"BRACE FOR IMPACT!"

Zade had almost no time to react to the warning. She turned her head to look toward the bow of the ship, then tensed her muscles in preparation-

CRACK!

The Ark lurched violently to one side as it shuddered from the impact. Everything standing was thrown to the floor, and everything already on the floor slid uncontrollably across the deck. Women screamed and men shouted. People slammed into each other and held on as they went careening toward the point of impact.

The chaos ended a few seconds later, leaving the ship sitting at an awkward angle, partially hung-up on the huge chunk of ice that it had struck. Zade was already on her feet, running toward the bow. She could already hear the shouts from those who saw it...

"Where did THAT come from!"

"What is it!?"

"It just rose up out of the water!"

"Came out of NOWHERE!"

"ICE! IT'S ICE!"

"WE HIT AN ICEBERG!"

"The Hull is CRACKED! We're going down!"

Zade couldn't believe what she saw. She'd never seen in iceberg before, so she had no idea whether this was one or not... but it was certainly one tremendously HUGE chunk of ice. Nearly as big as the Ark itself. Its shape was hard to discern... the jagged surface had so many ridges, swirls and spikes that it looked like the creation of some sculptor who was not only blind and untalented, but totally insane as well. It almost seemed malicious... as malicious and sinister as the giant waves that had destroyed the town. It looked like a storm... as if the winds of a deadly, roaring blizzard had been transformed into...

"...ice," said Zade. Instantly she knew what the thing was. She didn't know how it had gotten as big as it had, but she knew what it meant. "SOMEBODY'S INSIDE!" she shouted. "SOMEBODY'S INSIDE THAT THING!"

Just then, a loud cracking sound began to emanate from the ice. The frozen shell shuddered.... then-

FWWWOOOOMMMM!!!

A thin plume of fire erupted from its side, blasting away chunks of ice and throwing up a thick cloud of hot steam. A huge slab of half-melted ice slid away and fell into the flood waters... and what lay beyond was lost in the steam and chilled fog that quickly enveloped the icy orb. The fire died as quickly as it had begun, leaving a severely 'wounded' iceberg that began to rotate and pull away from the Ark.

Zade already had the rope tied around her waist. She leapt over the bow and climbed down as fast as her hands could take her. Steam and fog rose up around her... she could barely see.

"DECEMBER!" she shouted. The fire had come from a spot just a few yards below the ship's bow.... that's where she was headed. That's where she would find him. She thought she heard something. Was it a voice? Or was it merely the ice cracking or the water pouring into the hole in the Ark's hull? Zade shifted her weight on the rope and began to swing back and forth... swinging toward the sound she thought she'd heard. She was close to the ice... she felt the cold air wrap around her every time she swung to the right. She could see the fog of her own breath mingling with the white mist that surrounded her. She swung harder... then kicked away from the ship's hull to take her further out. Zade held onto the rope with one hand and reached down with the other. She couldn't see anything below her but white... with occasional glimpses of water or ice.

"DECEMBER!!!" she called. She slammed back into the hull, then pushed off again, this time at an angle... still reaching. "DECEMB-"

A cold, hard hand suddenly reached out of the fog and grasped Zade's forearm.

"URRGH!" Zade grunted from the strain... and the sudden painful cold that began to creep up toward her elbow. She grasped December's arm just below the wrist, just as he had grasped hers. She pulled... hard. More of December's arm appeared, but he was too heavy. She lacked the strength to drag him all the way back up to the deck. And the longer she held onto him, the more her arm began to throb and stiffen. The leather sleeve of her armor had already turned brittle, and now a sharp icy pain ate away at her strength as the underlying skin began to freeze. Zade's fingers felt like they were on fire... but the nerve endings were actually freezing to death. Zade tightened her grip on the rope.

"Climb up! Climb up over me!"

"I cannot," December replied calmly.

"Dammit, I'm not gonna lose another one! Hold on!" Zade redoubled her efforts, groaning from the strain. She looked up at the deck above. "PULLLL!!!!" she shouted. "SOMEBODY PULL US UP!"

