The mystery had come not like a single thief, but like a horde of thieves. At first, they used the darkness to cover their progress from one home to another.... but as the night wore on, their boldness grew to match their greed. Darkness became a strange, morning... and a sunless sky loomed over the streets of Bephal as if heaven itself had closed its eyes rather than look upon the city. The thieves continued their silent march through the town. But instead of gold, jewels, and silk, the highwaymen slipped quietly into homes and snatched men and women from their beds... dragging them off into a deep and ugly oblivion. In some cases, the houses were taken along with the owners, leaving nothing except patches of loose dirt, and an occasional splash of fresh blood.

The town woke to begin its day. It was not long before men noticed the empty streets... and women noticed the empty lots where a distant neighbor's house had sat. Children shouted at empty windows, calling for playmates that would not come. Wives gathered at the curious remains of a watering hole, and wondered aloud at the missing and absent. Wonder became rumor. Rumor became action.

A window was smashed, and a small child climbed into a house that was not his own. He returned with feet that were bloody not from wounds, but from the pool of blood he had found inside. A pool of blood... and nothing more.

The hefty shoulders of three men forced open the sturdy and still-locked door of a farmhouse... revealing the jagged hole in the hardwood floor of the kitchen. Beneath the hole lay a mound of freshly-disturbed earth.

Old men and strong women poked at the pile of rocks that had been a well only half a day before. Some of the rocks had blood on them. Some of THOSE rocks had bits of cloth... or flesh... tucked underneath.

As the sky lightened to a more ash-colored shade of gray, the pockets of rumor and discovery began to merge. The resulting unease was peppered with strange recollections: One man had heard screams in the night. Another heard a roar... and another a thunderclap on a night that had been devoid of clouds. Still another heard the distinctive sound of heavy wooden beams snapping like twigs. A few women claimed that they had looked out of a window had seen winged figures gliding... or flying... between the rooftops. Several people said that they had seen a long and monstrous shape reach up from the ground and snatch down a house just before dawn. They had gone to investigate, but were chased away by a sudden explosion.

Strange figures creeping toward... and away from... the cemetery.

Giants and demons fighting in the streets.

Lights and sounds and shouts...

Shadowy glimpse of things that had not been seen in Bephal since before the days of Jerimiah Trisk...

The sheriff was summoned... but those sent to summon him quickly returned with a new name to add to the list of missing: the sheriff. His first deputy was also gone (along with his house) and the second deputy refused to answer his door with anything other than frightened profanity. When the people tried to force their way in, they discovered that the deputy had nailed planks over the doors and windows. He had seen something through his window earlier in the night, and he was not... NOT... coming out.

At that moment, a separate group of townsfolk were seeing what the deputy had witnessed.

As if summoned by the mere act of inquiry, the mystery burst from the ground in front of Cordelia Strom's house and began to snatch men and women from the street. The swiftest of the victims... the only ones who lived... said they saw a group of strangers who, armed with considerable magic and/or stupidity, did battle the thing. Only the beginning was seen with anything approaching certainty. Those who witnessed more than that were either among the combatants themselves, or never lived to tell of what they saw.

But, of course, there were the rumors.

There were rumors of flying men... with descriptions reminiscent of what some had seen earlier. One of the men appeared to have been dead for quite some time.

There were reports of fire from the sky... summoned either by the creature or by the people who fought it.

Before news of mysterious smoke and flames could spread more than a few blocks... snow began to fall. The air sharpened into a sudden, localized blizzard... cold enough to freeze nails in their holes and swords in their scabbards... cold enough to separate fingers and toes from their proper appendages in the space of only a few seconds. Had the earlier combat not already cleared the area of spectators, then the street would have been littered with the crystallized corpses of the onlookers.

When the supernatural cold began to fade... although not quite as quickly as it had come... men and women crept out of their hiding places to have their first REAL look at what had happened.

They found mounds of frozen rubble where houses once sat.

They found a massive chasm... wide and deep enough to have swallowed more than a few of the missing houses all at once.

Protruding from that chasm was the frozen remnants of was first mistaken for a massive tree trunk. But this tree had no branches, and the bits of it that were not frozen solid had a softer, fleshier feel to them... as did the root-like tentacles that lay across the earth like fragments of a shattered web.

When several crowds... each of them operating under a different rumor... converged on the area, the fear and accusations nearly sparked a second wave of violence among the ruins left by the first.

No one knew what any of the strange events meant. No one knew what had happened to the missing townspeople... and no one had any intention of going down into the chasm to seek the answers that may... or may not... wait there.

There was no sign of the strangers that had... according to some third-hand rumors... had been fighting the tree/root-creature and had either caused... or ended... the sudden blizzard.

No one claimed to have ever seen anything like it before.

Some of them were lying.


---

"Dead? What do you mean 'dead'?"

"I think 'dead' is pretty self-explanatory, Hem," said Thane.

Gandrick's corpse lay on the floor at the fighter's feet, where the returning members of the Night's Bloom had discovered it. Yet another unpleasant surprise in a long line of unpleasant surprises.

Emerson Shaw found it necessary to nudge the corpse with his boot just to be sure.

"Do ye mind not doin' that?" said Hars.

"Heh," said Emerson. "With the way things are going around here, that's no guarantee we won't be having breakfast with 'im tomorrow morning."

Emerson gave the corpse one good kick. And then added another for good measure.

"He was stable when we left him, Thane. What did you do?"

"It wasn't me! He had some things to say... important enough to pop your stitches sayin' 'em."

"How does this feel?" Hemingway asked. Gallows was seated before him with one arm outstretched. Hemingway had him by the wrist, and was tapping the tip of the archer's index finger with his own.

"Like you're driving a metal spike under my fingernail."

"Mmmhmmm," said Hemingway. "That's what it should feel like." He let Gallows's hand drop. The archer winced when his hand hit his lap. "Mild frostbite. Feeling is returning, so that's good. The pain will get worse, but you probably won't loose the fingers. Maybe a fingernail or two."

"That's good to know," Gallows said stoically.

"This could have been a lot worse," Hemingway continued, even though Gallows wasn't listening. He turned around and aimed the last few words at Hars. "For all of us."

"Aye," Has grunted. The leader of the Night's Bloom frowned at the closed kitchen door that separated them from their employer. "We trusted that bastard, and he almost got us killed," he growled.


"Which bastard are we talking about here?" said Emerson.

"Both. But mainly N'Doki. If it weren't for that kid we'd-"

"Still be just as alive as we are now," said Gallows. "The town would be gone, but not us. His magic protected us."

"Taking his side, are you?"

"Just pointing out the facts. His motives may be different than you think. He didn't leave us to die-"

"But the rest of the town was just out of luck, eh?" said Hemingway. "All these innocent people, and he saves US? US? A bunch of thieves? Hell, there's not a man among us that's REALLY worth saving, if you think about it."

"I resent that!" Emerson peeped.

"Maybe he did think about it," said Gallows. "Maybe he came to the same conclusion... about the town."

"Why are we working for this man?" said Thane.

"Long story," said Hars. "Actually it isn't. Me and Rivus threw in with him when he came to Montfort. And once ye get in with a man like that, the only way out is usually not to yer likin. When you lads joined up... you became part of the deal."

"Yeah," said Emerson. "But the DEAL didn't mention ghosts and monsters! Just gold! Lots and lots of gold! So far, I haven't seen a lot of gold... but monsters, HOOOO-BOY! We hit the MOTHERLOAD!"

"Keep your voice down," said Hars. "The kid is sleeping upstairs."

"Can we go back to Montfort now? I like the monsters THERE a lot better than the ones HERE. There's this one lizard-thing that really has a nice-"

"Can't see much of a reason to stay," Hemingway interrupted. "We've made a big enough mess. And that thing is dead now. Isn't it, Gallows?"

Gallows didn't answer.

"Gallows...?"

Gallows exhaled slowly and looked at the curtains drawn over the living room windows. He didn't say anything.

"It IS dead... isn't it?"

"I don't know," he finally answered. "I could never really sense it all that clearly, except when it was attacking. When it was underground, it was too... too spread out. I think the roots must have dispersed its consciousness-"

"So is it DEAD or NOT?"

"I don't feel it. But that doesn't mean it isn't down there."

"Yes it does, because December yanked it up out of the ground and kicked it's ass! We ALL saw that! And it certainly looked dead to me!"

"But according to the old man, its been dead before," said Thane. "What's to stop it from coming back again?"

"And what brought it back THIS time?" Hemingway added.

"...and how does ANY of that concern US," said Emerson. "If it isn't dead, or if it comes back... FINE! Let it eat up the whole town, for all I care! WE won't be here to worry about it! Right? We ARE leaving now, aren't we?"

"If December is here to worry about it, then we will be, too," Hemingway replied. "And since we don't know what brought him here to begin with, we can't really say if his business is done or not."

"Oh, I think its done," said Hars. He got up, strapped on his swords, and started toward the kitchen. "If it isn't, then he'll be handling the rest of it himself. Him and that damned mage of his."

"Are you sure you want to go in there?" Gallows called after him. Hars paused... he looked back at the archer.

"Is there some reason I shouldn't?"

"There's a lot of pain on the other side of that door."

"So you're saying he's still...?" Hemingway began.

"Insane? No, just..." Gallows shook his head. "Not quite... settled."

"If he's sane, then he'll listen to reason," said Hars. "If its ONE thing that December listens to, its reason. Everybody wait here."

"Don't worry," said Emerson. "After what I saw out there, I wouldn't go in there for all the money in the world. Well... maybe..."

