tubular, protruding from his right flank near his kidney. His fingers grazed it... and then it was gone. The pain it had caused vanished with it.

The memories changed. With the flutter of curtains in a breeze, the scene around December moved forward in time. Now, instead of clutching his wife's body, he was confronting the men who had killed her. Time did not stop here, but it did slow to a maddening crawl. Lonnik King had just dropped his blade... which had turned ice-cold in his rapidly numbing grasp. The man fell, and December caught him. December's hand grabbed Lonnik's jaw...

A twinge of anger.

So small... so insignificant compared to what December had ACTUALLY felt that day. But there it was. Here and now... for real. He felt it.

The memory continued. And, as the lower half of Lonnik King's face came loose in December's hand... December felt his abdomen tighten. His heart beat faster. The anger. The rage. It felt good...

Time stopped. Just as it had done before, December's memory paused so that he could bask in the agony... and the power.

He had killed Lonnik King.

And now, he was doing it again. It felt even better the second time.

And perhaps the THIRD time would be even better...

December's memory backed itself up a few seconds... paused... and then crept forward again.

Yes, it WAS better the third time.

And the forth.

And the fifth.

December expected the sixth, seventh, and twentieth iterations to loose some of their pungent, wicked ecstasy... but he was wrong. It just kept getting better.

STOP

The frenzied loop in December's memory fluttered to a halt. Muscles all over his body started to contract as if under strain. Some of them WERE under strain. A series of odd, gushing sensations flashed in and out of his awareness... along his back... his side... his abdomen. They came quickly, and vanished.

Then he started to kill Lonnik King for the forty-second time.

STOP December thought again.

No.

The reply came as an unpleasant shock to December. Quickly, he checked again for any sign of telepathic intrusion. There was none. There was no one in his mind except him.

His own thoughts had answered him.

That was not possible. For someone who was insane, or who lacked even the most rudimentary mental control, perhaps. But not him.

Who are you? December inquired.

Who you are

The other two King brothers were trembling before him. Their friends had deserted them. December had an arrow protruding from his shoulder... blue blood poured down his arm, but he didn't feel it.

"Run," said the December in his memory. "Run as far as you can... as fast as you can."

I said stop. December ordered. Ordered himself. I have no desire to relive-

Desire... his own thoughts interrupted. To Kill. It feels good. You want to hurt them. You want to punish them.

I already have.

Do it again.

Why? To what end?

Because you want it. Because you have ALWAYS wanted-

You will cease this madness now and you will identify yourself. I do not know how you gained entry to my mind, but-

I AM your mind!

If that were true, then you know what happens next just as well as you do. Reliving it is unnecessary for BOTH of us.

I know that we killed them. All of them. The men who hurt you... and the city that spawned them. I am the part of you that enjoyed it.

Then you are irrelevant.

I am the part of you that you ignore... the part you claim does not exist. This is where I live... in your memories This is what I do.... revel in the carnage that you pretend never happened.

I am not having a conversation with myself. You are an intruder-

Intruder. Yes. I intrude upon the lies you tell yourself. You are cold... you are without emotion. No hate. No pain. If that were true... then how do you explain this?

December's memories surged forward. Lonnik King was dead. His brothers, who went by the ridiculous names of 'Fist' and 'Scar', were running away. December could not chase them. He was wounded... but they would not escape his fury. There was no place they could hide from that.

The power of a goddess's curse... and the rage of a man who had done nothing wrong and yet lost everything he had ever loved.

December's fury emptied itself into the streets of that city, erasing that which had dared cause him pain. Concentric circles of frozen rage obliterated street after street... building after building...

...life after life.

December felt it all over again... muted through time, but still sharp enough to hurt.

"...no..." he mumbled. His voice so weak that it didn't even reach his own ears.

Did you enjoy that? The voice that claimed to be him asked.

no.

Liar. Do it again... look closer this time

The memories hiccuped backwards and started again. But this time, the emotions were stronger. December made a conscious effort NOT to react to what he was seeing...

No fair holding back... the voice in his head chided him. You want to hide? You want to pretend it didn't happen? The least you can do is look and see what it is you're denying...

Stop this, now!

Ugly, isn't it?

Again, December's power flared forth in a childish fit of god-like destruction. The anger slammed into December like a fist-

They had killed her! They had KILLED HER! THEY HAD BURNED HER ALIVE!!

December fought to contain himself... but his own thoughts and efforts were being corrupted. Part of him didn't WANT to contain it, and that part was fighting him. He was fighting himself!

Ignore the anger... ignore the hatred. Look deeper.. Do you see it? Do you see it there? The smile? The little spark of glee? You enjoyed it...

NO!!

Then we shall have to look again!

The flow of images stopped... reversed... started again...

December was kneeling in the street... his blackened wife dying in his arms. What had once been only mild curiosity flared into a pillar burning flame inside December's thoughts.

STOP! STOP! ST-

He was still fighting. Still trying NOT to feel what he felt that day. He clamped down on his emotions with all the force of his will.

...but an equal and opposite force pushed back. Resisting him. Interfering. It pushed harder. It was stronger...

Killed her. They have to pay...

They are DEAD!

They have to pay! And when you do it... when you get your hands on them, and the power begins to flow... how will it feel? How DID it FEEL!

Even as December struggled, the floodgates began to swing... open...

I felt nothing.

Liar!

December was there again... feeling exactly what he felt the first time. All of the fury; all of the hatred and the pain. All of it hit him at once, sparking a surge of power.

December scrambled for control, and caught hold of himself just as his fury had funneled itself into the beginnings of a scream-

"YOU-!"

The sound of ice crackling around him reached his ears, startling his eyes open-

At first he saw only the bright flash of the memory that was still playing in his mind. Even with his physical eyes open, he had to struggle to see what was beyond his own thoughts. Then... slowly... he realized that there was nothing to SEE.

Everything was dark. He was surrounded by an ominous total blackness that could only be either subterranean or some kind of magic.

His side hurt. As did his stomach, his chest, and his back. And his throat. He felt something crackle and break when he tried to move. Ice. Whatever was holding him was now frozen. He had inadvertently freed himself with a momentary lapse of control.

Unfortunately, he was too weak to take advantage of it. His muscles could barely contract, and even moving his head took a repeated effort. A haze of dizziness and confusion shifted across his thoughts.

He'd been drugged. December had enough awareness of his own body to realize that SOMETHING was in his system... something that did not belong. Given his recent 'dream', it most likely contained some kind of psychoactive agent. And a powerful muscle relaxant.

But for what purpose?

After a few seconds, the images in December's mind faded to a few intermittent flashes. Intermittent, yet still disturbing. He had no power to stop them, but at least now he had some control over his reactions. December untangled his drugged, knotted thoughts and turned his efforts to more productive ends: Discovery and Escape.

With significantly more effort than it usually took, December shifted the spectrum of his vision into the infrared. What was once total darkness became a dimly-lit haze filling a large, underground chamber... a chamber roughly the shape of a giant egg. With the exception of the area immediately around December, the chamber was warm and slightly damp. Root-like tendrils completely covered the walls and crisscrossed the open space like the strands of a giant spider web. And, like a spider capturing prey, the tendrils had 'woven' December into the wall in a tight cocoon of thick roots. Those roots... and everything else for a radius of several yards... were now frozen. Some of them were already cracking under December's considerable weight. All it would take is a little effort.

December flexed his arm and tried to move it. The attempt made him dizzy, but he did succeed in dislodging several large frozen chunks.

He examined what lay beneath them.

There were several... tubes... woven into the cocoon beneath the supporting roots. The hollow, slightly translucent appendages were attached to his body-

No. They were INSIDE his body... piercing his skin and protruding into the underlying flesh. Bundles of them riddled his chest, stomach, sides, neck, and back. All of them were frozen, bringing a halt to whatever purpose they had been serving before.

December removed one of the odd roots from his chest. It crumbled in his grasp, but not before he had managed to free the stinger-like tip from just below his ribcage. A fresh spurt of blue blood... HIS blood... followed the tip and drooled down his shredded shirt.

December expected the pain to help clear his mind, but it did the opposite. The jolt of the wound brought a surge of uncharacteristic anger... December's muscles clenched, and his fist crushed the stinger before he could examine it further.

The spasm also began a rapid succession of crackling and crunching from the roots around him as... one after another... they snapped. Gravity snatched December away from the wall, and he fell. The roots in his flesh either broke off or pulled away, sending a spiral pain through December's mind like a corkscrew burrowing into his thoughts.

The mat of roots at the bottom of the chamber rushed up to meet him. This was no illusion or hyperbole... the roots actually WERE rushing up toward him as he fell. December-

We're not done yet. The 'voice' blurted into December's mind.

"Wha-"

The roots encircled December and quickly pulled him down. December lowered his body temperature in an attempt to freeze them before-

A sharp pain pierced his neck at the base of his skull..

...and everything suddenly seemed a lot less important than it had been a second ago. A new set of hollow tendrils attached themselves to the fresh wounds left by their predecessors-

-and for some reason, December found all of it very amusing. There was a reason he found it amusing, but he couldn't remember what that reason was.

I said we're not done yet. I want to hear you say it.

Say... what...

Tsk, Tsk, Tsk. You've forgotten it all. Looks like I'll have to start all over again-

December watched with trembling, horrified eyes as the burnt husk of Jessica Chyrnomir gave up its final spark of life...

---

Cordelia was only mildly concerned with the lack of sun in the Bephal sky. The house needed sweeping, and the weather didn't really have any say-so in the matter. Still, she did cast a few concerned glances at the windows as she rounded up every speck of dirt from her floor and ushered them toward the front door with short, careful flicks of her broom. When she opened the door to escort the dust outside, she paused to take a better look.

The old woman squinted up at the sky.

"That's odd," she said to herself. The clouds overhead didn't look like storm clouds... but they didn't look like any OTHER kind of cloud, either. Cordelia didn't like the way they made the sky look. They shortened the horizon, almost like they had formed a gray dome over the city.

That was nonsense, of course. An optical illusion... her old eyes playing tricks on her.

But she got the oddest feeling that she'd seen it before. And the more she looked, the more that feeling became a certainty. She HAD seen this before...

...when?

"Cordelia! You have to help us!"

"Eh?" The old widow turned toward the frantic voice. She saw Francesca D'Arcy scurrying down the street as if hell was at her heels. Clutched in her arms was a bundle of bandages with a size, shape, and face that looked a lot like Francesca's son, Casey. Francesca looked terrified.

"PLEASE!" Francesca begged. "Help us!"

Cordelia...who's mind was not accustomed to changing gears so suddenly... gave Francesca a confused look that lasted just long enough for the woman and child to reach her doorstep.

"What happened!?" Cordelia gasped as she stepped aside to let them in. She looked back out at the street to see if anyone was following. There were people about... but none were paying any attention to Francesca. They were either looking up at the sky or going on about their own business. Cordelia gave the sky a quick glance, then slammed the door. Then... for no reason other than the look on Francesca's face... she locked it.

Francesca had already deposited her son to the kitchen table, where she was cradling his head and tugging on the bandages. Behind them, a large tabby cat paced nervously back and forth, hissing occasionally at Francesca's ankles. Mister was not too happy about the intrusion... nor was Cordelia pleased about that unwashed boy being on her freshly cleaned kitchen table. But she didn't say anything about it. After all... Francesca was a family friend, and this was obviously an emergency.

"What happened!?"

"It's father!"

"FLOYD did this!? I always knew he was-"

"No, no, Floyd didn't do it; but he's just as responsible. Help me with these... you have to look at him!"