Zade held onto December as the rope began to move, carrying them both up toward the deck. Slowly, December began to rise out of the mist. His face and chest looked battered... beaten. But when Zade looked down into his eyes she saw neither defeat nor vulnerability. All she saw was fiery intensity of his cold gaze.

"...Hold on..." Zade grunted.

"I have no intention of releasing you, Zade."

"I wasn't talking to you... I was talking to my ARM! You're about to pull it right off!" Zade's fingers were numb... and the numbness was rising up into her wrist. "Use your other hand... try to pull yourself up!"

"My other arm is occupied."

Zade looked down and saw the other shape rising from the fog. December had his arm around Theesa's waist, holding her like a doll. She was alive. How the woman was surviving the incredible cold, Zade had no idea... but she was. Theesa drifted in and out of consciousness as December held her tight.

"We have precious cargo, Zade."

"You'll be...ungh... fine... just don't let go."

Another attempt to pull December and Theesa up confirmed the worst... Zade's arm was numb from the shoulder down. She could only take another few seconds of cold.

"PULL FASTER!"

The trio rose faster... higher...

"...hold on... almost there..."

Several pairs of hands grabbed Zade's arm and yanked her up over the railing. December followed, and Theesa came with him. The three of them tumbled onto the deck. December collapsed... falling onto his hands and knees. His hand came away from Zade's arm and Theesa slipped out of his grasp. Two men grabbed her and pulled her away.

Zade tried to rub the feeling back into her arm. It wasn't working. Her sleeve crackled and fell away in large black leather chips... along with several patches of frozen skin. She couldn't move or feel her arm at all. The flesh wasn't completely brittle, but the muscles were frozen in place. The frostbite had gone deep into her flesh, especially where December's hand had been. Zade knew that it would heal... probably... but it would also hurt like hell until it was fully recovered. But that didn't matter.

She knelt down by December. Up close, and out of the fog, he looked worse than she'd first thought. Several large bruises marred his pale skin, and his shirt bore a large stain that was unmistakably blood. His temperature was out of control; frost was already forming on the deck all around him. He was in bad shape. Still, his breaths were deep and regular.

"December?"

"...Theesa..." he murmured. "Is she-"

"She made it. She's... somewhere around here."

With a grunt, December rose to his feet and looked around. Theesa was sitting on the deck not far way. Her face was flushed red, and her long hair was plastered to her head in a wet mess. Her clothes were soaked, and she was breathing as if she'd been holding her breath for a long time. Several men were trying to convince her to rest and remain still, but she was having none of it. She shook her head and pushed one man away.

"I must see him!" she said between gasps. "Where is he?" She tried to get up, but was too weak. December walked over to her and helped her up; she fell into his arms. "...we made it," she said.

December folded his arms around her and they stood together on the deck. It didn't seem to matter that they were standing on a sinking ship in the middle of a flooded river. The only thing that mattered was that they were there together... that, whatever hell they'd just come through, they'd come through it together. They had survived.

It was a feeling that Zade couldn't share.

"...the arm's fine, thanks," Zade said under her breath as she walked away. For some reason, the sight of them together gave her the urgent desire to be anywhere but there.

---

"YOU!" Gabrial Brinks pointed to the guard that was running toward him. "I asked you for a status report TEN MINUTES ago!"

"Sorry, sir," said the young man. He skidded to a halt and looked around nervously as Brinks approached. He was obviously not expecting to encounter Brinks in the hallway... or anywhere else, for that matter. "I...we...it..."

"You were trying to run away, weren't you!"

"NO, SIR!"

"Then WHERE is the information I asked for! Are the boats still usable or not!"

"The...uhh... the boat-house is underwater."

Brinks blinked a few times, trying not to let the information faze him. The boats were his back-up plan. If the mages couldn't get him out of the city, then he was going to load as many valuables as his servants could carry into a ship and try to sail to safety. Now, that wasn't an option.

"How bad is it?" he asked. "How high is the water?"