---

A thin layer of frost clung to the kitchen walls. The ice on the floor hadn't quite built up enough to make walking dangerous. The air was sharp and crisp... painfully so... but neither of the room's two occupants seemed to notice the cold.

December's experience beneath Bephal had shredded most of his clothing. Now, instead of a wealthy jewel merchant, he looked like an aging vagrant... a vagrant with pale and slightly bluish skin. His large frame rested in a chair that was both too small and too fragile for his bulk. It protested loudly with every movement... but those movements were few. December was tired. Weariness pulled at him from all sides, and the mere act of opening his mouth to speak was an effort for which he had neither the energy nor the desire.

"How do you feel," said N'Doki. The breath of the necromancer's words rose from his lips like a thin, visible whisper. N'Doki had dismissed his priestly illusion, exposing his shriveled, leathery skin to the biting air without a single shiver or goosebump.

"Tired," December said after a long pause.

N'Doki ran his clawed fingers across December's chest... circling the mouth-like wounds that the creature's tentacles had left behind. The necromancer prodded the torn skin and nodded.

"De wounds close quickly," he said. "Even for you..."

"The poison must accelerate healing." December's voice was barely a whisper. "So that its victims will not bear scars to give them away."

"Victims? You tink dere are odders?"

"Many," said December. N'Doki peeled away more of his rags to examine the wounds on his sides. "I know what was done to me. Knowing that, it is an obvious conclusion that it has been done before... perhaps many times."

"And what WAS done to you?"

"It creates monsters from men," said December. "It hates this town for reasons I do not yet know."

"Nor should we care..." N'Doki mumbled almost under his breath.

"It expresses that hatred by plucking men from their homes.. and transforming them into... creatures. Creatures that wear human form on the outside, but are filled with poison within. This... this is how a simple-minded boy can be a serial rapist and murderer. This is how..."

Too many words. December paused to catch his breath.

"How what?" N'Doki moved to December's other side. The feel of the necromancer's claws on his skin would have driven other men into fits of wild screaming. To December, they had an almost tranquilizing effect. Almost.

"Trisk," December said. "I think he may have been a victim as well. It would explain much about his history."

"But you haf not answered my question," said N'Doki. "What was done... to YOU?"

"I find it... difficult to believe that you do not already know."

"Indulge me," said N'Doki.

"Somehow it... it is aware of magic on the surface. It knows power. It knew me. It captured me and..."

Again, too many words.

"And what?"

"I do not wish to discuss it."

"You waste t'oughts on de creature and dis town. On wedder or not Trisk was himself or not when you knew him. But you spend no effort to heal your own wounds."

"The wounds heal-"

"De ODDER wounds. De wounds not of de flesh."

"I was taken to places I had left behind long ago. Places I did not wish to see again. I was taken there against my will... and violated. For a moment it was... too much. But I have recovered."

"You are a fool."

"I have no energy for games," December sighed. "Tell me what you wish me to say, and I will say it."

"What did it show you?"

December squirmed in his chair... eliciting a series of loud moans and a soft 'crack' from the aging... and frozen.... wood.

The air in the room grew slightly colder.

Since he had 'regained himself,' December had been fighting valiantly against the tide of scalding images that still splashed against the back of his mind. Flashes of Reynaldo, and Jessica, and a hundred other ghosts from his past were daggers twisting in his thoughts. But he had been fighting them. And he had been winning.

"No," he said. "There is nothing there that you do not already know-"

"But dere are t'ings dat YOU do not know. Else you would have gone insane long ago."

"...drugs..." said December. "A chemical insanity fed into my body with tubes and poisons-"

"Dat is what you will believe," said N'Doki. "Tomorrow. But for now, I will not let you believe such silliness."

"I told you." December leaned forward and rested his head in his hands. There was the slightest hint of pleading buried within the weariness of his voice. "No games. No riddles. I do not have the strength."

"Den tell me what you saw." N'Doki took advantage of December's position to examine the wounds on his back.

"I saw my wife," December said finally. A cold edge crept into his voice... and from his voice, it crept into the air and eased the temperature even lower. "I saw her die. Hundreds... thousands of times. Reynaldo's betrayal."

The names jabbed at December's mind, prodding thoughts and emotions that were not yet stilled from there last disastrous awakening.

"All of it," December said with an unconscious shudder. "You know the names; I see no point in repeating them."

"Disturbing," N'Doki said. "But dese t'ings are not enough to drive you mad, even for a short time. I train you better dan dat."

"I told you, there was poison-"

"De creature use you as a pawn!" N'Doki slithered around in front of December and hissed into his face. "Is dat what December is, now? Is dat all dat is required... a few hours of unpleasant memories? Is de cost of your power so cheap dat any creature can own it now wit mere names and images? Dis creature dat hates Bephal, it is none of our concern! None at all! But N'Doki bring you here as a WARNING! And now... now dat you haf been rescued by one of your ENEMIES... you sit here and wallow in pity instead of seeking the lessons dat you were meant to learn!"

December slowly raised his head and focused a suddenly stern gaze on the necromancer.

"Save your false concern for one who does not know you," he said coldly. "Your displeasure is not with me, but with the fact that this creature has somehow succeeded where you and your years of scheming have failed."

"Now it is you dat speaks riddles-"

"Dance, necromancer... dance around the truth if you wish. You and this creature are no different than the Warlord who set this curse upon me. You all want Drya's power at your beck and call... to unleash upon your enemies. You have been grooming me into your personal weapon since the day we met. What happened long ago, and what almost happened to Bephal today... you would inflict THAT upon the cities of the men who enslaved you. And now you question me not for my sake... but so YOU can learn how best to control me."

"N'Doki is not so simple as dat. I haf power and weapons beyond your imagining. My gods are more powerful dan Drya-"

"And that is the source of your fascination with me," said December. "YOUR power is measured and allotted to you by your 'spirits,' but I am a resource that they do not control. I am power that you can own free and clear. With me, you can FINALLY obtain what your 'spirits' have forbidden all these years: The complete annihilation of your enemies."

N'Doki laughed in December's face.

"Perhaps you are confusing N'Doki wit yourself, eh? N'Doki acts in obedience to doze dat created him. It is YOU, godling... it is YOU dat is de rebellious son, turning your back on both potential and destiny. De creature has shown you the RESULT of dat disobedience. All of de pain... all of the betrayal... all because you pretend to be somet'ing dat you are not."

"Now you speak lies, necromancer."

"Do I? Does de godling forget de cure? To turn your back is not enough. No..." N'Doki gave a hearty laugh. "No, YOU wish to give de power BACK! To have your destiny RIPPED out of your very blood! And do you remember what horrors DAT foolishness brought down upon you? You learn your lesson den... many years ago. But now, now you wish for de softness of humanity again. Now you FORGET what happen before. Perhaps it is time you learn dat again?"

"Speak no further, N'Doki. Now is not the time-"

"Now IS de time! Now! Now... because the time for illusions is almost done! Soon dere will come a choosing! You wish to know why N'Doki is so concerned? Because I haf been watching you DESTROY yourself! In dese past years you haf become a pitiful shadow of what you haf worked so hard to become. De woman-"

"You do not mention her in my pre-"

"N'DOKI SPEAKS NOW! De woman is not de cause; she is but a symptom. One of many symptoms of a weakness growing wit'in you!"

"Weakness?" said December. "What you see as weakness, I would call-"

"What?!" N'Doki spat. "De return of your humanity? BAH! You are not a man!!" N'Doki's hand swept across the side of December's face, and December felt a single curved claw dig into his skin. The necromancer held the small talon before December's eyes. Hanging from the pointed tip was a single drop of thick blue liquid.

Blood.

"Dis," said N'Doki. "DIS is de blood of a GOD!"

December grabbed N'Doki's wrist and held it. He held it still so that they could both see the drop of December's blue blood slowly deepen and turn red.

"...and that is the blood of a man," said December. "You would have me forsake the first and embrace the second... for what? Your benefit? Your amusement?" December thrust N'Doki's hand away. "Do not touch me again."

"Nooo, not for N'Doki. For you. Everyt'ing you endure, you endure because you turn away from what you are. Had you embraced the legacy in your blood, you would have suffered none of de-"

"No more," December sighed. This was a conversation he had had before. He didn't like it... he didn't like the nagging implications of truth in the necromancer's words. HAD he brought all of this onto himself? Yes. Of course he had. But the alternative....

"Yes, more," N'Doki replied. "Whether you accept it or not, dere is a power wit'in you."

"You think me such a fool that I do not know of what I am capable?"

"No... but you ARE de fool dat t'inks dat it can be controlled wit WEAKNESS instead of strength! You do not wish to embrace de power of Drya's curse? Dat is YOUR decision.... but KNOW dat de power must be controlled! Can it be done? Yes... but only by de man dat you WERE, and not de man dat you are becomming! De further you stray into pity... mercy... love... empathy... de weaker you become. Dese t'ings eat away at de reins... dey weaken de foundation of what you are! You are now so weak dat you can be used by mindless creatures under de ground! So weak dat you cannot even face de truth about your own soul... de truth that there is a part of you dat WANTS de power... dat revels in it! De December of twenty... no, not twenty... TEN years ago would face dat truth wit iron will, but YOU... YOU it drove INSANE!"

And there it was. The truth. The necromancer had spent many words to get to this point, but now he thrust the painful truth into December's heart with the simple efficiency.