Francesca was trying to undo the boy's bandages. Cordelia pushed her hands away and undid them herself... discovering that the boy wasn't nearly as hurt as he seemed. There were a few nasty bruises... very nasty... and a cut or two. Some minor burns. But his overprotective mother had bandaged him up as if he had a sucking chest wound. The boy was unconscious, though... and that was a concern.

"Smelling salts..." Cordelia waved one of the cabinets. "Over there somewhere..."

Francesca opened the cabinet and found several shelves packed with meticulously-arranged bottles. She started frantically searching for the one labeled 'smelling salts'

There was no such bottle. Cordelia was fully aware of that fact, but she wanted to get Francesca doing something 'useful' to calm her down.

"You can talk while you hunt, you know," said the old woman as she examined the boy. "How did this happen?"

"I'm not exactly sure," said Francesca. "But I know who did it and I know father is responsible! He brought... he brought those MONSTERS into our house, and one of them hurt poor Casey!"

"Monsters, ya say?" Cordelia was quickly checking Casey's limbs to see if any of them were broken.

"Yes, and I'm not being poetic... I mean REAL monsters!!!"

"I see."

"No, you don't see!" Francesca abandoned the cabinet and turned toward her. "Do... do you remember a few years ago when that 'jeweler' came to Bephal and bought Andrews's old shop?"

"Yes, the 'jeweler.' Hmph. He gave old man Trisk a fair run-"

"Well he's back. And he brought some people with him and some of them aren't human! Father let them stay with us... and Casey was ALREADY sick before then, but I'm SURE that December and his cronies had SOMETHING to do with it! And then-"

"Sick? Sick how?" Cordelia knew better than to put much stock into Francesca's ramblings... espescially when she was upset. In order to get anything coherent out of the girl you had to interrupt her as often as possible...

"Last night he started talking in his sleep and then he broke into a fever. Then he started saying strange things and hallucinating... well, I THOUGHT he was hallucinating, but it turns out-"

"Fever? You give him anything for it?"

"I- I- I- Listen to me! There were these GHOSTS and-"

"You take him to Gandrick?"

"Gandrick is DEAD!"

"WHAT!?"

"Well... he LOOKED dead, but he could have been alive... I don't know, but I think DORATH CHESTERSON killed him!"

Cordelia blinked... swallowed... and chose to completely ignore that last bit.

"Gandrick's hurt, you say?"

"YES! TERRIBLY! The archer brought him in, and I think he saved Casey so I guess they might not ALL be bad, but the one called N'Doki is a BEAST! I mean, an ACTUAL BEAST!!!"

"I see."

"I'm not making this up! You've got to belive me! When the spirits were talking to Casey they said to beware the man with no mouth... MAN WITH NO MOUTH! Do you know what that MEANS!?!?"

"You need to calm down, dear... try and find those smelling salts, I need them for Casey. Hurry..."

Francesca spun around and thrust her arms into the cabinet... scattering Cordelia's careful arrangement of cooking spices.

"-And then he actually CAME! Dorath Chesterson CAME TO THE HOUSE! And he was DEAD!!!!!! Those men fought him, but he got in and... December and that THING tried to help us then, but later on he TURNED on us!!!! He made me look into his eyes and I saw things! THEY WERE HORRIBLE!!! There were all these people and they were dead but they were STILL SCREAMING!!!"

"Shhhhh... hush, Francesca. Just calm yourself and relax. I don't think Casey is hurt all that badly here. He's got some bruises, but nothing is broken. He's still got a fever, feels like..."

"OH CORDELIA, I CAN'T FIND THE SMELLING SALTS!!!" Francesca screamed. Her scream was so loud that it sent Mister scampering into the other room...

...and it woke Casey up.

"Mama?" the boy whispered. "I'm hot."

"Casey!" Francesca looked like she was going to pick him up and crush him to death right there in Cordelia's kitchen. To avoid that unpleasant mess, Cordelia 'innocently' stepped in front of Francesca, pretending not to see her as she felt Casey's forehead and looked into his ears.

The boy's ears were terribly dirty.

"Shhh, Casey... do you know where you are?"

"Auntie Cord?"

"Yes," she answered with a slight hiss. Cordelia HATED being called 'Cord'.... which was why Floyd D'Arcy intentionally taught Casey to call her that.

"Mama's here, Casey!" Francesca chirped.

"Mama, why am I so hot?"

"Ahem...." Cordelia turned to Francesca. "Can I trust you not to smother the boy while I fetch something for the fever?"

"huh?"

"I'll take that as a yes." Cordelia left the kitchen... and returned a minute later with a small bottle of white powder. Mister followed her in, apparently fascinated by the stray threads on Cordelia's shoes. The white powder was an extract from a tree bark... it was both a painkiller and a fever reducer... two properties that Casey was in need of.

"Open your mouth."

Casey opened his mouth. Cordelia poured a bit the powder onto his tongue, then gave him some water to wash it down.

Francesca was talking continuously the entire time. Cordelia heard everything she said... and promptly ignored most of it.

"We'll be needing some more water to clean him up. Go to the well and fetch some-"

"There IS no well! I think the monster under the ground must have smashed it! There was blood... I think it ATE someone!

That was too much. Francesca was prone to imagining and 'misunderstanding' things... but this...

Cordelia went to another cabinet and retrieved a large glass jar of a clear liquid. She removed the top and handed it to Francesca.

"Drink this."

"What is it?"

"Nerve tonic. Drink it..."

"But I-"

"Drink. As much as you can."

Francesca nodded and drank half the jar.

The 'tonic' tasted like peach syrup... a special family recipe that Cordelia brewed in her private distillery out in the woods. Diluted with water, it made the most wonderful fruit-flavored brandy. Taken full strength... like Francesca just did...

The woman would be unconscious in ten minutes.

THAT would put an end to all the nonsense about ghosts, monsters and zombies. Cordelia would find out what really happened some other time.

"Ohh, now I feel hot!" Francesca swooned.

"Have a seat." Cordelia pointed to one of the chairs. Francesca sat down, licked her lips, and drank a little more of the 'tonic'.

"Thaaaat's enough, dear," Cordelia took the jar and placed it back in the cabinet.

"Mama, what happened? Where's grandpa?"

"I told him I wazn't going to set foot in that house as long as those people were still there," Francesca droned on... talking much more slowly now. "And I ran... all the way here. I had to run because... mmmmmm... Dorath and that other thing were still out there...mmmhmmm...
and I didn't want them to catch me! It wants Casey, I think. I don't know...uhhh... why. But the ghosts... the ghosts... they know. They know everything. Tell her, Casey..."

Casey looked up at Cordelia.

"Auntie Cord?"

Cordelia winced.

"You wanna tell me what happened, Casey? Hmmm?"

"They said I'm not supposed to tell."

"Who?"

"All the people."

"What people would those be, Casey?"

"DEAD PEOPLE!" Francesca blurted. "Right?"

Casey nodded.

"That's right..." Francesca's voice slowed to a dragging, slurred mumble. She leaned over to one side and nearly fell out of her chair. "you tell her... I'm gonna... take... a nap..."

"They told me all kinds of things," the boy said slowly. "Stuff that happened a long time ago. They kept talking about poison.... but I didn't understand. Then they said that the bad men were coming back."

"What bad men would those be?" said Cordelia.

Casey swallowed. He squirmed uncomfortably on the table.

"Casey? What bad men were coming back?"

Casey looked up at her. The expression on his face looked a lot like Francesca's before the 'tonic' took hold...

"...all of them."

---

Thane's first attempt at leaving ended with him on the floor, grabbing his foot and howling a string of profanities after having popped the fresh stitches in his ankle.

The string of profanities ended in-

"-OUCH!"

-after which, Thane crawled back to his chair and pulled the bandages off so that he could re-dress the wounds that the Disciple had given him. That took several minutes... and several more strips of Floyd D'Arcy's prized tablecloth.

"...mmmmmm..."

The sound reached Thane's ears, and he froze. The LAST time he heard that sound-

"....mmmm..."

But it wasn't the Disciple. It was the doctor. Gandrick was either awake, or he was close enough to consciousness to feel the pain of his shredded face.

"Easy now," said Thane. Gandrick was on the floor in front of his chair... so close that Thane could have propped his feet up on the old man's chest if he'd wanted to. "I wouldn't scream if I were you. You think it hurts NOW... you give a good holler and this'll feel like-"

"...help..."

"You've been helped already," said Thane.

"... Floyd saw them.... she said..."

"Talking might be a real bad idea, too, ya know?"

"...he didn't understand... poison... I was there..."

"Are you even awake, old man? Hello?"

"...listen..."

"Ahhh, you ARE awake. Okay, then you listen to me. I ain't no healer and as soon as I wrap my feet up a little tighter I'm gonna be outta here... so if you keep talking and mess yourself up, there's gonna be nobody around to-"

"...fool... listen..."

"Oh, so you want me to knock you unconscious again, is that it?"

"...they... didn't see me. The three of them. Trisk. Groad. Fanning. not evil. Not yet. I saw them... kill it..."

"Kill what? Are you trying to say something about what's going on here?"

"...yes..."

"That Groad guy who's grave we dug up. He killed something?"

"...others... I... was there... I saw... I heard..."

Gandrick tried to sit up, but Thane pushed him back down. The old man was getting excited, and he'd already reopened a few of Hemingway's stitches just from whispering.

"Look, just save it, okay? I'm telling you... if you start bleeding again, I'm not the guy that can stitch you back together. You're going to DIE if you keep talking!"

"...important..."

"More important than you not bleeding to death?"

"Yes."

Thane could see the old man's eyes through tiny window that Hemingway had left in the bandages. Those eyes were wide open, and clearly focused. Gandrick was awake... he had all of his faculties.

He knew exactly what he was doing.

"Okay. Talk."

"...saw... thing... in the ground. Under... under..."

"Monster under the city. We figured that part out already."

"...trisk and the others.... killed..."

"It killed them?"

"No."

"They killed IT?"

"...yes..."

"Well they didn't do a good enough job, because guess what? It's back."

"...same creature... can't... can't kill it... blood..."

"You're losing me."

"...I saw... how... I heard... why..."

Gandrick's eyes were loosing focus. And even worse, fresh blossoms of blood were beginning to spread across his bandages.

"Do you know what this thing is?"

"...not what... why... I know... why... mistake... she... she said..."

"She who?"

Gandrick's body stiffened in a massive spasm.

"Hey! Old man! Come back, now... you're killing yourself to tell me this, so the least you can do is FINISH!"

"...she... alive... years before... plague..."

"I don't know anything about a plague.

"...caught... Floyd saw... but... he didn't...know..."

"Floyd? The old man, Floyd? Guy that owns this house? You saying that HE knows something?"

The bandages made from D'Arcy's white tablecloth were now completely red. Blood was trickling down the old man's neck. Gandrick closed his eyes, and Thane thought the old man was dead.

But he was just gathering his strength.

When Gandrick spoke again, his voice was stronger... and Thane heard the delicate stitches ripping out of the old man's flesh as he pronounced-

"POISON!"

"Hey! Calm down, you're gonna-"

"P-poison... underground... she put it there. Punish... punish us. Trisk killed it! But now... its back... don't know how... kill it again... need... need...unnngh..."

"Not now-!"

"...bl...blood... need... blood..."

"This thing EATS people it's gotta have blood all OVER it already! So-"

"...her blood... only way... only... way..."

"WHO'S blood!?!"

Gandrick didn't say anything else. He couldn't say anything else. Ever.

"Old man? No, you can't be dead... you didn't finish! Dammit, you didn't FINISH! I don't know what you were saying! WAKE UP!"