"Right outside the main gate, sir! We can see the trees just beyond the gate... but that's all! No city, no nothing! The water is still rising!"

Again, Brinks pretended not to be concerned. So far, his air of calm arrogance was holding up well.

"Very well," he said. "Instruct my servants to begin gathering the valuables. Jewels and artwork only... the gold will be too heavy. Then gather as many guards as you can and meet me at the store-room... I have two shipments of Dust that absolutely MUST be saved at all cost-"

"But-"

"But WHAT? But you're scared? But you want to RUN? Tell me, boy... where are you going to run TO!? This MOUNTAIN has become an ISLAND... and the only way off is through the mages that answer to ME and ME ALONE! Lest you wish to be left behind, I think you should remember who is in charge here!"

"Yes, sir... YES, SIR!"

The young boy turned and ran back the way he had come.

"That one will be staying behind," Brinks said to himself. He knew that the mages couldn't teleport all his treasures AND the thirty or so guards and servants still in the mansion. Some of the hired help would have to stay behind. The prospect didn't bother Brinks in the least... it was strictly common sense. Men could be replaced in a day, but his fortune had taken the better part of two decades to build. Thus, the preservation of even a portion of his hard-earned wealth took precedence over a few paltry lives.

But that was assuming that ANYTHING could be saved. He hadn't heard from Dravian or any of the other mages since the second wave had submerged most of his mountain. Where were they?

"Hmmm..."

Brinks walked to the end of the hallway and out into the ruined ballroom. A few servants stood around looking frightened... even more so after they spotted him.

"Don't you have VALUABLES to gather!" he bellowed.

The men scattered. Brinks continued out the front entrance. He paused in the courtyard to search for signs of mages or more lazy servants. He found none, so he started down the path to the main gate, determined to see the devastation for himself.

He didn't have to walk far. The path was at a steep incline, and once he cleared the shrubbery he had a clear view of where the city should have been. There was nothing there but water and floating debris. He walked a bit further and saw that the young guard had spoken the truth... the water was right outside the main gate. And it was still rising... rising so fast that he could actually SEE it moving. It would reach the gate in fifteen or twenty minutes. An hour or so after that, the floor of the mansion would be flooded. In ANOTHER hour, mansion would be underwater.

"Plenty of time," said Brinks... but the cowardly warble in his voice betrayed his false confidence. "P-plenty of time to get out of here."

"SIR!" came a shout from the right. A lone guard was running from the north tower towards him. It was and old, rugged mercenary named Flance, one of the few guards that Brinks knew by name.

"Sir, there's a SHIP approaching!"

"A what!?"

"Spotted it from the tower! There!"

The guard pointed to the north. There was a ship there... plainly visible. And easily recognizable.

"Dear gods... that thing still floats!? Gather the guards! When it gets here we'll SEIZE it and-"

"It's sinking, sir," said the guard. "Big hole in the hull. Can't see it from here, but its plain as day with the spyglass. They might make it to the mansion, but they damn sure ain't going anywhere else after they get here."

"They?" said Brinks. "Who are 'They'?"

"Survivors on the deck, sir. Lots of 'em.... a hundred easy. Maybe more. Could be even MORE below decks-"

"DAMN them!" Brinks spat.

"Sir?"

"Those vermin will undoubtedly want to use MY resources to secure their safety! The mages can't teleport us all, so THEY may as well stay on that boat and drown. Let them save THEMSELVES!"

"So... what should we do, sir? They don't have much control over that ship... current is too strong. They're coming here whether they want to or not."

"Then they are intruders," said Brinks. "We should treat them as such... I want you to SHOOT whoever sets foot on my property."

Flance nodded.

"I trust there won't be a problem with that?"

"For me... no, sir. It's what you pay me for, isn't it?"

"Always the mercenary, eh Flance?"

"Yes, sir. You paid me in advance; I'm still your man 'til the middle of next month. After that..." Flance shrugged.