And, once again, he was right. December was not so far gone that he didn't realize simple truth. He remembered every inch of what the creature had shown him. He remembered exactly what it was that had driven him to the edge. Venom? Poisonous evil pumped into his veins? That was merely the nourishment for the seed he already carried within him. The rampage that nearly destroyed Bephal was not *injected* into him. It WAS him. It had always been there. Denying it was so simple... so effortless... that he had done so for decades without even realizing it. But now denial had become something else. Something unhealthy. Something so self deceiving that the merest glimpse of the truth had shattered him like a mirror.

"Now you see," said N'Doki. "Dat your new affection for dose around you will be your undoing. In de years past, you would only occasionally indulge in dis fantasy of being a man like any odder. Now? Now it has become a habit. And it will soon become... terminal."

"And how do you suggest we resolve this problem? Would you have me abandon the first glimpse of happiness I have had in years? Would you have me turn my back on the woman that I..."

"Say it. " N'Doki frowned with unveiled distaste.

"...love?"

"Your senses haf not yet recovered," said N'Doki. "Your thoughts are still soft from de poison."

"They are," December agreed. "What am I missing?"

"Your own past," said N'Doki. "You will destroy dis woman just as you haf destroyed everyone ELSE who dared disturb dat dangerous heart of yours."

"Others?.

"Do I name de names... or shall you?"

"No, this will be different-"

"Different how? Different because now you are WEAKER than you were? Different because now you haf LESS control over yourself? Heh... perhaps de poison soften your brain more dan I t'ought."

"I have control," said December.

"Really?" N'Doki paused and smiled. "Ahhh, yes... N'Doki forget! It was de POISON dat drove you insane! Yes! Poison..."

The smile suddenly vanished, and N'Doki was once again hissing angrily in December's face.

"When you deny Drya's power, you chose a life of pain for yourself. Dat life will destroy everyone around you... as it has done for more years dan most of its victims could count. It will not stop now just because you haf re-discovered your heart. Your 'discovery' will only make you less able to endure what comes. Even now, you turn your back on de past dat made you strong. But dere are odder t'ings in dat past, December.... t'ings dat it is best not to forget."

"Everyone in that past is dead," said December. "So why not let it dies as well?"

"Because de past never dies, godling. It only sleeps. Bephal is learning dat lesson now, and N'Doki bring you here so YOU can learn it as well. But de eyes of dis 'new December' are too blind to see what takes place around you."

December's thoughts began to swirl together... drawn by something N'Doki had just said. Something he HAD been saying ever since they'd arrived.

"This trip was unnecessary," said December. "We have no business here."

"Haf I not said dat before? Did you not listen?"

"But you insisted that I come. You knew the creature was here, didn't you. You knew that it would take me... what it would do to me."

"Perhaps"

"No 'perhaps'! You KNEW! You and your schemes... your 'lessons'! Why expend the small effort to simply EXPLAIN something when you can have me KIDNAPPED and DRIVEN MAD instead!"

"When was de last time dat you actually LISTEN to N'Doki, eh?"

December rose from his chair and advanced threateningly through the wall of chilled air between him and the necromancer.

"Your treason will-"


"What will you do?" The sinister smile returned to N'Doki's face as he stood his ground. "Kill me? What is it dat men say... about history repeating itself? Perhaps N'Doki fetch a tub of water..."

The bottom fell out of December's stomach. N'Doki was a master of causing pain and suffering with magic. Apparently, he was equally skilled with words.

"You ask N'Doki what HE knew," the necromancer continued. "But who was it dat dropped willingly into de creature's grasp? How foolish was DAT, eh? You feel so much for dis town of strangers dat you place yourself in harm's way for dem? Yes, N'Doki knew it... but YOU are de fool dat DID it! NOW SIT DOWN!!"

December sat.

"Damn you," he said. "To hell. Again."

"Hmph. N'Doki try and teach you a painful lesson now to save you much worse later.... and do I get thanks? No! I get t'reats and curses!"

"What 'worse'? What 'later'? What is this all about? What is it that you know that you feel the need to prepare me for?"

"Your past," N'Doki said simply.

"You are overly concerned with the past, N'Doki."

"And December is not concerned enough. DIS December is not concerned.... but de boy dat I raise into a man, HE knew better dan to ignore what came before!"

"You? Raised me? You take credit for things to which you have no claim. I was a man when I met you-"

"HA! You were a BOY! Foolish and crying wit pain... trembling wit power dat you could not control! It was N'DOKI dat took you in... hid you from de Warlord... taught you de ways of control and survival. And DAT is what I do even to dis day!"

"So you would have me believe."

"Believe what you wish. But imagine what you would now be if it were not for N'Doki. You t'ink you would be HAPPY now? Eh? Eh? You AND your power would be enslaved-"

"I will not fight with you now. If you wish to have this discussion, then we will have it in Montfort."

"Discussion!" N'Doki spat the word out of his mouth. "To dis new December... a FIGHT is now a DISCUSSION! But dere will BE no discussion when your past rises up to smite you! You will fight a REAL fight... wit de shedding of blood and terror... or you will die!"

"Your problem," December said quietly. "Is that you speak too much... and say too little. If these riddles about my past have any meaning, then speak them clearly... if you can."

"De meaning is as clear as it will ever be. If you do not yet understand, den watch Bephal. Watch de city... because de city is you."

"Another riddle. And what of the ruse that brought me here? News of some disturbance that concerned me... was that a lie to get me here?"

"No," said N'Doki.

"Then, since you are free to stand there and weave riddles, am I to assume you have investigated this 'disturbance' and can report your findings to me?"

"When N'Doki haf time to do dat, eh? N'Doki too busy 'protecting de innocent' and 'helping de children.'"

"Go then. Find what there is to find... and leave me."

N'Doki folded his thin arms across his chest.

"...and de mighty December is now so feeble dat he cannot even win a 'discussion'... heh..."

"I-"

N'Doki was gone.

---


"This way! I saw 'im go in here!"

Following his mother's orders to stay together, Jacob Marity stopped running just long enough for his younger sister to catch up to him. Jan rounded the corner just a few seconds after he did... keeping up quite well for a six-year-old.

"Hurry!" Jacob called, waving one hand furiously at his sister while pointing the other in the direction he had been running. "You run like a girl! You're letting him get away!"

The fact that Jan WAS a girl was not lost on Jacob. Jan hated being called what she was, especially when it implied that she was inferior at something. And ESPECIALLY when the person doing the implying was her twin brother.

"I wanna see the puppy!" Jan pouted as she caught up. She didn't quite make it. When she was close enough for Jacob's rather loose interpretation of their mother's instructions, he took off running again.

"This way!"

"JAY-COB!" Jan whined. She watched his brother zip past the old bakery, heading for alley between it and the next. "WAIT!"

Just before Jacob would have vanished into the alley... he stopped.

"HURRY UP!" This time, Jacob was pouting. He sighed and aimed his eyes upward at the sky, intentionally not looking at his sister.

"Is it in there?" Jan pointed at the alley.

"Yeah, I saw him run in!"

"Are you sure?"

"Where ELSE is it gonna go?"

Jan looked up and down the street. There were people all around... most of them walking the same direction that their mother had gone earlier. Everyone was excited about something, but whatever it was was 'grown-people business'... as their mother called it. While Jacob was curious as to what everyone was talking about, his experience had taught him that all 'grown-people business' was either confusing, boring, or both. He wanted no part of it.

Ahhh, but PUPPIES were another matter altogether!

He had spotted the small black dog just as it wandered past their house. It was sniffing lazily around the fence-posts, and Jacob thought that catching it... and maybe keeping it... would be simple. Child's play, even for a child. And it would have been, too, if it hadn't been for his exceedingly slow sister.

"I dunno," Jan said reluctantly. "Mommy said to stay at the house."

"She did? I didn't hear her say that..." True... Jacob hadn't been listening at the time. "...she said to stay together, and we're together! And why would she say to stay together if she didn't want us to GO anywhere?"

Jan frowned... but her brother's genius won her over. She stopped worrying about what their mother had said and started worrying about the eerie shadows which may or may not be concealing the puppy that her brother SWORE he saw.

"Do we have to go in there?"

"Noooo, I'll get it and bring it out." Jacob started into the alley.

"JAY-COB!"

"WHAT!?!"

"Mommy said to stay-"

"Then come WITH me! Sheesh, you're such a GIRL!"

Jacob reluctantly... and obediently... held out his hand. Jan took it, and they started in.

Jan stopped suddenly.

"I'm scared!"

"Dammit!"

"OOOO, I'm gonna tell mommy you used a bad word!"

"It's not a bad word if mommy uses it!"

"Yes it-"

Catching his sister by surprise, Jacob yanked her into the alley in mid-argument.

"-HEY! Stop pulling!"

The medium-gray light of the morning sky faded to a darker, almost charcoal color. The alley wasn't completely dark; there was enough light to see almost everything in it... but not quite enough to see what everything WAS. Empty barrels from the bakery lined one wall... and in the near-darkness they resembled a line of short, but burly-chested soldiers.


"Dwarves..." Jacob mused aloud.

"WHERE!?" Jan squealed in terror. "WHERE!?"

"Shut uuuuuup." Jacob pulled her further in. His eyes left the barrels and began scanning the ground ahead of him. "He's gotta be in here somewhere."

"I don't think there IS a puppy!" Jan pulled him back toward the street. "I wanna go home!"

"There is, I swear!"

Jan began to yank repeatedly on her brother's arm.

"I don't wanna see it if I have to go in here-"

"Pull me again and I'll let your hand go and run away and leave you in here."