The last of the air in Gandrick's lungs exited his mouth in a long... wordless sigh.

---

Cordelia sat down and took another quick sip of her own nerve tonic.

For the last twenty minutes, Casey D'Arcy had been reciting bits and pieces of what 'the spirits' had told him. Cordelia was more than willing to pass the whole thing off to a fever-induced delusion, magnified by suggestions from Casey's over-imaginative mother...

...but the things the boy was saying...

They were all true. It was as if he were reading from a history book about Bephal's past... only there WAS no such book. There was no way he could know some of the things he was saying. No way he could know the names of families who lost children in the plague. No way he could know what happened to Jerimiah Trisk's parents. No way in HELL he could know about Cordelia's own affair with Berston Groad, or how Dorath Chesterson's father got the burn-mark on his scalp, OR the exact size and shape of the blade that old man Hannery's wife used to commit suicide...

He couldn't know any of that. But he did.

And so Cordelia had another sip of tonic.

"You want me to tell you more, Auntie Cord?" said Casey.

"No, that's quite all right," said Cordelia. Francesca was snoring loudly in the chair beside her. "I've heard enough."

"Do you know what it means?" said Casey. "They tell me things, but I don't understand what any of it means."

"It means... it means..."

Cordelia took another drink. The old woman was not drunk... but she wished she was.

"...it means that maybe we need to take a little trip. Away from this town. You, your mother, and me."

"Where?"

"I don't know yet. Montfort, maybe. Someone there can surely make sense of it. If not, then there're the Rune Missionaries to the east-"

Cordelia heard the beginnings of a sound... and the END of a sound... but the sound itself was too loud and too sudden to register. What little she did hear was enough to get her out of her chair and-

-if someone were breaking down the back door, why would she be running TOWARD the sound and not away from it? It occurred to Cordelia that she wasn't being very smart... so instead, she shoved Francesca hard enough to wake her and then grabbed Casey from the kitchen table.

"-huh?" Francesca muttered. Her eyes were bloodshot and incapable of focussing on anything for more than a second or two.

"OUT!" Cordelia shouted as she dashed for the front door. She wanted to pull Francesca behind her, but she was already carrying the boy and there was only so much that an old woman can do at once... "HURRY!"

"...what's going-"

Cordelia reached the front door just as it flew open... the lock knocked off by a large, large, LARGE man holding a hammer that he must have stolen from some giant somewhere.

"AAAAAAA!" Casey and Cordelia screamed into each other's faces. Cordelia carried the boy back past Francesca... who was only now managing to get to her feet... and into the living room, where she was greeted by a midget and a red-haired man with a sword.

"IT'S THEM!!!" Francesca shouted from the kitchen. Cordelia spun and-

-Casey vanished from her grasp... snatched away by the huge man with the hammer.

"LET ME GO! LET ME-" The man placed his hand over the boy's mouth.

"If you bite my hand, I will be very unhappy with you. Understand?"

Casey nodded.

Cordelia kicked the man in the leg, but her old foot lacked the strength to even get his attention. Perhaps if she kicked higher...

Mister... the cat... had taken refuge on top of one of the kitchen cabinet. He chose that moment to exhibit the very un-feline behavior of leaping down and protecting his owner. Fangs bared, claws extended... Mister shot toward the large man's face.

The midget... who was perhaps not a real midget, just a normal man of unfortunate stature... made quick motion with his hand. Something zipped past Cordelia-

TWHOCK!

-And struck the side of Mister's skull. The cat... now slightly bloody and very dead... hit the large man's shoulder and slid to the floor with a final 'thump'. There was a small dagger protruding from Mister's head, just above his jaw.

"MISTER!" Cordelia cried.

"GIVE ME MY BOY!" Francesca was still very drunk... which made her shout of outrage sound more like: "GIMM-BOY!" She promptly tripped over her own feet and narrowly avoided the sharp edge of the kitchen table on her way to the floor.

Once there, she grabbed the large man's boot and tried to wrestle it from his foot.

"WHO ARE YOU PEOPLE!" Said Cordelia.

"Back in the kitchen and sit down," said the man with the swords. He advanced menacingly. Cordelia stood her ground. "I DEMAND-"

"You remind me of my mother," said the short man, who was balancing another dagger on the tip of one finger. He sneered evilly at her. "Ohhhhh... how I hated my mother..."

The short man was undoubtedly disturbed.

The man with the swords pushed Cordelia back into the kitchen... and then rudely kicked her feet out from under her, forcing her to fall into the nearest chair. He then grabbed Francesca and seated her as well.

"Well," said the man with the swords. "We have successfully subdued two drunk women, a house cat, and a small boy. Oh, how very proud I am."

"WHO ARE YOU!"

"You are now in the protective custody of the Night's Bloom," said the short man with the knife. "We have a sniper on the roof, and he has orders to put an arrow up the arse of the first unescorted person to step outside. If you get past HIM, then... well... you won't get past him."

"See... I dold you I wazn't making it up..." said Francesca. "They're goink to take us back to that THING!"

"Which thing would that be?" said the short man. "There are too many things running round this town... be specific."

"De ting dat talg lig dis!" said Francesca.

"Ohhhh. Heh, she does that pretty good! You know... you're cute when you're drunk..."

"We're not taking you anywhere," said the swordsman. "We're all going to sit right here and we're going to wait."

"For what?" said Cordelia.

"Would you be so kind as to put my grandson down!" said Floyd D'Arcy, who had been waiting outside until all the action settled down. Now, he joined the others in the kitchen.

"FLOYD, HOW DARE YOU GET MIXED UP IN-"

"Oh, hush, you old bat! Nobody got hurt!"

"They killed MISTER!"

"Eh?" Floyd saw the cat's corpse. "Never liked that cat anyway. Now would you put Casey down?"

The large man lowered Casey to the floor.

Casey immediately turned around and punched him in the crotch.

"AAaawwwww... that's just great. Why'd you have to hit ME, kid? I'm the NICE one! Dammit!"

Casey ran to his grandfather, who caught him before he could scamper out the front door.

"Is it safe for us to stay here?" said Floyd.

"We're not looking for safety," said the swordsman. "That thing is coming and we wanna be here when it arrives."

"Yes, but do WE have to be here?" said Floyd.

"You don't. But it's coming after the boy... sending him away would just defeat the purpose."

"Then I'm staying," said Floyd. "Are you REALLY sure you can kill it?"

"If N'Doki decides to help us out... maybe we have a chance."

"That means," said the short man. "That we're probably all going to die."

---

Gallows was on the roof... but not the same roof. The archer had taken position atop a taller, sturdier building across the street. From there, he could see Cordelia's house as well as every other building for at least a block. His posision did leave a blind spot in the rear of the house, but watching THAT was someone else's job.

Once settled, Gallows emptied his quiver of missiles onto the rooftop, spreading the bolts and arrows in an array beside him. He had precious few left. Any arrows of any significant magic had been used long ago... now he was left with baptism arrows, phantom arrows, and a paltry assortment of other tricks, none of which would be any good should the Disciple or its subterranean master show up.

But the archer was not *completely* out of surprises. Gallows took up one arrow adn held it in his hand as he watched the buildings around him.

There were people in the streets. Some were gathered around the remains of the well, which Gallows could barely see from his vantage point. Another group was wandering nervously around a group of houses. They were confused. Afraid. Gallows could read their emotions clearly, and he concluded that they were probably trying to figure out what happened to the occupants of the houses they circled. Perhaps they found a large hole in the floor when they went in. Perhaps they found nothing at all.

Gallows turned away from them and scanned the street in the opposite direction. A small boy was running from house to house in a very excited fashion. Delivering news of the strange disappearances, no doubt. He was headed away from Gallows, so the archer ignored him.

Gallows leaned back on his heels and frowned.

"Too many people," he said. "I don't think its going to show; it doesn't like crowds."

"It will come," N'Doki replied. N'Doki was standing beside Gallows on the roof. He had not been there a second ago, but he had appeared suddenly just before Gallows spoke.

"We're just supposed to trust you?"

"Yes."

"Like we're trusting you to watch the back of the house? Which you can't do from here, by the way..."

"Not necessary," the necromancer replied. "De creature's harbinger approaches from dere-"

N'Doki pointed. Gallows could not see N'Doki's hand, but his gaze still shifted to the indicated direction. There was nothing to see.

"We will haf to force de creature itself to appear."

Gallows wanted to ask how N'Doki planned to do that... but he knew without looking that the necromancer had vanished.

Not completely trusting N'Doki's warning, Gallows waited until his own sensed confirmed the necromancer's warning. He felt it a minute later... like a sunrise warming the side of his face. Only instead of heat, it was boiling, concentrated hatred.

"Yup," said Gallows. He raised the arrow that he'd been holding and spoke into the tip. "Undead sighted. No sign of target."

Gallows notched the arrow and then fired it at the kitchen window of Cordelia's house.

Just as the glass shattered, the Disciple bounded over a rooftop two houses over and began to glide eastward, toward the Night's Bloom.

Gallows gathered his remaining arrows and stepped gingerly from the rooftop, letting his cape turn his descent into a gentle downward glide.

---

"-so what's to keep this thing from just swallowing the house and us along with it?"

"Nothing," said Hars. "With Gallows and N'Doki on watch we'll have advanced warning... maybe enough time to get out, depending on how fast this thing works."

"Maybe!?!"

"Like I said, Mr. D'Arcy... if you want to go, just go."

"I'm just looking out for the best interests of my grandson."

"If THAT were true," said Cordelia, "You would never have mixed up with these ruffians in the FIRST place!"

"Ruffians?" Emerson smiled. "Madam, I am a lover... not a fighter."

"These people have done nothing but help us since they arrived!"

"Just like they're helping us now by using us as BAIT?" Cordelia snapped.

"We're not using YOU as bait," said Emerson. "Just the boy. Honestly, what kind of monster do you expect we'd catch if we used YOU, eh!?"

Suddenly, the kitchen window shattered as an arrow passed through it on the way to the kitchen table-

THWOCK!

It sank into the wood about one foot away Cordelia's shoulder.

Cordelia yelped... and the arrow spoke:

"Undead sighted. No sign of the target."

"Undead?" said Floyd.

"Oh, not HIM again!" said Emerson. "I thought we were after the BIG one!"

"Grandpa!" Chase D'Arcy had been sitting in Cordelia's lap, but the announcement of impending attack sent him fleeing into his grandfather's arms once again. "Grandpa, he's back!"

"I know," said Floyd. "These men won't let the bad man get you-"

"No, not the BAD man! The OTHER man!"

"Eh?"

"What's that kid talking about?" said Hars. "What other man?"

"The OTHER man! He's BACK and he...he...."

Casey went limp, and began to drool from the corner of his mouth.

"Oh, no..."

"What'd you do to him!" Cordelia rose from her chair just as something hit the roof with a loud:

KA-THUMP!

"We're not really going to fight this thing AGAIN, are we?" said Emerson.

"I fought it last time," said Hemingway. "you two go right ahead."

"Well, if you insist-"

A section of the ceiling directly above them peeled back from the rafters, and the Disciple's rotting face appeared briefly in the opening. The creature leaned forward to drop into the kitchen, several shadowy forms converged on it... grabbed it around the arms and shoulders... and promptly hauled it away with such force that the Disciple's right arm ripped out of its socket and fell onto the kitchen table with a loud PLOP.

Cordelia screamed.

Floyd screamed.

Francesca woke up and screamed.

The fingers of the severed arm began to 'crawl' across the table, dragging the rest of the appendage along with it like an oversized tail.