"Good. Make sure it isn't a problem for the others either..." Brinks pulled a cloth-wrapped pouch from his pocket. He tossed the package of Dust to the guard, who caught it greedily. "That may help persuade them to follow orders. If it doesn't... kill them."

"Of course, sir."

Flance started back toward the tower.

"One more thing..." said Brinks.

"Yes?"

"Are there women and children on board that vessel?"

"I believe I saw a few."

"Shoot them first. That will discourage the others from attempting a landing."

"Yes, Mr. Brinks."

Brinks watched Flance go, and a thought occurred to him.

"...tower..." he muttered. "If the mages fail, I can stash the valuables in the towers. The water won't rise that far, certainly. I can hide there and stay safe until the water recedes... a pity that there won't be room for Flance..."

Brinks went back into the mansion. He went to the treasure room, where the servants should have bee busily collecting his various belongings. They weren't. There was no one in the room, and Brinks' treasure looked as if it had been hit by a tornado. Chests and boxes lay overturned, their contents scattered. His prized collection of jeweled platinum daggers was missing. Two small chests of gemstones were empty... but a nearby stack of gold bars lay untouched. Too heavy. Someone had done a very hasty, yet thorough job of looting his treasures, taking only what they could carry.

"It doesn't matter," Brinks chuckled "There's nowhere to go. I'll retrieve it all from their drowned corpses when the flood is over."

Then Brinks noticed that the Heart of Verraque still rested on the floor in a dusty corner of the room. The massive jewel was in plain sight, where anyone who walked in the room would have seen it. It was a relatively lightweight prize... and a priceless one at that. It was one of the first things that any thief or looter would have taken.

Unless...

Unless the thief suspected that the Heart was cursed... that it was the Heart of Verraque that had destroyed New Venyce.

And the only people who suspected that that were were Brinks himself and...

"TRAITORS!"

Three right turns and two hallways later, Brinks was outside the mage's study... a large room where Dravian and the others worked their private magic for Brinks. The heavy wooden door was closed and locked.

"What is this?" he said as he tried the latch. It wouldn't open. Brinks heard voices inside... voices chanting strange, arcane words that Brinks couldn't hope to comprehend. There was a peculiar sensation in the air... a charge that got stronger as the chanting continued. "WHAT IS THIS!" Brinks howled as he pounded on the door. The chanting continued unabated. "Idiots don't think I have the keys to my own manse!?!" Brinks fumbled through the key ring he wore on his belt, then slid one metal key into the hole. He turned it, the latch unlocked, and Brinks yanked the door open.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN HERE!" he yelled. Cellus, three apprentice mages, and all of the servants were in the center of the room, standing inside a glowing pentagram. Every last one of the servants was weighed down by fistfuls of Brinks' treasure... their pockets literally overflowed with jewelry and gemstones.

Cellus and the apprentices were empty-handed. They chanted and gesturing wildly in concert with Dravian, who stood just outside the pentagram. Their shouts and movements were all synchronized perfectly... like an orchestra with Dravian as the conductor. The magic in the air grew so strong that it began to crackle and arc across the corners of the room. Brink's skin stung painfully just from being in its midst.

"STOP! I COMMAND YOU TO STOP!!!"

Without warning, the powerful spell reached its climax. There was a flash of pure, white light, followed by an incredible thunderclap and a gust of wind that blew out of the room... then reversed direction and sucked back INTO the room.

Then it was gone.

So was the pentagram.

With Cellus, the apprentices, the servants, and Brinks' treasure along with it.

There was no one in the room now except for Brinks and Dravian. Dravian was drained. Now almost too weak to stand, he staggered backward and supported himself by leaning on the stone wall.

Brinks was on him in an instant. He grabbed Dravian by the throat-

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!" he screamed. He punctuated each syllable by throttling the exhausted mage.

"What... what I should have done long ago," said Dravian. "Final spell... sent the others away. There will be no more innocent lives lost because of your greed..."

"You FOOL! You've doomed YOURSELF as well!"

"...someone... had to serve as an anchor for the spell..."

"Oh, how noble..." Brinks hissed. "Stay behind and drown so you can save the others... BAH!"