Jan stopped pulling.

Just then, something further in the alley moved. It was a tiny movement, like something rustling through some rags.

Or maybe it was a sniffing sound.

Jan gasped.

"See, I told you!" Jacob said with a smile. "Its way in the back."

"Maybe we should wait 'til he comes out."

Jacob ignored his sister and pulled her along after him as he moved ahead. The shifting/sniffing sound came again... followed by an unmistakably canine 'snort'.

"Heehee!" Jan giggled.

The light didn't quite reach the last few feet of the alley. The last yard or so was hidden behind a wall of shadow that should have given any child pause.

Except, perhaps, a child on the hunt for a free puppy.

Jacob crept onward as if trying to sneak up on the darkness itself. With every step, the rustling from *somewhere* up ahead grew louder. There was more sniffing, and even a snort. There was also a soft wet sound... like voracious licking. Or chewing.

"Must be some bread back there," Jacob whispered.

"Maybe we should leave him alone if he's eating-" Jan said too loudly.

Every sound in the alley stopped. It was a hard, ugly kind of silence.

"Shhhh... he heard us..."

"He's not gonna bite us is he?"

"Shhhhh..."

Jacob inched forward.

The darkness responded with a single, soft rustle. The sound of movement.

Jacob let go of his sister's hand got down on his knees.

"Here, boy..." Jacob whispered. He held out his hand... almost grazing the wall of darkness with his fingers. He made soft, kissing noises that he assumed was the proper way to call a dog. "...c'mon. We won't hurt ya! We just wanna play! C'mon boy!"

*snif* said the darkness. *sniff-sniff*

"That doesn't sound like a puppy, Jacob."

"C'mon boy... c'mere puppy! Don't be scared!"

"Jacob, get up. I wanna go home."

"I'll find it," Jacob said as he stood upright. "You stay here."

"No!"

The darkness interrupted them with a long, slow hiss.

"Huh?" the twins said together.

"...ssscared?" said a voice that was not the darkness, but something that was hiding within it. Something that spoke with a hiss that was equal parts cat and snake.

Jan and Jacob backed away. Quickly.

"PUPPY!" said the thing.

Something flew out of the darkness at the twins. Jacob didn't have time to see it. All he caught was a brief glimpse of fur before it was on them-

It hit Jan in the chest with a soft, wet thump before sliding down into her startled hands. The girl caught it almost accidentally. Both of the twins looked down the headless puppy. Its tiny chest had been torn open, and its insides-

SPLAT!

-splattered across the side of Jacob's shocked face.

"PUPPY!" the thing in the alley hissed. The thing followed its own voice out of the alley... leaping at the children as if the darkness had reared back and SPAT it out at them.

Jacob saw it first.

Jan's eyes were still locked on the puppy, but her brother had looked up and he SAW what was coming for them.

The sudden flash of absolute terror was almost his undoing. For half of a heartbeat, the boy could not move. But self-preservation snatched control away from his fear-jammed brain and moved for him.

Jacob's hand shot out and grabbed his sister's wrist.

Her brother's touch snapped Jan's attention away from the corpse. She looked up-

-and screamed.

"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

Jacob had already spun around, putting his back to the monster. By gods, if that thing was going to catch him, it was going to catch him FROM BEHIND!!!

The boy's legs started moving. There was a brief, stumbling uncertainty... a resistance that nearly snatched the sanity right out of Jacob's skull. But then it was gone.... and so was Jacob.

The boy blasted out of the alley like a cannon-shot. His wailing scream stopped adults in their tracks for two blocks in every direction. Men and women came running... but none of them was anywhere NEAR as fast as Jacob.

The boy was ten steps into the daylight before he remembered Jan.

Jan... his sister.
Jan... who's voice he could NOT hear screaming alongside his own.

Still running, Jacob looked behind him. His body was so numb with terror that he couldn't FEEL his sister's hand clutched in his own. But there it was.

But there was no sister attached to it.

---

"I've never been so happy to see my own room," Floyd D'Arcy said as he flopped down in his chair.

"Don't get used to it," said Francesca. "This is the only room in the house that those.... those PEOPLE haven't destroyed. I don't think it'll last much longer."

"Nonsense," Floyd chuckled. "We've still got the living room and the kitchen."

"That's not funny. How can you be funny at a time like this?!"


"Time like what?" Floyd twisted in his chair to look at Francesca. "Time like WHAT? It's over, girl! Whatever hell descended on this town is over and done with now... and do you know who we have to thank for that?"

"I know who I have to thank," said Francesca. "Dorath Chesterson."

Floyd's limbs stiffened so suddenly that it looked as if he were having a convulsion. He opened his mouth... frowned... frowned some more... and then managed to cough:

"...what?!"

"If that thing was Dorath-"

"It was."

"Then he saved my life! Those roots had me, but he broke them and let me escape. He saved me! If he hadn't, then I'd have ended up like..."

Floyd knew that she was about to say 'Cordelia,' but the words changed as they left her lips.

"...a lot of other people."

"Well right after he finished saving your hide, he cornered ME and tried to rip MINE right off of my body! So don't go making him into some kind of hero-"

"Do you blame him?" Francesca snapped. "After what you and Gandrick did to him?"

"-After what HE did to YOU! You and a lot of other women in this town!?"

"If it was true, then you could have... you could have done something ELSE. Not what you did that night Nobody deserved that, especially Dorath. He was always so nice to me-"

"Wait just a minute, young lady... did you just say 'IF'? IF it's true?!"

"Father, I never saw-"

"I saw it! I saw it with my own eyes!"

On the bed, Casey rolled over and opened his eyes. Only half-awake, he squinted at his grandfather and then drifted back off to sleep.

Floyd continued in whispers.

"-I saw him that night! And you did, too! You said-"

"I was confused; I don't know what... or who..."

"You did see him. He was there... Yes or no?"

"Yes, but-"

"Then he's guilty! He did it!"

"Father, he loved me!"

"And I love you, too! And when I saw that monster touch you-"

"If he was a monster that night, then what you did to him made him even MORE of one! If you hadn't... hadn't TORTURED him, then maybe his soul could have rested in peace!"

Floyd leveled a cold gaze at his daughter.

"My only regret about that night is that I told YOU about it. But he raped you, and I thought you needed to know that he'd never bother you or anyone else again. Perhaps I should have kept the details to myself."

"Maybe you should have."

Francesca tucked the sheets in around Casey.

"Mommy, what are you talking about?" he mumbled.

"Shhh... nothing, go back to sleep."

Casey did as directed. He couldn't have done otherwise; he hadn't been able to remain conscious for more than a few seconds at a time since the spirit had left him.

"I still feel sorry for him," said Francesca.

"For who?"

"You know who."

"Sorry? You feel SORRY-"

"You tortured him!"

"Yes, I know. I was there."

"Guilty or not, nobody deserves that! Nobody!"

Floyd sighed. There had been a hint of anger in his voice earlier, but now there was only weariness.

"You're a woman," he said.

"What does that mean-"

"It means you don't understand a man's heart! You women... always babbling about how mysterious you are and how men can never understand you... well that works both ways. When a man gets hurt that bad... that deep... Something happens to him that you just can't understand. Something either dies... or something wakes up. Maybe both. It's more than just wanting to put the pain back onto the person that caused it. That's not enough. You want to destroy it. You want to destroy the pain... rip it out and smash it. You want to rip the pain out of your own heart and... and I can tell this isn't making any sense to you."

"I just can't believe you're trying to justify what you did!"

"-no, I'm not trying to justify anything! That's just it! The part inside that needs justification... THATS the part that dies first! After that, everything becomes so easy-"

"Torture? Murder?"

"Without one shred of guilt. Not a drop of conscience. You want pity or remorse for that bastard Chesterson? Well I have none to give. What he did earned him a permanent place in hell."

"Codelia said to me once that vengeance-"

"If by some miracle you ever find a man that will marry you, you would do well to FORGET any of Cordelia's advice. Especially concerning men."

"Father! She was mother's best friend, how can you be so mean!"

"Well she wasn't good enough a friend. If she was, she would have stopped your mother before-"

Floyd stopped himself and let the sentence go unfinished. Francesca wasn't looking at him any more.

"-I'm sorry," he said.

Whatever Francesca was about to say... if anything... was interrupted by a high-pitched scream from outside. It was the loud, wailing scream of a child.

---

"What in-?" Hars spun around just as his hand touched the kitchen door. The sound that had stopped him hadn't come from the other side of the door... but from outside.

Gallows was already on his feet.

"Fear," said the assassin. "Child... very close."

"Can you-" Hars began.

"If you can keep up." Gallows finished.

"What? We aren't going out there again, are we?" said Emerson.

The kitchen door opened. Hars was suddenly submerged in a wave of painfully frigid air.

"Gah!" Hars backed away as December entered the room.

"What did I hear? Was that a child or... a hallucination."

"We heard it too," said Hemingway. "Its close."

December frowned.

"How close?"

"Across the street. Three buildings down," said Gallows.

"What about J'Hasp," said Hars. "He's out there, isn't he? Maybe somebody saw-"

"J'Hasp is scouting the area," said December. "But he would not have been seen unless he wished to be. Hars, investigate and report back. Quickly."

"What was that SOUND!" Floyd D'Arcy hobbled quickly down the stairs. "Is some one in trouble!? Thing isn't BACK is it?"

"We're about to find out. Gallows. Hemingway. Emerson. You lads come with me. And December?"

"Yes?"