"...Pardon me-" said Hemingway as his hammer came down-

WHAM!!!

The single blow demolished the table and turned the crawling hand into a paste of maggots, bone shards, and pulped flesh held together by rusty wire. The mess began to ooze toward the door...

"OUCH!" Floyd shouted. The old man dropped Casey and clapped both hands to his face. "AAAA!

Casey hit the floor sprinted out the front door.

"Dammit you were supposed to hold him!" Hars shouted.

"HE BURNED ME!" Floyd repeated. A large red patch was beginning to peak out from the edges of his hands. "The little bastard BURNED me!"

"Hemingway, get him!"

Hemingway ran after Casey...

---

"That's not going to work," said Gallows. He and N'Doki were standing before a miniature tornado that was flinging bits and pieces of the Disciple into the street around them.

Amazingly, none of the pieces actually HIT either of them, but the crowd that had began to gather at the Disciple's first appearance quickly dispersed once the splattering began.

"I know," said N'Doki. "De creature cannot die until its master is destroyed. I am merely entertaining myself."

"You know it doesn't feel pain, right?"

"Hmmmm..." With a lazy wave of his hand, N'Doki banished the whirlwind, dropping a pile of stripped bones into the street. There was not an inch of flesh left on them, but that did not prevent them from immediately re-assembling themselves like pieces of a puzzle. All over the street, the scattered shreds of flesh pulled together into larger chunks... which then rolled, dragged, skipped, and bounced back toward the pile of bones.

Gallows skewered the largest piece with a shot from one of his miniature crossbows, impaling the chunk of flesh and pinning it to the ground. That stopped its progress for a few seconds, but it quickly pulled itself free and rolled along to rejoin the others.

The front door to Cordelia's house flew open. Casey D'Arcy raced out into the street, followed by Hemingway Shaw... and an unnoticed slab of flesh roughly the size and shape of a human arm.

"WAIT!" Hemingway called.

Casey spotted the heap of flesh that would seen be the Disciple... then he spotted N'Doki, who was smiling wickedly at him.

The boy stopped running.

"FOOLS!" he shouted.

"I got him-"

Hemingway Shaw's attempt to grab the boy was cut short when Casey spun suddenly and launched a finger-thin bolt of orange fire over Hemingway's left shoulder.

"-Whoa!" Hemingway skidded to a halt and ducked under the warning shot.

"Trissssk," N'Doki hissed, approaching the boy. Behind him, Gallow's black cape billowed outward, and the assassin rose into the air. "Returned for anodder lesson in power, have you?"

"Do any of ANY idea what you are doing!?" Trisk's voice bellowed from the small child's throat. "Your meddling with DESTROY this town!"

"N'Doki knows exactly what he does... and why. It is YOUR presence here that will bring ruin... to you!"

"I don't think so." Gallows descended directly between N'Doki and the child, and hovered four feet from the ground with a loaded crossbow in each hand. "We've done this before... no need to repeat it."

"-and speaking of things we've done before!"

Hemingway Shaw's hammer flew toward... and past... Gallows' head, continuing on to strike the newly-risen Disciple in the shoulder just as it leapt for Casey. The Disciple flipped end-over-end and landed in a skidding roll that brought it to its feet once more.

"Enough!" Casey thrust both hands at the Disciple... however, instead of a fireball, the gesture produced a shower of multicolored sparks that circled the Disciple's head. "You waste time on PUPPETS when there are GREATER issues at stake!"

The Disciple froze.

"You mean," Hemingway said incredulously. "All this fighting, and all we had to do was throw GLITTER at it!?!"

"I've freed his mind from the other's influence. He is no longer under its control-"

"I'm not feeling any change here," said Gallows. "Are you sure?"

Without warning, the Disciple sprang past Casey and began running for the front door of Cordelia's house.

"Certain," said Casey.

---

"Stop your whinin, you'll live," said Hars. He concluded his examination of Floyd's burns with a light slap on the man's reddened cheek.

"OUCH!"

"So why didn't you tell us the kid could work magic?" said Emerson.

"Because he CAN'T! I don't know where that came from any more than you do! And what's TAKING so long!? I'm going out there-"

"Suit yourself," said Emerson.

Floyd D'Arcy opened the door...

...and saw the Disciple galloping straight toward him like a beast loosened from hell's deepest canyons.

"mmmMMMMMMMM!"

With the exception of his burnt cheek, every ounce of color drained out of Floyd's face. His gasp of surprise came out as a girlish whimper.... followed immediately by:

SLAM!

Floyd shut the door and turned to run, but the Disciple's rage was not go ing to be dissuaded by something as mundane as a closed door. The impact completely dislodged the door and sent it flying into the kitchen... where it would have surely struck and killed Floyd had Emerson not yanked the old man out of the way at the last moment.

The Disciple paused in the doorway and scanned the room with empty eyes. It found Floyd D'Arcy cowering at Emerson's feet.

"It's come to kill me! It's come to kill me!"

"MMMMMM!"

With a muffled roar of malevolent hatred, the Disciple charged-

-and was thrown back by Harrison Blackshear, who plunged one sword into the beast's chest and slashed the other across its throat, nearly severing its head. Hars's momentum carried them both back out into the street, where Hars yanked both blades free and began a series of double-slashes across the beast's chest... slicing away ribbons of flesh with every cut. His intention was to keep the Disciple busy until help arrived...

...but there would be no help, because at that exact moment, the ground began to shake.

"IT'S COMING!" Gallows warned as he floated upward, scanning the ground for the exact point of emergence.

"EVERYONE SCATTER!" Hars shouted. "N'DOKI, YOU TAKE THIS THING OUT WHEN IT SURFACES!"

"We may have a slight problem with that plan..." Gallows shouted back.

N'Doki was gone.
---

Reynaldo Worth was a wealthy man. Not wealthy in an intangible 'family' sense, or wealthy in the connotation of 'freedom' or 'comfort.' Mr. Worth had no family, and he was neither free nor comfortable. But he was rich. And that was the next best thing.

Money could buy a lot of things that 'free' or 'comfortable' men could not afford... such as hot baths of purified mineral water for his aching, ancient bones. Silken clothing for his wrinkled pock-marked skin. Medical enchantments to restore flexibility to arthritic joints. Even a wig of thick black hair to replace the thinning gray wisps that had fallen out years ago.

Yes, money was good.

Reynaldo was thinking those very words as he sank lower into the copper tub, letting the warm water overtake his drooping shoulders and lap at his flabby neck. Money... was good.

When the chamber door opened unexpectedly, Reynaldo sat up and squinted at the approaching figure. It was not a servant... because Reynaldo had no servants. Guards, yes... but not servants.

"Who... oh." Reynaldo's questioning gasp fell away when he felt the cold air brushing across his exposed skin. He smiled.

"...hello there, old friend," he said, sinking into the tub again... but not quite as low as before. "Excuse me for not getting up-"

"I would appreciate it if you did not," December replied.

Reynaldo chuckled.

"The years have not been kind, have they?"

"Kind, no," said December. "But kindness and profit are often mutually exclusive."

Reynaldo nodded. December carried a large silken bag with him, and he placed it gently on the floor at the foot of Reynaldo's tub. The bag was not empty, but Reynaldo couldn't see what large, lumpy objects were responsible for its odd shape.

"What have you got there?"

"Questions," December said curtly.

Reynaldo squirmed in the tub. It was a squirm of nervousness, which he covered with a smile.

"Your message didn't say why you were coming," Reynaldo. "I take it this is has something to do with business?"

"Business is all there is," said December. He moved away from the silk bag and began slowly circling the tub.

Reynaldo hated when he did that. That slow, sinister walk. Circling like a predator. December did it all the time. In meetings. At parties. It was damned annoying.

Reynaldo's smile widened.

"You haven't changed, old friend. Always business."

"Are you aware that the output of the mines has increased by 23% in the past quarter?"

"Heh, yes," Reynaldo chuckled. "I do RUN the mines, after all. We struck a new vein, remember?"

"Then you are also aware that the increased production... and higher quality of the diamonds mined... corresponds to a 37 percent increase in profit."

"Of course. What is this... a quiz? I know the figures just as well as-"

"Would you like to know how I came to possess those figures?"

"I sent them to you," said Reynaldo. "In my last report."

"Indeed you did. I received that report 14 days ago. I received it three days AFTER one of my operatives obtained those SAME figures from a hidden vault in the office of the royal tax collector."

Reynaldo didn't have to pretend to look surprised. He WAS surprised. The shock on his face was completely genuine.

"-how?"

"I have been under investigation for quite some time. This is not news to me. Nor is it a matter of serious concern. However... secret meetings between the treasurer, prosecuter, and certain other royal officials ARE a concern. Espescially when private financial data... SECRET data... are the topics of discussion at those meetings. After assessment and..."

December stopped walking. His hand... hard and cold as ice... appeared on Reynaldo's shoulder.

"...interrogation, I have concluded that there is a leak in my organization. A traitor."

"Thats... that's serious...."

"Very serious, Reynaldo. So serious that I had no choice but to investigate further."

"Uhhh... further how?"

"Further up the mountain, in the untapped mines. Would you like to know what my operatives found there?"

"Lots of gems? We know what's there-"

"Workmen."

"What!? But those are OUR mines-"

"Workmen laboring under the supervision of men who... when 'questioned'... gladly gave up the name of their employer... the Royal Treasurer. They were under the impression that HE owned the mines."

"Wh-why would he tell them that?"

"Because he was ALSO under the impression that he owned them. Or that he WOULD once the royal courts prosecuted me for tax evasion with the evidence you provided."

"Wha- ME!?! I Didn't-"

"Before you lie, Reynaldo, think about who you are talking to."

December removed his hand from Reynaldo's shoulder and walked around to the side of the tub. His back was to Reynaldo.

"I am not a fool. Nor am I a man who deals in assumptions and accusations. If I say a thing is so... I already know for a fact that it is. I know that authorities have been trying for years to find proof of my involvement in illicit operations. I know that they have failed in their endeavors... and that they have now turned their attention to my LEGAL activities. Finding no crimes or violations there, they have now sought to CREATE one. In this particular kingdom, avoidance of taxes is punishable by the immediate seizure of any and all property."

"But why would I-"

"Because you have nothing to loose."

December reached into his pocket. When he removed his hand, his fingers were curled into a fist around several small rubies, a few sapphires, and one very large diamond.

He dropped them all into Reynaldo's tub.

"A random selection from the private stash that you have been diverting from the mines. You have been have been doing so... in small amounts... for years. You have amassed quite a fortune... more than you can spend in several lifetimes. The fact that you are part owner of these mines only further illustrates your duplicity... you are so corrupt that you will even steal from yourself. Even now, after so many years, I still cannot comprehend it."

"You... you knew?"

"I knew of it all from the beginning, but I allowed you to continue because..."

December paused. Reynaldo said nothing.

Finally, December turned around to face him.

"You are like a brother to me, Reynaldo."

"Like a brother!? I AM your brother!" Reynaldo stood up in the tub. You and me... we STARTED this thing! TOGETHER! You and ME!"

"Sit. Down."

Reynaldo slowly lowered his wrinkled hide back into the water. He was trembling.

"I... I..."

"You are the brother of the woman I once called wife. Other than my own memories... you are the only link to her that I have left. I am not a sentimental man, Reynaldo."

"December... I'm sorry... I'm-"

"I would excuse a man who stole from me... if that man were you."

"They... they didn't say anything about the untapped mines, I was gonna keep those a secret so that we could start over-"

"I would excuse a man's betrayal.... if that man were you."