Brinks pushed Dravian away from him, shoving him into the wall.

"So you're a HERO now, eh?" said Brinks. "Is THAT it!?"

"... just a foolish mage... who let his own greed corrupt him."

"SEND ME WITH THEM! SEND ME TO SAFETY!"

"No. No, Cellus and the others are safe. But you and I... we will stay here and get what we deserve..."

"Oh, you'll GET what you deserve all right!" Brinks shrieked. "You want to be a hero!? FINE! I'll make you a MARTYR!"

Brinks snatched his sword from he scabbard on his belt. Before Dravian could speak another word, he thrust the blade through the mage's gut, impaling him with the hard steel.

"...Unnnghhh...." Dravian sighed. The mage collapsed and lay in a motionless heap amidst a rapidly-growing pool of his own blood. Brinks yanked the blade out and wiped the blood off with the edge of Dravian's robe.

"I will not abide treachery," said Brinks. "OR heroes." He spat on Dravian's corpse and left the room, heading outside once again.

---

Zade sat on the stairs leading from the deck to the interior of the ship. She'd shut the hatch above her, but unfortunately there was no way to lock it. She didn't want anyone wandering in after her. She wanted to be alone... just her and the water.

The ship's hull had taken more punishment than it had ever been designed to endure. The collision with December's 'iceberg' had widened an already fatal rupture, and now the ship was rapidly filling up with water. When she'd first descended, Zade saw the huge fountain pouring in through the jagged crack in the wall. Now, that crack was submerged, and all she could see was an area of turbulence as the water continued to enter. In a few more minutes, they would all be underwater. Zade wasn't overly concerned. She was a werewolf. Even with an arm that felt like it had been cut off, pulverized with large iron hammers, and then sewn back on with barbed wire, she could still swim to whatever land lay nearby. She suspected that December could repeat whatever trick he'd pulled to survive the deluge that had destroyed the city; and naturally he'd bring Theesa along with him. Everyone else would be out of luck. Thorne's sacrifice would be in vain. Everyone would die, except the person who most deserved to... the person who claimed to be a bodyguard but who couldn't even save one small child. Zade tried to imagine how he must have died. She pictured him in her mind, trying to get every detail of his final few moments. Did it hurt? Probably not, but it was hard to say. Zade had never suffocated before, so she didn't know for certain WHAT it was like. Was he frightened? In the last few seconds before his air ran out, he was probably terrified beyond words. And all of it was for a shipload of people who were likely going to die anyway. And for HER, who would probably have survived regardless... even is she didn't deserve it.

The hatch opened, and Zade felt someone descending the wooden steps. The slow, heavy footsteps were accompanied by a sharp drop in temperature. Zade didn't bother to look behind her; she knew who it was.

"Your arm," said December.

"I can move it now," Zade replied. She didn't bother to mention the pain. December wouldn't be interested in it. As long as Theesa was okay, he wouldn't care if Zade's arm snapped off at the shoulder.

"Theesa is shaken, but she will recover," said December. "As will I."

"Just in time to drown to death."

"The ship will remain afloat long enough to reach land. However, the water continues to rise... the land may not remain safe for very long."

"Delaying the inevitable, then."

"Perhaps."

There was an awkward silence. Zade rubbed her arm, wincing at the pain. The falling temperature was making it hurt worse, and December was making no move to leave. He seemed to be waiting for something.

She sighed and looked down at the water.

"He was Brinks' son," she said finally. "Thorne was Gabrial Brinks' son. A little boy. There was an eight-year-old child inside that armor."

"I suspected as much," December said.

"That doesn't even faze you, does it? The fact that Brinks used drugs to turn his own son into a... monster."

"Brinks claimed to have studied my life... to have followed in my footsteps and patterned his own life after mine. I am not at all surprised at his violation of his son. He has done what he thinks I would have."

"Would you?" Zade turned around to look up at her employer. "Are you that cold? That heartless?"