"If this turns out to be nothing, then we're going to have a little talk about-"

"We are leaving," said December. "If this is nothing, then we have no further reason to remain in Bephal."

"Good. Lads...

"What about me?" said Thane. "There could be a fight, and I'm not sitting ANOTHER one out!"

"Ye are if I say ye are," said Hars. "We'll be right back."

"Great." Thane sat down in the chair that Gallows had just vacated. "At this rate I'll die of boredom."

"And what a horrible death THAT would be..."

Thane looked up and saw Gallows grinning down at him.

---

At first glance, it appeared to be a kidnapping.

There was a large semi-circle of people surrounding an older man... who was forcibly holding a squirming child against the child's will. The man's hand was clamped over the young boy's mouth, keeping him quiet while the man spoke with the people around him.

Standing next to him was a woman.

Gallows pointed her out as the Night's Bloom approached.

"Mother."

"That's your MOTHER!? She's pretty..."

Hemingway's elbow 'accidentally' collided with the side of Emerson Shaw's head.

"ow! Watch it!"

"She's about to faint."

"I'll catch her!"

"She doesn't look like she's got anything in her pockets, little brother."

"Oh. Well never mind, then."

When they got within talking distance of the crowd, Gallows veered away toward one of the buildings. Hars reached out and grabbed the archer's arm.

"No need for snipers just yet. We'll stick together."

"I don't like crowds," Gallows said sternly. "Especially emotional ones."

"You'll live."

"Oh, but I love crowds!"

A few people on the edge of the mob turned toward them.

"Who are you?"

"We come in peace-"

"Just a few heavily-armed visitors to your little town here," said Hars. "Looked like something's going on, so we thought we might be of assistance."

A whisper rustled through the crowd, but it was not caused by the arrival of the Night's Bloom. As soon as they had walked up, the man holding the boy had handed the youth over to someone else. Someone handed him a lamp, and he went boldly into the alley.

The boy... with no hand covering his mouth... began to scream hysterically. His mother tried to calm him-

"SHE'S DEAD! SHE'S DEAD! SHE'S DEAD!" the boy screamed.

The mother fainted.

The crowd drew in around her, and a few women pulled her away and attempted to wake her up. Another man quickly clamped his hand over the boy's mouth.

"Excuse me, do I know you?"

And old woman... well into her seventies... was now accosting Hars and Hemingway

"No, ma'am," said Hars. He looked curiously at Hemingway and the others. "I don't think so."

"We're strangers!" said Emerson. "Oh, but what lovely jewelry you have-"

"Seems like we've met somewhere. A Long time ago, maybe? But you-"

She pointed at Hemingway.

"Your face had... or maybe I'm mistaken."

"What's going on here?" asked Hars.

"Boy says a monster got his sister."

"What kind of monster?" Hars, Hemingway, Emerson, and Gallows all said at once. Their chorus made the woman laugh. "Oh, look at you... like a bunch of eager heroes!"

"Heroes? Not us!"

"Just curious, ma'am."

"Well he didn't really say much, but there was the matter of the... ummm... there was a hand."

"A hand!?"

"That's what they say; but I haven't seen it."

"I found something!" the man in the alley called.

"WHAT, WHAT IS IT!!?" The boy's mother had awakened just in time to hear the announcement. She promptly went hysterical.

The old woman hurried off to help calm her down.

"Strange," Gallows said when she left. "She knew us."

"From where?"

"No idea... but she definitely knew us."

"MY GODS!" came a shout from the alley. "It's blood! Blood everywhere! And-"

There was a pause. A very... long... uncomfortable... pause.

"What do you see?" a man in the crowd crept forward.

"Let's go," said Hars. He started shoving people aside as the Night's Bloom headed for the alley. "Step aside-"

"AAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIGGGGHH!" It was a man's scream. And it was coming from the alley.

The entire crowd moved back with one, surging motion, that carried the Night's Bloom along with it.

-Emerson Shaw took that opportunity to pick the pockets of the people nearest to him-

And then something staggered out of the alley. It had been a man at one time, but now half of its face hung in tatters from its bloody skull. The man's shirt... and the chest beneath it... had been flayed open in four long, deep slashes that could only have been made with claws. A similar fate had befallen his throat. Bright-red blood gushed from the man's ruined neck as he stumbled and fell to his knees.

He grabbed his throat and made a series of gurgling sounds as blood spurted from between his fingers. His lips flapped uselessly for several painful seconds before they finally managed a word-

"...p-pieces..."

And then he collapsed.

When he hit the earth, something else came out of the alley... not towards the crowd, but leaping/crawling upward over the roof of the bakery. It was fast. Most of the crowd did not see it. Those that did, caught only a blur of motion and a quick glimpse of a shape that was not... not completely... human.

"This is where they all start screaming," said Gallows. The archer closed his eyes and squinted against the roar of emotion an instant before it reached his ears.

The crowd screamed. Gallows swooned... looking as if he was about to join the dead man on the ground.

"...get me out of here..." he said. No one heard him.

The crowd had begun to scatter. Hars and Hemingway were forcing their way forward through the tide of fleeing townspeople. Emerson wove through the crowd, taking an indirect route to the alley... a route that took him past the optimal number of pockets before arriving.

"To hell with it," said Gallows. He turned and walked away. "...say I don't like crowds, and it never occurs to them that its for a reason. All this damned noise in my head..."

"What did this?" Hars said a few seconds later. He knelt beside the dead man and rolled the corpse onto its back to get a better look at its throat.

"Looks like claws," Hemingway replied.

"I was afraid you'd say that."

"Three sets of slashes," Hemingway pointed to the dead man. "Chest, face, and throat. It was fast and mean, whatever it was. Four claws on each hand..."

Hars stood, frowning... and nodding.

"Wasn't a man that did that, that's for sure."

"He have anything in his pockets?" said Emerson. He was sporting three new rings and a necklace that he hadn't been wearing before. His pockets bulged with stolen items and looted coin purses.

"Didn't look," Hemingway replied.

"Hmph. And you call yourselves thieves-" Emerson reached for the corpse, but his brother caught him by the back of the neck. "-ACK!"

"Leave that one alone, little brother. You've done enough damage for one trip."

"Nonsense-"

"Let's see what's in there." Hars drew one of his swords and followed the short trail of blood into the alley. Hemingway slid the hammer off of his belt and followed, but he didn't make it into the alley before Hars came back out. The seasoned fighter's normally reddened face was several shades lighter, and had a sickly tint to it.

"You lads don't want to go in there," said Hars.

"What was it?"

"If we put all the pieces together, ye might get a little girl... maybe ten years old. Maybe less... hard to tell with that many pieces..."

Emerson gulped.

"What kind of injuries? Same as the man?"

"Claw marks all over everything," said Hars. "The thing that did it was strong. It pulled... It, uhh..."

"I take it this means we aren't going home," said Emerson.

"Not if there's a chance we can catch the bastard that did that," said Hars. "Orders or not... we're stayin'."

Hemingway nodded approvingly.

"Well if this NEW thing is like the LAST thing, then catching it may not be in our best interests," said Emerson. "I mean... do we not remember the last time we tried to fight something in this town? We didn't do so good..."

Hars reached into his pocket and pulled out a single gold coin. He placed the coin on the tip of his thumb and flicked it into the alley.

"Oh, and now we're throwing money away..." Emerson's voice trailed off as he went after the coin. There was an ugly silence, and then Emerson reappeared. The thief's face was as gray as the clouds overhead.

"...okay," he said. "I'm in."

"Now that we're all on one accord..."

Everyone looked toward the sound of the voice. Gallows was perched on the rooftop of one of the buildings, looking back down at them.

"...can we get this hunt underway?"

"Can you track this thing?" said Hars.

Gallows nodded.

"We'll need to give December his status report," said Hars. "Back to the house first, and then-

"Good," said Gallows. "Because that's where it went."

---

The tomb of Berston Groad was as cold and still as it had been when Hemingway Shaw first cracked open its mighty stone slab. Cold and still... but not quiet.

Shadows shifted noisily within the desecrated burial chamber, filling the dusty air with slithering hisses and the faint rattling of not-so-distant bones. Standing among the shadows was something darker. The dry rattling sound grew louder with every shake of the necromancer's closed hand.

"Mmmmm...." N'Doki hummed not in thought, but in the careful intonation of words both unholy and powerful. He punctuated the ancient words with rhythmic jerks of his fist, from which the collection of bones spoke with clicks and rattles.

The bones were of human origin. Some were fresh. So fresh, that one of them was still bloody. Others were older than the graveyard in which the necromancer now stood. All of them had ceremonial markings carved along their surfaces, and when N'Doki tossed the bones onto the dirt, the alignment of those markings told him many things.

"Sssssss..." N'Doki squeezed a gentle stream of air past his ceremonially sharpened teeth. The hiss ended in an odd silence.

N'Doki looked down at the bones he had thrown, and then cocked his head to one side to listen. Listen to the bones... listen to the shadows... Listen to the silence.

"Ahhhh..."

N'Doki knelt. His incredibly lean form folded almost in half as he ran his hand over the dirt.

"...Evil born..." His hand strayed to the right until is brushed against one of the desiccated roots that littered the tomb. Hemingway Shaw had discovered them earlier. The earth told N'Doki of that discovery, and of what came before...

"And from de seed of de corrupted, evil is reborn." N'Doki's hand clutched into a fist; the root he held crumbled to dust. "It rests here, but de power of dis place is gone. Somet'ing has taken it... somet'ing has drank deep of dis place and de t'ing dat lived here. But what? And from where?"