"Listen to me, they couldn't have taken everything. You and I both know you've got MILLIONS hidden all over-"

"But theft AND betrayal... from the SAME man? Reynaldo... this, is too much."

"I'm SORRY, OKAY! PLEASE hear me out!"

"You have not felt a wound this deep since the day Jessica died."

"And what about ME, eh? How do you think I feel?! I mean... I mean LOOK at you! Do you know how long its been since then? FIFTY YEARS! My GODS its been FIFTY YEARS, and you haven't aged a DAY! Every year you get... stronger and... bigger and... richer! And look at ME! I'm just a LACKEY! Even when Jessica was alive, I was just some guy you let HANG AROUND! And then I find the map... that's right... ME! MY MAP! And what happens? I STILL end up working for YOU! But that didn't matter... you're my FRIEND! My BROTHER! Hell... the stuff you've been through and survived, I thought... maybe... maybe I could do a little something for myself and not hurt you all that much. So you get slapped for tax evasion- BIG DEAL! They'd never put you in a dungeon; at least not one that would ever HOLD you! And they'd never seize even a FRACTION of what you've got! But if I gave them the mines, I figured I could get out of this HOLE you've kept me in for the last FIVE DECADES and maybe die somewhere.... somewhere... comfortable. And free."

"Free?" Said December. "Comfortable?"

December reached down and picked up the silk bag. He upended it over Reynaldo's bathwater...

...and two severed human heads splashed into the tub by Reynaldo's feet.

"AAAAAAA!!!!"

"Are you comfortable now, Reynaldo?"

"MY GODS!"

"Are you comfortable with your new friends: the royal treasurer and the chief investigator?"

"You KILLED them!!!"

"No," said December. "I HAD them killed. They were not worthy of my time and attention."

December sat down on the edge of the tub.

"But you... brother..."

"December, please, I didn't mean to hurt you..." Tears of terror and regret rolled down Reynaldo's face. The water... already red with blood... was beginning to churn into a pink froth from the terrified man's trembling. "I didn't. I swear, I didn't. Please... if you don't believe anything I say, PLEASE believe that!"

"I do believe it, Reynaldo."

"They could never have hurt you! Y-you're too BIG for the likes of them! All they wanted was the mines... if I thought they would be REAL trouble for you I would have never... D-December?"

December had lowered his head, and was shaking it slowly from side to side. Reynaldo couldn't see December's eyes... but it looked for all the world as if the man were crying.

"December?"

"You did not intend to hurt me," said December.

"Never..." Reynaldo leaned forward and grabbed December's wrist. "Brothers. Always. I never-"

"But you did."

December snatched his hand away and thrust it into the water. A single bolt of raw power... raw passion... exploded outward through the clenched fist, freezing the bloody water into a solid block. Reynaldo did not freeze; the expanding ice crushed him where he sat. The bones of his legs... hips... spine... and ribs shattered as the ice closed in around them like an iron vice. Ice squeezed the air from his lungs and then crushed his chest, sending a stream of bloody mucous exploding up through his throat.

Reynaldo's mouth briefly formed a large "O" of shock... as his eyes squeezed shut against the pain... and opened again to behold December in the rapidly fading light.

There was one last bit of air trapped in Reynaldo's throat.... he coughed it up in two syllables that formed the last words he ever heard... or spoke...

"...bro...thers..."

He never saw December close his eyes. Never felt the temperature in the room begin to fall even further.... never heard the sound in December's throat... beginning as a growl but ended in the billowing roar of

"WHY!!!!"

The copper tub grew brittle in the cold; its legs gave way, and the tub fell the short distance to the tile floor. When it hit, the tub... the ice... and the tile shattered. December pulled his own crushed hand out of the ice and stood... throwing both arms out to either side and shouting at the high, vaulted ceiling...

"WHHYYYYYYYY!!!"

Frost-covered beams in the ceiling began to snap. Cracks split the glass in the windows, and even the walls groaned in protest at the sub-arctic onslaught. Bits of frozen tile popped out of place in an ever-widening wave radiating from December's feet.

But the cracking and crackling and popping held no answers to December's protest. They held no answers... but perhaps they were an answer in themselves...

December looked up at the heavy beams of the ceiling above him. Soaked with steam from Reynaldo's final bath... they were now being split apart from the ice expanding within them-

CRACK!

They would fall at any moment.

CRACK!

If he stood here... underneath them...

CRRRRRAAA-AAACK!

"....massster?"

The tiny voice came from a figure crouched in the doorway. J'Hasp's gleaming, animal eyes glanced nervously from December to the ceiling... and then back to December again.

"Masster hurt?"

December looked at his only remaining friend. If THIS one betrayed him, then it really WOULD be the end.

CRACK!

...but not until then.

"J'Hasp help?"

"No," said December. "We are leaving." December started walking... toward J'Hasp, and then past him and into the hallway. The creature turned and followed obediently.

Behind them, the bathing chamber collapsed in on itself, burying the frozen remains of Reynaldo Worth... and perhaps something else as well.

December couldn't feel himself trembling as the scene played out... but he knew that he was. He had watched it over and over in his mind for what seemed like days. The memories were always perfect, yet, somehow, each time was worse... each time it was closer to what it actually FELT like...

And added to that was the incessant pounding in his head... like repeated strikes of a massive hammer. Each resounding jolt was like an electric shock through his thoughts... like a gigantic spike being driven into his very soul. And perhaps that was what it was... some force driving into him... splitting him apart... He tried to resist it or shut it out, but how could he do either when he knew... deep down... that the monstrous hammer was the beating of his own heart!?

He was on the edge. On the edge of WHAT, he could not say... but he was close... close...

...all the things he was seeing. Jessica, Reynaldo, and a hundred thousand things in between. Over and over. Back and forth and back again through every inch of pain he had ever felt. Too much... it was all... too much... If this kept up, then something inside him was going to...

Did you see it?

...break.

You are not real, Even December's thoughts were fuzzy and jagged... and grew even more so with every bolt of that incredible THUNDER in his head...

Not real!? Then LOOK AGAIN!

NO!! NOT again! I will NOT-

Then perhaps this-

In two maddening beats of his own heart, December was somewhere else...

Pain lanced through his throat as Faction's hand closed around it. The assassin drove December to his knees. Bloodied... beaten... December looked up into the assassin's eyes.

"...she... will die screaming..." Faction whispered to him. "...screaming..."

Suddenly, the assassin stiffened as the subject of his threat thrust a six inch blade into his back from behind. Faction released December and spun to face the woman who's death was earned only by her presence at the side of the wrong man.

Theesa...

... she, who looked so very much like Jessica... who dared to love a man who deserved her heart least of all.

Faction's words echoed through December's mind as he got to his feet.

...die screaming...

She would die... screaming...

Theesa retreated before the assassin; he reached-

-but in that one moment's distraction, December had not only risen and grabbed Faction's arm... but had also snatched away the magical gem that protected the assassin.

And NOW... NOW there would be a reckoning.

Die Screaming!?

How DARE he! How DARE he THREATEN her!!

HOW DARE HE!?!

December sent a bolt of frozen anger into Faction's flesh, turning the assassins arm into a chunk of ice. His heart now pounding with rage, [...pounding.. pounding just like that THING in his head!!!] December ripped the arm from Faction's bleeding torso and threw the frozen appendage onto the wooden dock, where it broke apart-.

The scene halted... December was viewing it from outside his body now... floating outward and turning to see his own face...

...no...

YES!!

Did Theesa see it? Was she watching when it happened? Had she seen what December was now trying to turn away from... only to find that he could not?

Did she see that evil...insane... and utterly wicked SMILE on his face!?! That sardonic GRIN he wore as he ripped off a man's arm with his bare hands!? The power! He was BASKING in it!

REVELING in it!

Did she SEE THAT!?!

Was HE seeing it!?!

NO! That is not me!

It IS! Look at the power! You at your face! Did JESSICA ever give you as much pleasure as that!?

You LIE!

YOU lie!! LOOK! SEE with your own eyes! See the face that Lonnik King saw! See the face that REYNALDO-

NO! Not him!

Especially Him!

WHAT IS IT THAT YOU WANT FROM ME!!

They hurt you! They will always hurt you! It never ends! IT NEVER ENDS, and you don't WANT it to end... because it gives REASON to the slaughter you hide within your heart!

December told himself not to say any more. It was an illusion, and he knew it. He KNEW it! Answering an illusion was madness, but he could not STOP!

...but you don't need a reason! You don't need an excuse... because you have the POWER!

"DAMN YOU!" December said... unaware that he was even speaking out loud. "DAMN YOU, WHOEVER YOU ARE!"

I am you. And I AM damned! Damned because I am a liar! Because YOU are a liar! Pretending to be what you are not! Human? NO! Fraud!!

"leave me alone... it is not true... none of it is true. I am December. I am a man. And none of this is true-"

You still hold on to your lies! You are not a MAN! You are a Monster!! A Freak! GOD!!! Your power takes you BEYOND those pitiful fools who DARE to hurt you! You have the power to hurt them BACK! And it is ECSTASY!

...not true...

Your LIES keep you in pain! As long as you pretend to be one of them, they will keep making you DESTROY THEM!

NO!

How many years! How many DECADES! OVER and OVER again they come... as if they are your EQUALS!? The only way to make them stop is to SHOW them what you are... SHOW them that they are NOTHING!

...you are an illusion...

You WANT to do it! A monster guards the key to your power... and that monster is YOU! You WANT to destroy them!

No!

You let it out once... you didn't want to stop... you didn't HAVE to stop... YOU WANTED to kill them, and YOU DID! And now you don't EVER have to stop! Show them! Show them ALL!

You are trying... to drive me insane...

Sanity is for FOOLS and mortals! You... are LORD DECEMBER! Show them what that means! Show them THIS-

December felt a thick and horrid gush from the dozens... maybe even hundreds... of tubes riddling his body. For the slightest second he was back in the creature's lair, wrapped in a blanket of tentacles...

And then he was everywhere else.

Not ANYWHERE else... everywhere... all at once.

Jessica. Lonnik King. Reynaldo. Chain. Faction. All of them. And more. Sooooo many more. All the years. All the pain. All of the rage and all of the power. The images didn't come one at a time, but instead they came in one massive surge... layered and woven around each other along dimensions that defied time, space and sanity. December felt it all... reliving every second of it in one soul-shattering heartbeat.

"...she will die screaming..."

"Are you comfortable now, Reynaldo..."

"WINTER ALWAYS COMES!"

"I came to see your face... and then to remove it from your skull."

"...I love you..."

"EVERYTHING FREEZES!"

"You have fire. And will! I may have some use for you..."

"...bro...thers..."

"You will not refuse me, December. The Queen of Swords is not accustomed to being denied... especially in matters of love and battle."

"LOOK! LOOK WHAT YOU HAVE CREATED!"

"Your mistake was trusting a man with no conscience."

"You belong to me. Any thoughts to the contrary are both futile and dangerous..."

"...I think I see real angels... do you see them, too, father?"

"NOO!" December screamed. "Not her! Not THAT! PLEASE, NO MORE!"

But there was more. Much more. Enough to fill lifetimes.

It was too much. Everywhere at once... too many places... too much pain... too much hate and betrayal...

December's mind spun off of its axis and went careening into the chaos that he himself had created... his thoughts unwound like thread from a spindle, until, at the very end, there remained only one word... a name that once meant everything, and now meant only damnation:

"JESSICAAAAA"
---

A ten foot wide mound of dirt bulged upward in the center of the street. It grew quickly, doubling in size... and then nearly doubling again before sucking itself back down into a massive crater. The hiss of movement rapidly overtook the fading rumble... rising to announce the arrival of the largest cluster of tentacles that had yet to appear above ground.