"I once was. But there is a certain... nobility... that develops with age. Its cost is high: Decades of cause and effect... action and reaction... of staring the foul results of your mistakes squarely in the face. It instills a guiding sense of what should and should not be. I am no longer the man that Brinks attempts to emulate. Not any more."

"So its just lucky that you didn't have any children to exploit."

"Fortunate indeed," said December.

"So is that your way of justifying what Brinks did? He just hasn't 'grown up' yet? Is THAT what you came down here to say?"

"No free man's decisions require justification to anyone except himself. Brinks acted of his own will. His son suffered as a result... and so, I suspect, will Brinks."

"Does that apply to you as well?"

"I have already suffered, Zade." December looked out at the rising water and for a moment he was somewhere else. Zade couldn't tell what he was thinking.... but whatever it was, it took him far, far away. She saw the distance in his gaze, and the sight of it sent a chill down her back. Zade didn't want to know what memories haunted him. She had enough of her own.

"He saved us all. Did you know that?"

"Yes. The others told me of his sacrifice. And of your attempt to save him."

"Attempt. Funny how that word 'attempt' always means that you failed. You tried, but not hard enough. You weren't strong enough. Or fast enough. Or smart enough. It's always 'nice try... better luck next time.' Only there won't be a next time for Thorne."

"You blame yourself," said December.

"I could have saved him. I can think of a dozen different ways... now that its too late. But when it was time to act, all I could do was 'attempt.'"

"And now you wallow in your own guilt. You doubt your worthiness to have survived when he did not."

Surprised, Zade peered up at December's stern face.

"My heart is not nearly as frozen as you imagine," he said. "It is for this reason that I apologize in advance for what follows."

"What are you talking about?"

"Brinks. It is his land we approach. His mountain is now an island... and on that island is the man responsible for your disgrace... for your failure. The man who betrayed the bond of his own blood, who turned a child into a instrument of destruction for no reasons other than his own cowardice and greed."

"Brinks." Zade repeated the name almost unwillingly, for it left a sour, painful taste in her mouth. The thought that he was still alive never occurred to her. But he was.

"This man's very existence was a bane to his own offspring... a child he twisted and corrupted with his own hands. How much pain did the child endure under his father's care? How much torture? How much guilt? How many nights did the boy lay shivering in some dark corner, repulsed at what he had done in his father's service mere hours earlier? Was he sickened and frightened of what he had become... or was he so twisted that he did not realize what had been done to him until the very end? And what of that end, Zade? Did the child think that he had to sacrifice himself to atone for what his father had done? Surely he must have known that, even away from his father, he still would have been a monster. Was his death the only true means of escape?"

"I don't want to talk about this any more."

"Or did the boy expect you to save him? Was he waiting for you, Zade? As the water claimed him... was his last thought of you? Did he imagine you appearing before him, reaching out to snatch him from death as he had done for you? Was he waiting for you to rescue him, Zade? Waiting... and wondering where you were... why you had forsaken him... why you had let him die?"

"Stop it!" Zade leapt to her feet and confronted December. "Stop NOW!"

"Why did you let him die, Zade?"

"I TRIED TO SAVE HIM!"

"You tried and you failed. The boy wanted to be saved, and YOU betrayed him."

"I didn't do it on PURPOSE! I TRIED!"

"Try? You tried? Those that fail always whine about how much they 'tried.' I expected something different from you, Zade. I see that I was wrong."

"WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS!"

"A child is dead because of you. Brinks killed him. The flood was the weapon. But it was YOU that let him die."

"STOP!"

"Admit it to yourself, Zade."

"NO!" she cried. "NO! NO! That's NOT how it happened!"

"Is that not what you said? You tried. You tried and you failed. And because of your failure... because of YOU... a child's body lies at the bottom of this river-"

"December, so HELP me I will KILL YOU!"

"-forever entombed in the armor that made him a monster... forever TRAPPED inside the shell of his father's torture."

"GET OUT OF MY WAY!" Zade tried to squeeze past December, but he wouldn't let her pass. He blocked the exit with his body and kept talking.