N'Doki listened. Spirits of the earth and the dead were told him more... but not all of it made sense. N'Doki shook his head slowly.

"De fadder has eaten de flesh of de son? Evil reborn is no more... but evil BORN has returned..."

The unheard voices became a chaotic discord. Too many things were speaking at once.

"Shhhhh...." N'Doki placed one clawed finger over his withered lips.

The voices subsided to a murmur.

"Tell N'Doki where... tell N'Doki how..."

The non-sounds that came were full of intensity, but they held no meaning.

"De spirits of dis place do not know."

N'Doki gathered his bones and stood upright. He held the bones before his lips and blew across them.

"Sssseeeeeek..." As the necromancer's breath passed the bones, it thickened into a cloud of black smoke that drifted across the chamber and collected into a small, but foul cloud.

"Seek de place dat knows."

The shapeless cloud floated away. But instead of rising toward the open air, it sank into the ground and disappeared into the dirt.

N'Doki stared at the place where the cloud had vanished-

-and then, he too, was gone.
---

"What's happening now?" said Francesca.

"Looks like they're coming back," said Floyd. He leaned further out of the window to get a better view of the street. "They're running. They must have found something."

"Not again," Francesca sighed. She wiped her son's forehead with a damp cloth, replacing the sweat with cool water. "We can't take much more of this."

"How is he?"

"The fever's getting worse. He's not waking up as much anymore... but that's probably good."

"Gandrick-"

Floyd paused, remembering that Gandrick was dead. The healer's body was cooling in their living room.

Floyd made a mental note to buy a new carpet when this was over.

"-why a town this size would have only one healer, I'll never know. I bet Montfort has thousands!"

"We may be on our way there if this fever doesn't break," said Francesca. "If he can travel..."

"If he can fight monsters, then he can travel just fine. Probably get there before WE do."

"That wasn't him," said Francesca. "Casey couldn't do any of those things. It was the ghosts... they're using him. And its killing him."

"Well they aren't using him right now, so why isn't he better?"

Francesca shrugged.

"Well, if he's got a fever, we need to keep him cool. Maybe we should ask-"

Francesca shot him an evil look.

"-never mind. Bad idea."

"...I can hear them..." Casey's lips moved, and his voice came out in a low rasp. His eyes remained closed.

"Shhh, sleep Casey."

"...they said... they said there's a monster... coming..."

Francesca looked at Floyd...

...and Floyd looked at the door, where the sound of footsteps on the stairs was filtering into the room.

"Speak of the devil," said Floyd.

"Mr. D'Arcy," December's voice called from the hallway. "I wish to speak with you."

Floyd walked over to the door. When he opened it-

-Francesca screamed.

Floyd spun on his heels, glancing first at Francesca's face... then at her hand pointing toward the window... then at the window itself.

There was a THING climbing into the room from outside.

It was shaped almost like a man, but its limbs were longer and thinner. Long, flesh-shredding claws tipped its hands and feet, and its' bulbous head ended in a short snout filled with sharp, slightly curved teeth. Patches of scales and fur dotted its pale, slightly-greenish skin. The creature's long tail swirled slowly through the air behind it as the creature hauled itself into the window and up onto the wall.

Francesca scooped Casey up into her arms, but made no attempt to move. Not yet.

Floyd took a few steps toward her, but his movement caught the creature's attention. The thing was above the window now, hanging from the ceiling like some kind of monstrous insect. Its sharp, animal eyes fixed on him, and Floyd froze.

"...uhhhhh...."

"J'Hasp," said December. The creature turned to December, and Floyd resumed breathing. Moving, however, was still out of the question.

"J'Hasp, what are you doing?" December said in a scolding tone.

The creature hissed at him... then drew back is if it were expecting to be hit.

"What are you doing?" December repeated slowly.

"J'Hasp watch," the creature replied. The thing spoke in hisses, like a cat or a lizard.

"Did you see anything outside?" December asked.

"Seeeee?"

"A child. Screaming. Did you see what it was?"

"Ssscreamssss" the creature mewled happily.

December's eyes darted to Floyd D'Arcy. Floyd caught the glance, and he also caught the meaning behind it. Something was not right. December seemed willing to accept inhuman things climbing unannounced into windows as normal... but now, something in what this creature had said or done was NOT normal. Not normal in a disturbing, slightly sinister way. The look had been a warning...

...be ready to move.

Floyd inched closer to Francesca while December stepped into the room and approached the window.

The temperature in the room began to drop.

"J'Hasp, what did you do?"

"...J'Hasp bad..." The creature smiled. It was a wicked smile filled with teeth.

"J'Hasp!" December snapped.

Again, the creature jerked backward, tucking its head under one arm like a scolded dog. It peeked out at December with one eye, and when it saw no punishment was forthcoming, it unfolded itself and smiled again.

"Answer me. What did you see? What did you do?"

December had moved far enough into the room that Floyd and Francesca had a clear path to the door now. They could run behind December, who would presumably shield them from the creature if it attacked.

Floyd held out his hand to Francesca. She looked at it, and then up at the thing on the ceiling. She was too frightened to move.

"...J'Hasp baaaaad...." the creature hissed.

"Mr. D'Arcy, I suggest you and your daughter leave now," December said calmly.

"no leave J'Hasp... J'Hasp play... play with boyyyy... boy play with J'Hasp?"

"Dammit, girl!" Floyd grabbed Francesca's arm and yanked her toward the door. "Move!"

That was the wrong thing to do.

At the first sign of movement, J'Hasp sprang from the ceiling. The creature's thin, but powerful legs propelled it not toward December, but toward Francesca. Just as Floyd reached his daughter, the creature struck... and stuck to... the wall beside them.

NOW Francesca ran. Still clutching Casey in her arms, she darted past her surprised father.

"You leave her alone!" Floyd yelled as he stepped protectively between J'Hasp and his fleeing daughter.

J'Hasp hissed at him.

"D'ARCY, PROTECT YOUR THROAT!"

The old man's wrinkled hands clasped his own neck, as if trying to strangle himself.

-SLASH!-

"EEEEK!" Floyd squealed as blood spurted from the backs of his shredded hands. Had they not been between the creature's claws and his throat...

The creature dropped to the floor and-

December's running bulk struck it, driving the creature back toward the wall.

But J'Hasp didn't want to go that way.

The creature slipped out of December's grasp and flipped over his head. December spun-

-and J'Hasp's foot shot backward into December's upper chest, propelling J'Hasp forward while driving December back against the wall.

"...J'Hasp..." December grunted as the back of his head struck the wall.

J'Hasp landed behind Francesca. As the woman and child sped out of reach of the creature's claws, J'Hasp's tail lashed out at the woman's legs. The long appendage circled her ankles and snapped tight.

J'Hasp yanked Francesca's feet right out from under her.

"DROP THE BOY!" December ordered. Francesca did not intend to follow that order, but she was not the most coordinated of women even under the best of circumstances. With a monster on her heels, and traces of Cordelia's 'nerve tonic' still swirling in her system, she was lucky to have kept hold of the boy for as long as she did. When she started to fall, her hands flew outward to catch herself.

She and Casey hit the floor at the same time. The boy landed on his shoulder, and the pain woke him up. He opened his eyes just in time to see his mother sliding away from him... being pulled back into the bedroom by her feet.

"MAMA!" Casey crawled after her.

"RUN! RUN, CASEY!"

Casey got up and ran for the stairs. Behind him, Francesca rolled onto her back and started to punch, slap, and scratch the creature above her.

Hissing furiously, J'Hasp raised one clawed hand and prepared to remove the woman's face.

"NO!" Floyd shouted. He intended to throw himself onto the creature and knock it off balance.

J'Hasp caught him by the jaw. Razor-sharp talons pierced skin and flesh with ease... J'Hasp's claws scraped against the old man's bones as he lifted the Floyd into the air.

"Man... hurt J'Hasssp?" the creature hissed angrily.

"Put him down!" December said as he got to his feet.

For a second, it looked as if J'Hasp were about comply with December's order. The creature blinked its eyes and looked confused for a second.

By this time, Casey had reached the stairs. Driven by blind fear, he didn't see what was in front of him until he was already on his way to the floor... tripped up by a small but well-placed foot.

"AA!!"

-WHUMP!-

"No running in the house, young man!" said Emerson Shaw. "You might fall and hurt yourself." He planted his foot on the boy's back and shoved him down while he shouted at J'Hasp.

"HEY YOU!

"HSSSSS-" J'Hasp's attention went from December to Emerson... and then to-

WHAM!

Struck in the shoulder by a speeding hammer, J'Hasp flew backward... releasing both Floyd and Francesca D'Arcy along the way. But instead of hitting the wall or sliding across the floor, the creature flipped end-over-end and landed on its feet near the center of the room.

J'Hasp squealed and clutched his shoulder. The flexible bones slid easily, yet painfully back into place... after which J'Hasp's hiss became a low, guttural growl aimed at the owner of the hammer.

Outside, a figure clad in black and wielding two miniature crossbows floated down from the roof and hovered in front of the window. Gallows leveled both weapons at J'Hasp's back.

"NO!" December stepped in front of the window as Hemingway Shaw charged toward the bedroom. J'Hasp crouched low, and then sprang into the hallway. Four sets of claws clicked on the wooden floor as he closed on his attacker.

"You wanna wrestle, eh?" said Hemingway.

"Watch out for his claws!" Floyd D'Arcy warned. His hands were still bleeding from the creature's attack. "The claws!"