A fountain of serpents exploded out of the crater.

The largest of the tentacles rose straight into the air and whipped back and forth while the smaller ones radiated outward in an expanding web.

"PUT ME DOWN!" Casey D'Arcy demanded as Gallows snagged the boy and yanked him upward. Before the demand was even finished, the place where the boy had been standing was already covered in squirming roots.

"Unless you can fly, you're safer with me," Gallows said calmly. "It tracks by movement, but only on the ground. We're safe up here."

"And what about the REST of my town!?"

The few townspeople that had remained... perhaps thinking they were at a safe distance from dueling necromancers and rampaging Disciples... were now running as fast as they could. Some escaped. Others were either snared by roots and dragged screaming into the crater... or were sucked down into new craters that opened beneath them in mid-stride.

Gallows could do nothing to save them. He had one arm full of squirming child, and other held a mini-crossbow that was woefully inadequate for the task. He had to put the boy down... but the second he did that, the child was doomed.

And the child was their only key to December.

"It doesn't like crowds, said Gallows. "but its willing to take the chance on exposure to get to YOU. Any idea why?"

"Because I know how to KILL it!"

"Care to share that with the rest of us?"

"The information will do you no good. I would need my full strength and MORE to banish it, but thanks to your necromancer I have almost nothing!"

"Any suggestions?" said Gallows.

"You wanted to fight the creature," Trisk/Casey sneered. "Well... fight it!"

On the ground, the fight between Hars and the Disciple was interrupted by the creature's arrival. The Disciple turned to face its master... its rotting face folded into a fair imitation of stunned surprise.

Hars took this as his cue to depart. The dozen or so tentacles heading toward him didn't look friendly, and he at least wanted to stay alive long enough to slice that damned necromancer's head from his shriveled neck.

"CLEAR THE BUILDING!" he shouted as he ran toward Cordelia's door. "EMERSON, GET THE WOMEN OUT BEFORE IT-"

The building suffered a massive JOLT that shattered every window and snapped all the beams in the ceiling... sending the roof collapsing inward as the house itself started sinking into the ground.

Francesca D'Arcy and Cordelia South staggered out of the front door, followed an instant later by Floyd D'Arcy.

Emerson Shaw climbed out a window.

"RUN!" Hars ordered.

"What happened to our magical support!?"

"Bastard betrayed us! Gallows has the boy! We've got to get these women out of here! I'll hold these things off, You and Hemingway get them to safety!"

"But-"

"GO!"

Hars stopped running and turned back.

The tide of tentacles... now numbering in the hundreds... split and went around the motionless Disciple, then merged again and came straight for Hars.

Hemingway Shaw was making a dash for his hammer, but when the ground between him and it began to bulge upward, he gave the weapon up for lost and ran to his brother's side. Clods of dirt sprayed across his back as another crater yawned open behind him. Hemingway didn't really want to know what was coming out of it; it probably looked a lot like what was in front of him... about to overtake Hars and swallow his brother.

"WE NEED SOME HELP DOWN HERE!" Hemingway shouted. "WHERE IS N'DOKI!"

"Good Bloody Question!" Hars grunted as he threw himself into battle... and was immediately thrown back by the explosion of flames from above. The flames formed a thick wall across the ground before him, temporarily separating him from the tentacles... and giving him time to run. "THANKS, GALLOWS!"

"Wasn't me," Gallows replied. Clutched under the assassin's arm, Casey was gesturing in an attempt to cast another spell.

"I am not saving YOU!" said Trisk. "Every death only fuels its power... I am preventing this enemy from becoming an even GREATER threat to Bephal than it already is!"

"HELLLLPPP!!" Cordelia screamed. She was lagging behind Floyd and Francesca when something burst from the ground in front of her. The sudden jolt sent her sprawling.

Floyd and Francesca turned and saw the spiral of tentacles spreading outward from the fresh crater. Cordelia was doomed... and they likely were as well.

"SPLIT UP!" Hars shouted as he approached them from behind... far behind.

Father and daughter ran in opposite directions. Floyd sprinted for the nearest house, while Francesca ran out into the open street.

All of the tentacles went after Francesca.

Emerson Shaw was halfway down the street, his short legs carrying him further away from the people he was supposed to be helping. When he heard the shouting, he stopped to look.

"Oh, great... I hate slow people..."

Hars and Hemingway converged on Cordelia, who was already being dragged into the new crater.

"HELLLLPPPPP!"

Hars reached Cordelia first. He had her free in three quick slashes, and was pulling her to her feet when the crater into which she had nearly vanished split down the middle... sprouting two huge cracks that began to propagate across the street. Hars and Cordelia were cut off from Hemingway, who had just arrived to 'rescue' them.

The wall of flame separating Hars from the swarm of roots behind him suddenly went out.

The ground began to shake violently as the second crater widened to become larger than the first.

Hars started fighting off the roots with swift, savage strokes of his swords. Watching him and screaming simultaneously, Cordelia backed away toward the widening chasm-

One root... as thick as a tree... reached up, circled her waist... and yanked her down without a sound.

Francesca saw the old woman go. As sobering as the sight was, she still tripped and went chest-first into the dirt.

Something immediately wrapped around both of her legs, and she felt herself being dragged backwards.

"HELP ME!"

She reached her hand out for Emerson. He was running toward her, but was still receding into the distance as whatever had her pulled her quickly toward her doom.

"GET OUT OF HERE!" Hars commanded. He was surrounded by roots on three sides... and blocked on the forth by a chasm that he could not leap over.

The root that grabbed Cordelia rose up from the chasm and whipped toward him while he slashed at the tangle in front of him.

"BEHIND YOU!"

Hemingway leapt at the one large root... he caught it in the air and let his own weight pull it down and away from Hars... and toward the chasm from which it had come.

Hemingway saw a shadow pass over his head. He ignored it. His feet touched the edge of the chasm. Hemingway twisted and struggled to get himself onto solid ground while wrestling the huge tentacle that was already wrapping around him.

Behind him, Harrison Blackshear growled a wordless battle cry

But the chasm had already sprouted other, smaller tentacles. One of had Francesca D'Arcy by the feet and was about to pull the screaming woman in. Hemingway saw her... but could do nothing. Emerson was coming for her, but he was going to be too late.

In the blink of an eye, Francesca was-

-thwip-

Gallows fired his one pitiful bolt, impaling the smaller tentacle and pinning it down for just an instant... long enough for her savior to arrive.

Her savior was not Emerson Shaw.

The Disciple swept down behind her, grabbed the root in his gnarled hands, and pulled it apart. Feeling the tentacle go limp, Francesca rolled over and looked up-

"MMMMMM!!!" The Disciple jerked his head down toward her. The empty spaces where his eyes should have been widened, and expanse of sewn flesh that was his mouth stretched as if in a shout or a command. The Disciple pointed down the street... to safety. "MMMMMMM!"

Francesca got to her feet and ran-

-right into Emerson. The fleeing woman knocked him aside and kept going as-

"STOP! SOMEBODY HELP ME, DAMMIT!"

Floyd D'Arcy was cornered. He had reached a house, but the door was locked and the window was shut. The old man's back was pressed against a sturdy wooden wall as several tentacles slithered toward him.

Emerson spotted him at the same time as the Disciple.

"mmmmmmmmm..." The undead thing growled. "...mmmm..."

With a rustle of cloth and the disgusting squish of rotting flesh, the Disciple leapt into the air and glided across the still-widening chasm...

...passing Harrison Blackshear and Hemingway Shaw without a second glance...

... and dove down toward Floyd.

"MMMMMM!"

"AAAAAEEIIIIIIIII!!!!!"

The Disciple landed in front of D'Arcy and clamped its claw-like hand around the old man's throat.

"...mmmm...."

The Disciple raised its other hand. Flesh shriveled away from the fingertips to reveal the shards of bone and prongs of rusty wire beneath. The creature lashed out-

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-NOOOOOO!!!!"

And ripped a long, jagged gash down the wall beside Floyd's head.

"How much longer do we have to live!" Hemingway shouted back at Hars. The circus strongman continued to wrestle with the tree-like tentacle... which was now wrapped completely around him and pulling him steadily... but slowly... back toward the chasm.

"...'bout a minute," Hars replied between slashes. "...maybe less."

"That long, eh?" Hemingway grunted as the root started to crush him. "URK!"

"What can I say... we're good! And if you think I'm gonna let you die BEFORE me then yer SADLY MISTAKEN!"

Hars turned his back to the roots he'd been fighting and instead attacked the one holding Hemingway. Two strikes cut a chunk out of the thing's hide. The root spasmed... and Hemingway got one gasp of air into his lungs...

Hars drew back to slash again... but his arm was quickly engulfed in tentacles that had come up behind him. Arms... legs... torso... the swordsman was soon covered in living roots.

"LIKE I SAID!" Harrison shouted as the roots pulled him back. "I DIE FIRST!"

"No, sir... unngh... you don't!" Hemingway started to peel the tentacle off of him so that he could rescue Hars... but it wouldn't budge! He wasn't strong enough!

Suddenly, everything went quiet.

The roots stopped moving for an instant. And then all of them at once underwent one gigantic shudder that shook the ground and nearly crushed Hemingway's ribs.

"AAAARRRK!"

The roots holding Hars loosened just enough for him to free one sword. He started to slash-

The chasm behind him cracked open... gaining another three yards of width in one massive jerk, like a pair of jaws being snatched open. Even MORE tentacles began to rise from the depths... but instead of attacking, they began flailing about in chaotic spasms.

The ground shook once more... the sudden jolt settled into a deep and ominous vibration that began to collapse the nearby buildings.

With a shout of triumph from Casey D'Arcy, long spears of flame began raining from the sky. They struck in a cascading bombardment, scorching the ground all around Harrison Blackshear. The roots retreated, but the ground kept shaking. Whatever was happening... it was getting worse.

"PAIN!" Gallows shouted from above. "SOMETHING IS HURTING IT! SOMETHING UNDERGROUND!"

"N'Doki!?" Hars shouted back.

"Your necromancer lacks the power to do this!" Trisk replied. "This is something else..."

---

"NEVER AGAIN!" December bellowed in icy fury as he tore free from of his now-frozen cage. Roots snapped like try twigs, filling the darkness with shards of ice.

"NEVER!" He cried. He grabbed the tubes protruding from his side and yanked them out. The pain sent a pulse of supernatural cold rebounding across the bottom of the egg-shaped chamber. Roots on the other side of the chamber froze in place. Some shattered... torn apart by their own inertia.

"HOW DARE YOU!"

December tore the tubes from his neck and abdomen.

Living roots were retreating up the walls of the cave like a curtain. December...eyes glowing like bright blue suns... shook his fist at the creature.

"DO YOU NOT KNOW WHO I AMMM! I AM DECEMBER!! LORD DECEMBER!!!"

December pointed, and the roots covering a section of the wall turned white with the distinct CRACKLE of ice. Everything else in the chamber shuddered.

"I AM THE SON OF A GOD!!!" December swept his fist before him, drawing a line of frozen death across the chamber wall.

The cave shook. Large sheets of frozen roots fell to the floor.... where everything was already covered with a rapidly thickening layer of ice.

"I WILL DESTROY YOU! ALL OF YOU, DO YOU HEAR MEEE! ALLL OF YOOUUUU!"

December clapped both hands together above him, and a spark of clear blue light leapt from his hands and arced up to the top of the egg.