J'Hasp suddenly crouched again... thin legs folding up like springs in preparation for another leap, this one aimed at Hemingway's throat.

But Hemingway had no intention of wrestling with the creature.

That was Emerson's job.

"NOW!"

Emerson had been running right behind him, and at the shouted signal, the small thief flipped up onto a handstand on Hemingway's shoulders, and then let a sudden thrust from Hemingway's muscles propel him into a dive that ended with his boots planted in the center of J'Hasp's bony chest.

Man and beast both went down... but Emerson was in a controlled fall. As he rolled forward, Emerson hooked his arms under J'Hasp's shoulders and flipped the creature over him, slamming it to the floor a second time.

"Betcha never seen anything like THAT before, eh!" Emerson quickly wove his arms and legs around the creature, trying to get it in a strangle-hold while it was still stunned. J'Hasp slipped free almost effortlessly. The creature's joints twisted and moved in ways that would perplex even a practiced contortionist. In the blink of an eye, J'Hasp's claws were arcing toward Emerson's throat-

"NYAA!" Hemingway roared. Emerson rolled hard to the right as his older... and significantly larger brother collided with J'Hasp. Hemingway's massive arms wrapped around the much smaller creature, pinning J'Hasp's arms to his sides. "GOT YOU!"

"NO!" December shouted. "YOU DON'T!"

Before December could warn him, Hemingway discovered on his own that while the creature was less than half his size, it was at least three times as strong. One flex of the creature's seemingly weak muscles forced the circus strongman's arms apart as if he were no stronger than a child.

J'Hasp immediately turned and slashed with both sets of claws.

Hemingway tried to dodge. He twisted to his right while throwing himself backward. One set of claws slashed along the side of his face, carving four long bloody grooves along his left cheek and nearly removing his left ear.

"AAAAAGH!" Hemingway's blood splattered along the corridor wall as the second set of claws came for his gut.

But something slipped into the path of the speeding claws, and J'Hasp's deadly weapons drew sparks against those of Harrison Blackshear.

"Step aside!" Hars grunted as Hemingway stumbled past him in retreat.

J'Hasp immediately attacked this new foe. Hars's blades were battered and his muscles tired from the day's combat, but he still wielded his swords like a master. He kept J'Hasp's claws at bay with fierce slashes that would have disarmed the creature... literally... had it not been so quick to dodge and weave its way past his counterattacks.

"FORCE HIM BACK TOWARD ME!" December ordered. December was standing in the bedroom doorway... and the cold air pouring off of him rolled down the hall like an arctic tide. "TOWARD ME!" he repeated.

"AYE!" Hars growled. He lunged toward the creature. J'Hasp shot to his left, attempting to go around him and possibly rip open his flank as he escaped. But the highwayman's sword intercepted it. J'Hasp slid under one speeding blade, leapt over the other...

...but was nearly cut in half as the first blade came back around again in a rapid spinning slice. J'Hasp dodged back to the right. The second blade came across its chest in a downward arc. Metal did not meet flesh. The creature jerked backward, hissing and spitting furiously as Hars drove it toward its master.

J'Hasp tried again to attack, and then to slip past, but Hars's blades had a much longer reach than J'Hasp's claws. The creature could not get near him. Hars clearly had the advantage.

Clearly.

J'Hasp leapt onto the wall and clung to it for a moment before springing at him. Hars stepped into the attack with one sword plunging toward J'Hasp's chest and the other held ready. J'Hasp's leap came up short...as Hars knew it would. The creature had no intention of impaling itself on his blades... it was merely drawing him in. But this was an opportunity to push the creature further back.

Hars charged, hoping the catch the creature off balance just as it landed. But the creature's 'landing' became a 'bounce' as the creature sprang up onto the ceiling and sank two sets of claws into the rafters. Anchored by its arms, J'Hasp's clawed feet were free to slash at Hars's surprised face.

The swordsman leaned back out of reach-

J'Hasp's tail circled his right forearm. Pain and numbness enveloped his hand as the constricting tail shut off his circulation-

Hars slashed with his left blade-

Ka-TINK!

J'Hasp's feet intercepted the speeding blade and snatched it out of Harrison's hand.

Hars reached for the knife at his belt, but he was too slow.

J'Hasp's tail yanked the swordsman off of his feet and whipped him back and forth across the corridor, slamming him into both walls before returning him to the floor.

Hars landed on his back. J'Hasp landed on Hars's chest.

Clawed feet dug deep into the muscular torso while clawed hands descended toward the swordsman's neck. But suddenly J'Hasp twisted and slashed at-

Deadly talons slid harmlessly off of Yexhill Thane's magical barrier.

Thane grabbed the creature's extended arm and held it with one hand while driving his other fist into J'Hasp's shoulder, hoping to shatter the delicate-seeming joint. But instead of the snap of hard bone, the Thane felt the joint separate and the bones yield to the force of the blow... then bend back into place.

"Huh?"

J'Hasp's fingers closed around Thane's face... just as the man's protective barrier fizzled out.

Thane's imminent separation from his face was delayed by a charge from Emerson Shaw. With golden knife grasped in one hand, the thief leapt for the creature's exposed and unguarded back.

J'Hasp heard/smelled/felt him coming before the man took his first step. Without turning around to look, J'Hasp wrapped his tail around Emerson's wrist-

"MY ARM-"

FWWOOOOM!!

Yexhill Thane's magic ring belched a tight ball of fire that engulfed the creature's head.

"EEEEEEEEEEE!!!!" J'Hasp's squeal of pain screeched up and down the corridor. "EEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

Still standing on top of Harrison Blackshear, the creature flailed violently, sending Thane and Emerson flying in two different directions.

Thane's ring continued to spew a tight line of flame as he fell backward. His bandaged feet finally deposited him on the floor...

...but by that time half of the ceiling was on fire.

"Aww, hell..."

"EEEEEEEEEEE!" J'Hasp's animal screams reached a maddening pitch as he ran blindly down the hallway, his head still engulfed in a blanket of flame.

"J'HASP! COME!" December's voice boomed.

The creature veered toward him and sprang into his grasp. The flames went out instantly, and J'Hasp lay still in December's arms.

Harrison, Thane, and Emerson all lay moaning on the floor. Hemingway was pressing a bloody scrap of his own shirt to the gashes on his face, trying to stop the bleeding that had so far resisted his efforts.

"My house!" Floyd D'Arcy cried.

The ceiling was aflame, and the fire had begun to spread in both directions down the corridor, rapidly turning the hallway into a tunnel of fire...

...but the tunnel ended at December. The flames had spread to within arm's reach of him, but they would come no closer. It was as if a line had been drawn around him, and the flames were afraid to cross it.

December glanced at the flames, regarding them with mild disinterest. Then, still holding J'Hasp... he walked slowly down the hallway toward the others. The fire retreated before him, receding like a tide until the entire length of the hallway had been extinguished.

December looked down at Hars, who was bleeding from wounds on his chest that matched those on Hemingway's face.

"The boy," said December. "Where-"

"He didn't get far," said Gallows. The archer was coming up the stairs, preceded by Casey D'Arcy.

"You'd better watch out," said Hemingway, pointing at the boy. "He'll punch you in the nu-"

"He already did," said Gallows. "Thanks anyway." The assassin looked at the Night's Bloom and shook his head. "I see we fared as well as we usually do."

"Somebody please tell me," Thane grunted as he got up. "that we didn't just get our asses handed to us by December's pet monkey... or whatever that thing is."

"No, of course we didn't," Emerson replied. "That was all a bad dream."

"Is THAT our purpose here?" continued Thane. "To catch an ass-whipping every ten minutes? If so-"

"Is it dead?" Hars had retrieved his swords and confronted December... with both blades respectfully sheathed. December was still holding the creature in his arms. Hars kept his distance.

"Of course not," said December. "The wounds are minor; J'Hasp's body will regenerate in a short time."

"It's not dead," said Gallows. "And its not asleep either."

"Hibernation," December replied. "Low temperatures cause him to-"

"I SAID," Gallows repeated more sternly. "It isn't asleep. And wants very much to kill you."

December looked down at the thing in his arms. J'Hasp still hadn't moved. The creature's eyes were closed, and the rise and fall of it's chest had slowed to-

J'Hasp's eyes popped open.

And his claws slashed across his master's unguarded throat, unleashing a startled choke and a spurting fountain of bright blue blood.

December's blue eyes expanded across his face in a look of pure shock. He clamped his hand to his torn throat as J'Hasp sprang from his grasp-

The creature was coming for Gallows. The assassin pulled Casey close to him with one hand and brought his miniature bow up with the other.

He was too slow-

WHAM!

Hemingway Shaw threw himself into J'Hasp just as the creature passed the stairs. Man and beast went tumbling down the first few steps, but J'Hasp leapt onto the handrail and headed back up, but then threw itself backward-

-zzzZZIP!-

Gallows' bolt had been aimed at the creature's face, but it missed. Instead of continuing its charge, the creature dropped to the floor... sprang up onto the wall... and streaked upward over the fireplace to the window beside the door.

With the shattering of glass, J'Hasp was gone.

"I'll get it," Gallows growled. The assassin ran back down the hallway toward the bedroom. "Catch up when you can... if you can..."

Gallows leapt out the open window and floated upward out of site.

"Need some help over here!" said Hars. "Hemingway!"

Hars was lowering December to the floor. Three hands were pressed to December's throat, but the blood would not stop. December's chest was already soaked with his own blood... blue blood that began turning mortal red as soon as it left his severed artery.