Everything it touched died. The web of crisscrossing roots SHATTERED and rained down around the rampaging godling.

"EVERY LAST ONE OF YOU!!!!"

December's heartbeat pounded in his head like a hammer as ice and frozen chunks of matter fell around him.

"DIE!!!"

The upper half of the chamber convulsed as his fury touched it. Roots began retreating into the walls-

"NO ESCAPE!" December roared. "THERE IS NO PLACE YOU CAN HIDE!!!"

December pointed at the receding tendrils several yards above him...

...they froze instantly. The section of wall into which they had been retreating CRACKED as the moisture in the rocks turned to ice.

The cracking repeated elsewhere...

...further down, closer to December... another section of wall collapsed from sub-arctic cold that was pouring off of him in unending waves.

Beyond the shattered wall was an opening...

"WINTER IS EVERYWHERE!!!" December shouted at the top of his lungs. The rush of blood in his veins was like a constant roar in his head.... the roar of the beast that had replaced his thoughts with fury and cold, hard fire.

All over the chamber, the roots and tentacles continued to retreat.
December ignored the exit and continued to howl his madness at the creature above.

"I AM EVERYWHERE, LONNIK KING! DO YOU HERE ME! Do You- LISTEN TO ME, DAMN YOU!!!"

Another gesture, and more of the roots crackled and fell apart. The light from December's eyes was so bright that it bathed everything around him in an eerie blue tint.

Halfway up the chamber wall, a cocoon of roots was inching its way up and away from the lake of frozen death surrounding December.

"FACTION!" December roared. He did not point at the roots... he just LOOKED at them-

-CRACK-

"I SEE YOU, FACTION!!!"

-CRACK!-

The supporting tendrils froze and separated, dropping the package down to the floor. The roots forming the cocoon were white and brittle. When it struck a jutting section of wall, the cocoon split half-open, allowing a small form to tumble out-

-claws grasped the stone and held on as the cocoon continued down, landing near December and breaking into a thousand icy fragments.

The flow of chemicals into J'hasp's body had halted at the first beginnings of December's rampage. Now, almost a minute later, J'Hasp was awake... though too weak to do more than hang on as, below him, December howled like a demon.

"DRYAAAAA!!! DRYA, YOU BITCH! YOU DID THIS TO MEEEE! YOU DID THIS TO ME!! NRRRAAAAAAAAA!!!"

A sustained bolt of blue rage... like the first ray of some blue, alien sun... lanced upward and outward in a widening arc. Successively larger stones began to fall from the ceiling...

"I WILL TEAR OUT YOUR THROAT, YOU FROZEN WHORE!!! I WILL FIND YOU! NO MATTER WHERE YOU HIDE... I WILL FIND YOUUUU!!"

The stone to which J'Hasp clung began to crack apart. Its surface was already slick with ice... J'Hasp's claws could not hold, and ice was beginning to form on his skin...

"...masster..." J'Hasp hissed. "...J'Hasp cold..."

"SHUT UP!!" December snapped. His glowing gazed tore along the wall, trying to find the source of this new voice that was tormenting him.

Everything he saw... everything his eyes touched... sprouted a new, thicker layer of frost.

"WHERE ARE YOU, YOU BASTARD! REYNALDO! HOW COULD YOU BETRAY ME! I MADE YOU!! YOU WERE MY FRIEND, DAMN YOU!"

J'Hasp hissed again... his breath billowed around his face in a thick cloud. The creature's eyes went from December to the hole in the wall below...

"...J'Hasp no leave master..."

"CHAIN! RELEASE HER NOW! TOUCH HER AND I WILL BRING DEATH TO YOU AND EVERYONE YOU KNOW!!! THERE'S NO PLACE YOU CAN HIDE FROM MEEE!!!"

December was gone. Even a creature as simple as J'Hasp could see that there was nothing of his master left within the elemental force below.

"WHO SENT YOU!!?! WHO HAS BETRAYED ME NOW!?!! WHO!!?!"

The room shuddered. J'Hasp started to slip. Seeing a way to hug the wall and avoid the widening cone of instant death surrounding December... J'Hasp leapt-

He bounced off of another rock... dislodging it and sending it falling to the ground while he sprang in another direction.

CRASH!

The shattering rock caught December's attention. He saw a flare of heat... something living... disappear down a corridor that he had not seen before.

"I SEE YOU!" The stone around the opening froze instantly and began to crack apart. "I SEE YOU, K'SANO! MURDERER!"

The long-frozen mat of roots at the bottom of the chamber cracked furiously as December stormed across them...

"YOU WILL LOOK INTO MY EYES WHEN I KILL YOU, WARLORD!! YOU WILL LOOK INTO MY EYES AND SEE DEATH!!"

December followed his madness out of the creature's chamber, which continued its collapse without him. Everything in it was frozen and dead... the only movement remaining was the falling of stones and the shattering of rock...

---

"HEMINGWAY!"

"Get out of here!"

Hemingway was still trapped. The giant root was still pulling him down, only now the creature seemed to have the strength of desperation behind it. Hars was trying to clear a path toward him, but the swordsman was surrounded. The smaller roots were flailing randomly and not attacking... but whenever they touched something solid, they snagged it and tried to drag it away. Rocks... debris... pieces of houses... WHOLE houses... everything. The creature was trying to grab everything it could!

And all the while, the ground continued to shake.

"Get out of here, EM! I MEAN IT!"

Emerson Shaw had run up to the edge of the chasm. Hemingway was on the other side, fighting for his life.

"TAKE THE KNIFE!"

Emerson raised his golden blade.

"USE THE MAGIC! MAKE YOURSELF STRONGER!"

Emerson threw the dagger...

...it was a perfect throw. The blade sank into the root's flank. Hemingway grabbed it.

"STAB IT!" Emerson shouted. "STAB IT!"

Hemingway pulled the golden dagger out... and then drove it back in as hard as he could.

There was a flash, and Hemingway gasped-

"Oh... my... gods..."

The dagger's magic made Emerson more of what he already was. And it did the same to Hemingway. Stronger? He hadn't noticed yet, as he was distracted by every book he had ever read... and every story he had ever heard... trying to cram into his mind at the same time.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!" He screamed. More of what he already was! The damned blade was making him SMARTER!!

The rush of energy subsided, leaving Hemingway stunned...

"HEM, WAKE UP!!" Emerson shouted as he dodged the flailing roots. "WAKE UP, IT'S PULLING YOU IN!!!"

Hemingway's eyes snapped open. The root had almost yanked him in! He planted his feet in the dirt and pulled...

...he started moving back, dragging the root along with him!

Hemingway gripped the monster's side, and his fingers made pulp out of the thing's flesh. He found and grip and pulled again.

The root started to come out of the ground.

Meanwhile, Floyd D'Arcy's pants were sporting the still-warm contents of his bladder. The Disciple had the old man by the neck, slowly chocking him with one arm while pounding its fist into the wall with the other.

"MMMMMM!!!!" The Disciple moaned angrily.

"...please let me go... please... PLEASE!" Floyd begged.

"MMMMM!!"

"...please don't kill me!! I'm an old man! I'm sorry for what I did to you... I'm SORRY!"

"MMMMMMMMMMM!!!!!!!!!"

The Disciple pulled Floyd away and then spun the old man around to face the wall. The monster's claws had carved deep grooves into the wood...

...grooves that at first looked like random scratches. But then Floyd's eyes saw what his mind refused to believe.

"NO!" Floyd cried. "NO! NO! NO!!"

Scratched into the wood were the crude outlines of the letters:

I-N-O-S-E-N-T

"NOOOO-MPH!"

Floyd's scream was muffled by the Disciple's hand clamping over his face. Wire and maggots squirmed against... and then INTO... the old man's skin.

Blood began to trail down D'Arcy's neck...

"Hars, keep those things off of me!" Hemingway shouted. "Gallows, can you see the bottom of this thing yet!?!"

Gallows... with Casey D'Arcy still under one arm... floated over the chasm and looked down.

"Not yet! Keep Pulling!"

"NO!" shouted Casey. "You can't kill it!"

"But at least we can get a good LOOK at it, EH!?" Hemingway called back. "What Kingdom? What Phylum? Class... Order... Family... What SPECIES!? I've got them all memorized!! One look and I'll know EXACTLY how to do this bastard in!"

He pulled... his fingers began to loose grip, so he turned around and draped the end of the root over one shoulder. Now, with more leverage, he continued yanking the creature out of its hole.

The root got thicker as more of it came out... but the ground suddenly gave a mighty heave-

-and half of the chasm collapsed into a sink-hole, forming an uneven ramp leading down into the crater.

Hars gave a warning shout that ended in a confused yelp.

Hemingway looked up and saw that the roots around Hars had stopped moving again.

They looked dead.

Floyd D'Arcy's scream broke the sudden silence.

The Disciple had collapsed.

Floyd's freedom was as sudden as it was unexpected, but he was taking full advantage of it. He ran... and behind him, the Disciple sagged weakly to the ground...

"SOMETHING'S COMING!" Gallows warned. He floated backward while talking to Casey. "Look, I'm going to put you down so I can do some damn GOOD down there!"

Gallows swung low to the ground and dropped the boy.

"EMERSON, WATCH HIM!" The assassin shouted.

Casey took off running.

Emerson tripped the boy and then rested his boot on the back of the lad's head.

"WHAT'S COMING!" Hemingway grunted.

"I think its-"

"....Master ANGRY!" J'Hasp squealed as he bounded out of the hole. "RUN! RUN!"

"Master angry?" Hemingway repeated. "What's that thing talking about-"

The root that Hemingway was holding suddenly grew stiff... and cold. Somewhere down in the crater, the root snapped with a sound that could be heard all the way to the surface. The sudden slack sent Hemingway stumbling.

"RUN!" J'Hasp warned. The creature was jumping frantically up and down. "ANGRY! RUN!"

J'Hasp grabbed Emerson and Casey and tried to forcibly drag them both away.

"HEY! LEMME GO!"

"RUN!"

"Is anyone else getting cold?" Hars said suspiciously.

"MASTER COMING!!!"

"Something else is moving down there!" Said Gallows. Now free of his cumbersome cargo, the assassin had assembled his collapsible longbow and was aiming a glowing arrow into the crater. "Coming this way..."

"MASTER COMES!" J'Hasp screeched.

"MOVE BACK IF YOU VALUE YOUR LIVES!"

This last shout came not from Hars... or Gallows... or Casey...

...but from N'Doki.

The necromancer appeared at the far end of the street. He waved his hands at the Night's Bloom and shouted:

"BANKITA! GATHER!"

Hars, Hemingway, Gallows, Floyd, and J'Hasp were immediately swept off of their feet and hauled backward through the air like kittens. J'Hasp was still holding onto Casey and Emerson... and the lot of them were dumped in a heap at the necromancer's feet-

Just as a human figure walked out of the collapsed crater and stood defiantly in the street.

December regarded the city around him with a sinister sneer.

The ground around him was already frozen solid. More of it was freezing in concentric circles around him.

"AGAIN!" He shouted.

"Eh?" said Hemingway. "What's he-"

"AGAIN AND AGAIN! I AM STILL HERE, KING! I WILL DESTROY YOU AGAIN! AND AGAIN! EVERY TIME YOU RISE I WILL BE HERE TO SMITE YOU DOWN!!"

"He's lost it," said Hars. "Whatever happened down there... he's lost it!"

"Then we've got to-" Hemingway had started to walk into the street, but there was a flash of... shadow... and he was thrown back.

"Leave de protective circle at your peril," said N'Doki. "N'Doki's power keep you safe here... while we watch de end of Bephal!"