"Can't stop the bleedin'!" said Hars. "That b-beastie got 'im good!"

Hars was shivering in the rapidly increasing cold...

"Move your hand," Hemingway ordered. "Just for a second; let me see-"

December pushed Hars back, and Hemingway recoiled as if struck. The air around December thickened with a deep and bitter cold. The wooden floor creaked... then cracked. December sat up .

"Pull it back in!" Hars shouted. "We can't help ya if-"

December pointed at Thane, and then at the burnt ceiling... and then at himself.

"What? ME? What's he want ME to do!?"

"Somebody go get that damned necromancer!" said Hars.

December shook his head and pointed at Thane. He pointed at Thane's hand...

"RING!" Hemingway blurted. "FIRE! BURN HIM!"

"WHAT?! ARE YOU-"

"He doesn't BURN! YOU saw what happened-"

"DO IT ANYWAY!" said Hars.

Yexhill Thane touched his ring, and flames erupted around his hand. He pointed at December.

A wide column of fire sprayed across the hallway. Harrison and Hemingway ran for cover as the intensity of the flames narrowed and focused on December.

The fire never reached him. In fact, despite the flames, the temperature in the hallway sank even futher, driving the Night's Bloom back.

"See!" said Thane. "Nothing's happening!"

December knelt in the center of the flames, head lowered as if in prayer. When the fire began to falter, he looked up at Thane with almost... but not quite... desperate eyes.

"KEEP IT UP!" said Hemingway.

More flames poured from the fighter's clenched fist. Angry, flickering tongues of orange and red licked at the air around December.

"I'm almost out! I don't even know what I'm doing here!"

"Just keep going!" Hars ordered.

"Can't!" The fire encircling Thane's hand vanished, as did all the other flames in the hallway. December knelt in a frozen, unburnt island amid a sea of scorched wood. One hand gripped his throat. There was blood all over his fingers... but the blood was red. Old.

The hand slowly pulled away.

"Wait!" said Hemingway. "Keep the pressure-" He started toward December, but Hars held him back.

"Unless you wanna start droppin' fingers and toes all over the floor, you'd better stay back. It's too cold."

Hemingway hesitated, then stepped back behind Hars.

Everyone could see the wounds now. J'Hasp had torn four long, deep gashes across the front and left side of December's throat. It was a fatal wound. One claw had hit December's jugular, from which blue blood had spurted with each beat of December's heart. But the fountain of blood had ceased. The wounds were still there; still open, jagged, and in need of stitches and bandaging... but they were no longer fresh.

Some healing had taken place. Not enough to close the ugly gashes or heal the torn flesh, but enough to stop the bleeding. Just enough to save December's life.

December closed his eyes and gave a slow, careful sigh. His hand returned to his throat, and he held it there as he got to his feet. His shifting weight caused the frozen floor to crackle beneath his feet.

"He's okay?" said Emerson.

"What did we just see?"

"Something I don't think we'll be allowed to talk about," said Hars.

The temperature in the hallway was still stunningly painful... but it was beginning to rise.

"Are you..." Hemingway began. His educated brow wrestled with opposing looks of understanding and confusion. "...I don't... I don't get it. You should be dead."

"...heat..." December answered the unspoken question. His normally low bass was a high, almost inaudible whisper. He stopped to carefully inhale every few syllables. "...fuels my... metabolism. Excess... allows for... accelerated..." December didn't finish. Speaking was painful.

"Well THAT'S a nice trick," said Emerson. "Wish you'd told us about it earlier! We'd have let YOU fight that thing! And the OTHER thing! AND the OTHER other thing!"

"We'll need a round of bandages," said Hemingway. "We all took hits that we shouldn't have. Emerson?"

"Yeah, yeah..." Emerson went into the nearest bedroom, where fresh sheets and linens awaited his expert knife. "...if everyone was as fast as ME, we wouldn't have this problem..."

Ripping sounds emanated from the bedroom.

"Well, they've destroyed all the rooms," Francesca D'Arcy said from a the far corner of the hall. "And now they've started on the hallways. How much of a house are they going to leave us, father? Or ARE They going to leave us? See what happens when you welcome the devil into our home?"

"I didn't see you complainin' when we were protecting you," said Thane.

"From a monster that YOU brought here!"

"J'Hasp is normally... very obedient," said December.

"Then why did he attack us?"

"...same reason... I went mad. Was taken hostage... held for hours... longer than I was... poison..."

"Great," said Emerson, returning with a fresh pile of bandages. "So instead of a REGULAR creepy monster, we've got an EVIL, INSANE creepy monster, is that it?"

"...yes."

"Well, when Mr. No-One-Escapes-The-Gallows catches up to him, maybe they'll be enough of that thing's hide left to make a nice pair of boots. Or an ugly pair of boots."

"Effect... is intense... but may be... temporary. After all... I did... recover..."

"Hey, wait, I think I KNOW this part!" Emerson said gleefully. "THIS is the part where YOU send US out to catch that thing ALIVE! And WE'RE all stupid enough to go and DO it! Right? Right? Did I get it right?"

"Yes."

"No! If you want us to fight that thing again, then you'd better start pulling some awfully big diamonds out of your nether regions! And I mean BIG! HUGE!"

"I'll have to agree with my brother on this one," said Hemingway. "It's been one damned thing after another since we HIT this town. We're starting to rack up some injuries here... we can't fight. Not that thing... not anything else."

"Harrison... does he speak... for you... as well?"

Hars looked back at the others.

Yexhill Thane raised his hand.

"I'll fight."

"Oh yeah, what are you gonna do when you find that thing," said Emerson. "...KICK it to death!?"

"We're still standing and flapping our mouths," said Hars. "So that means we can fight. IF we have to. But what about that necromancer of yours-"

"N'Doki... went to... investigate... the creature..."

"Well he picked a FINE time to do something useful!" said Emerson. "Get him back here!"

"So its just us, then."

"I... will come... with you..."

"Oh yes, that's MUCH better," Emerson's sarcasm was rapidly transforming into anger. "Now performing... One Night Only! The Fearless Monster Hunters with special guest: The Man With No THROAT!"

"I have survived worse," said December. "But if you... are concerned... for your own safety... then I will go... alone..."

"Let's remember what we found in that alley, lads," said Hars. "We gonna let that thing run around loose?"

"Gallows has probably already-"

"Gallows will attempt... to destroy. There must be... another way."

"And what way is THAT?" said Thane. "If we can catch it, THEN what? Sit on it until it decides to play nice again? What if it DOESN'T? What if... what if too much of that poison makes you PERMANENTLY crazy? THEN what?"

"Or maybe you want to turn it over to N'Doki," said Hars. "He'll make it ALL better, I'm sure."

December looked at them, but neither his eyes nor his mouth produced any answers.

"This thing is your friend," said Hars. "And I can respect that. And maybe you're not feelin' all too stable after what happened earlier... I can understand that, too. But now YOU gotta understand and respect a few things. There's a little girl in PIECES in an alley down the street. Right next to her is a man with his throat ripped out... only HIS magic metabolism must have been malfunctioning, because he's just a little bit DEAD! Now maybe you don't know what your monster is capable of, or maybe you DO and you're just ignoring it for the sake of saving a friend. But that thing isn't OUR friend. And WE'VE seen what it can do. When the Night's Bloom goes out that door, we're going out there to HUNT. We're more than willin' to sit here and let our professional do what he's paid to do.... but if you want us in on it, then we're in all the way. In for the kill."

There was considerable distance between December and Hars. December's cold gaze sliced through that distance like a knife. Hars met it without a flinch.

"Are you certain," December said. "...about the girl? And the man?"

"Let me see your throat again."

December took his hand away from his neck. Hars studied the wound's left by J'Hasp's claws.

"Yeah, pretty damned sure," he said.

December gave another careful sigh. Emerson Shaw tossed him a few strips of cloth, which December used to pad and bandage his wounds.

"N'Doki was right," he whispered. "I should never... have brought any of you... to this place."

"Too late for that," said Hars. "We're in the middle of it now, regrets would just distract you. Assuming there's something to distract you FROM. So, do you want us in, or not?"

Again, December paused. It was not hesitation, but rather a silent inventory of his own thoughts. Pain and memories.

"If J'Hasp is to be put down... then it must be by my hands." December said finally.

"You heard the man, lads," said Hars. "We're on the move again. Thane-"

"You're not leaving me out of this one!" Thane said defensively.

"No-" Hars began.

"But I am," December finished.

"I'm the only one here who got in a decent shot at that thing! You need-"

"I need the most effective weapon..." December said slowly. "...to remain here and stand guard. J'Hasp... was after the child. If he eludes us... he may return for a second attempt. If so, protect the boy... by any means at your disposal..."

Thane looked at Hars for confirmation. Hars nodded, and Thane stepped back and frowned.

The Night's Bloom descended the stairs. Emerson and Hemingway were in the lead, followed by Hars. December brought up the rear. Halfway down, Hars turned to speak.

"You sure you're up to this?"

"My throat will heal..."

"I wasn't talking about that," said Hars.

"I will do what must be done, Mr. Blackshear."

"A lot of people say that, right up until the time comes for them to actually DO it."

"I am not... one of those people."

"I didn't think you were. But its hard to tell what's in a man's heart. Especially yours."

"History is in my heart," said December.

"Eh? What's that mean?"

"The past," December repeated. "And do you know... what they say... about history, Mr. Blackshear?"

"Can't say that I do."

"It always repeats itself."

[To Be Continued]