"NO!" Casey leap to his feet-

And N'Doki backhanded him, spinning the boy around and dropping him back to the ground in a single punch.

"...magic..." N'Doki chuckled. "Feh!"

December turned around suddenly, as if he had heard something. He looked down into the crater-

"YOU!!!!"

December thrust both fists before him, and the Night's Bloom gave a collective gasp as two things happened at once.

First, a perfect sphere of bright blue energy formed around December's hands. It lasted for only an instant before it elongated into a thick column of power that roared down into the chasm. The ground... which had ceased its convulsions about the time the tentacles went dead... began to shake again with renewed vigor.

Second, the temperature began to drop as spherical waves of cold began radiating from December's body. December's own clothing... enchanted to resist the effects of his own power... froze against his skin.

"DRYAAA!" December shouted into the creature's hole. "I SEE YOU DOWN THERE MOCKING ME! DIE, YOU BITCH!!!"

The ground around December began to buckle and undulate. Cracks appeared in the street....

...and in the now-frozen walls of the few surrounding houses that were still standing.

"I WILL KILL YOU WITH YOUR OWN POWER, WHORE!!"

December released another blast of cold into the crater. Something at the bottom moved... convulsed... shaking the entire street with its pain.

"WARLORD! I HAVE FOUND YOU! FOR MY PARENTS... FOR MY PEOPLE... FOR REYNALDO!!!!"

Again, December struck.

And again, more anti-thermal energy poured off of him... stretching out into the city, down into the ground, and up into the clouds

Snow fell from the sky.

"...masster..." J'Hasp shivered. He turned to N'Doki. "Help masster."

N'Doki chuckled.

"He's killing it," said Hars. "He's KILLING it!"

"But he'll destroy this whole street in the process," said Hemingway.

"Street?" said N'Doki. "You t'ink too small..."

"We can't let that happen!" Hemingway protested.

"Den leave," said N'Doki. "Leave if you wish." He waved his hand at the barrier around them. There was no change, but when Gallows charged out into the street, he passed through it effortlessly-

-and immediately dropped to his knees.

"AAAAGH!" The archer leaned backward... and stopped. Frost formed on his clothing... "C-c-can't..."

The temperature outside the barrier was already too low to survive for more than a few seconds.

"Pull him back in!"

Hemingway reached through the barrier and grabbed Gallows' cape.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!" Hemingway screamed. His fingers were turning blue... but he already had a grip on the cape. He pulled Gallows back in.

"....can't... can't f-f-feel... hands..." Gallows trembled. "...can't..."

"Dammit, if you've killed him!" Hars snapped at N'Doki.

Suddenly, the crater in front of December exploded as something monstrous forced its way up into the open... and deadly... air.

It was a single tentacle the size of a house. Its eruption threw December backward, but he quickly got to his feet-

"AT LAST I SEE YOU, KING!!!!"

The tentacle surged upward to a height of over sixty feet... then swayed back and forth in the air... slowly... patches of ice and dead, frozen flesh were already forming along its flanks.

December walked back down in the crater and thrust his hand against the monster's hide.

The entire tentacle... from the tip to the base still buried deep in the ground... went rigid.

"WHY DID YOU KILL HER?" December shouted. "SHE NEVER DID ANYTHING TO YOU!!! SHE LOVED ME! SHE LOVED ME, DAMN YOU!!! SHE LOVED MEEEEE!!!"

There was a pulse of power that could be felt even inside N'Doki's protective barrier as December's body drank in the heat from an ever-expanding radius. The enormous tentacle had ceased its swaying... and was now beginning to come apart under its own weight.

But December was not finished.

He had no intention of stopping. There was no difference between a dead foe and a living one... because the foes were all in his mind. They were in his mind, and thus they could not die.

So he had to keep killing them. He had to keep destroying them, and when they refused to die, then he had to try harder...

"JESSICAAAAAAAAAA!"

...and harder...

"I'LL DESTROY YOU! I SWEAR I WILL! I SWEAR IT!"

...and HARDER...

"DIE, YOU WEAK... PATHETIC... MORTALS!!! DECEMBER IS ETERNAL! HOW DARE YOU LAY HANDS UPON ME! I WILL TEACH YOU THE TRUE TOUCH OF POWER, WARLORD! K'SANO! COME NOW AND LOOK UPON-"

December stopped suddenly and doubled over, both hands clasped to his head. The pounding... the POUNDING!

"ARRRRRGH!! DRYA! YOU ARE DOING THIS TO ME!! WHERE ARE YOU!? FACE ME!!!"

The air around December began to shimmer ominously... filled with a trembling energy...

"FACE ME, YOU BITCH!!! ATTACK FROM THE SHADOWS, WILL YOU!?! I'LL KILL YOU WHEREVER YOU ARE!"

December's steadily-glowing eyes began to flicker. He walked out of the crater and sank to his knees at its edge.

"I'LL KILL ALL OF YOU!" he shouted at the heavens. Sparks of brilliant blue power began to arc across the surface of his skin. The sparks intensified as the air thickened around him.

His enemies were all around him. Names and faces mocked him from every shadow and street corner. But they didn't know his power... he could reach them wherever they were... he could strike them down... strike them DEAD!!

He had done it before.

He would do it again.

All of them. All of them would die.

"Yessssss...." December hissed... smiling a smile that never been seen by anyone who had lived to describe it. "YESSSS!!!"

N'Doki began to grin and hum like a mischievous schoolchild.

"What's happening?" said Hemingway. "What's he going to do?"

"NOTHING!" said Trisk/Casey.

Before anyone could stop him, the child dove through N'Doki's barrier.

"NO! YOU'LL DIE-"

Flames poured off of Casey's skin, surrounding him in a miniature inferno. The fire flickered and weakened as he approached December, but each time it came close to fading, more flames emerged to replace it.

Too small and too slow to reach December in time on foot, Casey took to the air... an brief arc of orange flame carried the boy across the distance to crater.

"DECEMBER!" Trisk shouted as he landed. The mage's barrier of flames was under constant assault. December's power ATE fire... and Trisk had to constantly replenish his flames to keep from freezing solid.

But even with the flames, he had already lost feeling in his extremities.

"DECEMBER!"

"...who... who dares..." December growled as he looked up. He saw Casey and smiled. "....Faction!!!"

"FOOL! I am TRISK! Who are YOU!?! The December I know would never be conquered so EASILY! HE would never let himself come to this... being USED! Not even like a MAN, but like some inanimate OBJECT! A WEAPON!"

"YOU LIE! THE WARLORD HAS CORRUPTED YOU! REYNALDO!!!! REYNALDO WHY DID YOU BETRAY ME!"

"LISTEN to yourself! December is no MADMAN! And he is not a PAWN!"

"NOT A PAWN!" December shouted as if he had thought of the words himself. "NOT A PAWN! WHAT... What... DRYA!!"

"It's USING you to destroy the city! THat's what it WANTS! That's what it wanted all along! So it TOOK you and turned you into its weapon!"

"I... I destroyed it... I DESTROYED THEM ALL!"

"It doesn't matter if you destroyed it or NOT! It can let itself die because it knows YOU will still give it what it wants! To Destroy Bephal!"

"I'll KILL THEM ALL AGAIN!"

"N'Doki HELP him!" Hemingway pleaded. "That kid is turning BLUE out there! He's gonna die!"

"Yes," said N'Doki. "He is."

"And you're gonna let it HAPPEN!?!"

"Yes. I am."

"You are a TOOL just like the puppet!" Casey pointed to the frozen remains of the Disciple. "Your enemy has defeated you and bent you to its will!"

"NEVER!"

"I can help you... but only if you TRY! Only if you WANT to be helped!"

Trisk's flame was beginning to die. And when it did... he would die with it.

"THEESA!" Hars shouted through the barrier. "TELL HIM-"

N'Doki instantly made the barrier substantial again, shutting off Harrison's words to Casey.

"...who..." December's brow wrinkled. "...who... killed her? Which ONE OF YOU KILLED HER!!"

Trisk looked back at Hars, then at December. He didn't know what that name meant... but it had touched something.

"She's not dead!" Trisk said... unsure of what he was attempting to do. "She stands beside you... can you not SEE her!?"

December looked beside him. Theesa was not there.

"WHERE IS SHE!!?"

"It is a TRAP!" Trisk said quickly. "They've blinded you to her presence, hoping that you would destroy her when you lashed out at THEM!"

"BASTARDS!" December growled. "This is K'SANO'S doing! He and DRYA have conspired against me from the BEGINNING! I'll KILL THEM BOTH!"

"But not here! Not NOW! Strike NOW and you'll play right into their hands! You'll KILL her! You'll KILL her with your own power... and THEN who will you take vengeance against!?"

"THEESA!" December tried to see the phantom presence that he 'knew' was there. Where was she? Those bastards had blinded him! But he would not play their game!

No, he would NOT play their GAME!

December rose to his feet and inhaled... not air, but power. He pulled the buildup of power back into himself. He couldn't use it here... he couldn't, without hurting... hurting...

"VOICES!" December screamed. "VOICES IN MY HEAD! MAKE THEM STOP! MAKE THEM STOP!"

"YOU make them stop," said Trisk. "They are YOUR voices! You couldn't control them before... but now you can!"

"STOP! STOP! DAMN YOU, STOP POUNDING IN MY EARS! STOP! STOOOOOPPPP!!!!"

December's muscles went rigid... then he lurched forward, landing on his hands and knees. His chest heaved... his stomach clenched...

December opened his mouth and spewed out a long stream of foul green venom. The creature's poison erupted from his throat like a fountain of evil...

...which is exactly what it was.

He heaved again.

His stomach emptied... but his tissues bled more of the foul green filth back into it. He emptied it again...

...and again, vomiting up the madness that had been pumped inside him.

Trisk backed away from him. The temperature was already beginning to return to normal, but it was very cold. His power was spent...

Jeremiah Trisk vacated Casey's body... leaving a cold and frightened boy alone on the street.

"MAMAAA!! GRAMPAAA!"

"Let us out of here!" Hars demanded.

N'Doki looked down at him. The necromancer was not pleased...

...but he dismissed the barrier.

Arctic air washed over them. Gallows lay curled up in a ball beside Hemingway. The archer shuddered at the cold.

Floyd went to his grandson. Hars and Hemingway ran to the crater, where December was still on his hands and knees. There was no more venom within him, but he was weak. And the memory of the madness was still too close. He shuddered at the thought of what he had almost done. The shudder took the last of his strength, and he would have collapsed had Hemingway not caught his arm.

"He's cold," said Hemingway.

"He's always like that... he'll be fine."

"...how many..." December moaned. "...how many... did I kill..."

"I don't think YOU killed anyone," said Hars. "Unless you count that."

Hars pointed to the shattered stump of the creature, still protruding out of the hole in the street.

December's body seemed to relax slightly.

"...good..." he said. "...rest now... J'Hasp...where..."

"He came out before ye," said Harrison. "He's..."

J'Hasp has been with N'Doki, but now he was-

"There he is."

Hemingway found the J'Hasp sniffing around the remains of the Disciple. J'hasp picked Dorath's skull out of the rags and wire... he sniffed it, then growled and tossed it away.

The frozen skull shattered.

"Dead," said Hemingway. "Finally."

"I guess that means it's master is gone fer good, too," said Hars.

Hemingway frowned.

"I wonder..."

J'Hasp looked up from the rotting rags and glanced out at the town. For a moment... for just the slightest instant... the creature's eyes flashed a pale, sickly green...

"...I wonder."

[To Be Continued]