"Can you see him, Zade? Can you see his face... what expression does he wear? Fear? Terror? Or something worse... something you cannot DARE picture in your mind? Hope? Did the boy die waiting for YOU to save him? At the end, did he finally realize that you had failed him... that you weren't coming... that you had let him die? What do you think THAT face looks like, Zade? Can you see it, now?"

"STOP IT! STOP IT!"

"All because of you. And Brinks. Yes... Gabrial Brinks, and Zade... co-conspiritors in the death of a child!"

"NO!" Zade's hands seemed to move of their own accord... they grasped December around the neck as Zade's anger rose. "SHUT UP! STOP SAYING THESE THINGS!"

"UNHAND me, woman!"

December pushed Zade away... a powerful shove that propelled her down the steps and into the dark water that filled the ship. Suddenly being soaking wet only served to fuel the anger in Zade's heart. December descended a few steps so that she could see him.

"Brinks is an abomination," he said. "Undeserving of even the hope of redemption. But what of YOU? What possible penance can YOU perform to atone for your failure? What would the BOY ask of you? You could not give him his life... so what WILL you give? Perhaps you should use this time to THINK upon it."

December ascended the stairs and stepped out onto the deck. He slid the hatch back down, shutting Zade away in the watery darkness. He spotted a couple of men standing nearby and motioned to them.

"Sir?"

"Find something heavy and place it over this hatch," he instructed. "I do not advise opening it."

---

The crowd of survivors had gathered at the starboard bow to watch the land. The wall surrounding Gabrial Brinks' estate loomed not far ahead. The water had risen to just inside the main gate, and the steep incline of the land meant that the ship would make it almost that far before it ran aground. The Ark was already sailing between the tops of submerged trees. The flood current propelled the ship at a steady speed... a speed that would no doubt smash the wounded ship's hull to pieces when it hit.

December was just walking up to the crowd when the shout came.

"IMPACT! EVERYBODY HOLD ON!"

Theesa appeared at December's side and held onto him as the ship lurched violently. The bow slammed into the stone wall... missing the main gate by several yards. The impact cracked the ship's hull open like an eggshell, and a section of the wall collapsed inward before the mighty ship's advance. The Ark settled awkwardly... resting halfway on the breached wall and halfway on the submerged ground outside it... causing the ship to sit at a slight upward angle. Wooden beams and planks all over the Ark continued to groan and snap several seconds after the impact.

The boat sat on the thin shelf of land outside the wall like a beached whale. Water continued to rise... but the ship would not rise with it. Its life above water was almost at an end, but it had served its purpose.

Men scrambled to retrieve ropes, ladders, planks, sections of the smashed hull,... anything to make a ramp to get the tired and wounded survivors to the ground. One end of a makeshift ramp was thrust overboard, and then began a mad dash for dry land.

"WOMEN AND CHILDREN FIRST!" some of the nobler men shouted. Other men decided that chivalry was dead and that speed was the only determining factor in who got off the boat first. December held Theesa back away from the madness.

"Where's Zade?" she said as they watched the crowd.

"We had a conversation," December replied. He didn't explain or elaborate... he didn't have time to.

The first woman's scream took everyone by surprise. Everyone turned to the young lady to see what had happened... then another woman collapsed without a sound. An arrow protruded from her left breast, where it had pierced her heart. Beside her, a man grunted and fell. On the other side of the crowd, a third woman began howling and screeching in pain.. pain caused by the arrow that had appeared in her left kidney.

"ARCHERS!" someone shouted. That someone died in the next instant, an arrow protruding from the side of his neck.

"The tower," said December. He pulled Theesa with him behind the main mast, where they were shielded from the north tower. There didn't appear to be any arrows coming from the south tower.

All over the deck, men and women ran to and fro, looking for cover... but there was precious little to go around.

"GET BELOW DECKS!" someone yelled. "GET BEL-" The words died with their owner... silenced by an arrow through the upper chest.

December peered around the mast and looked up at the tower.... then quickly leaned back as two arrows whizzed past him.

"Brinks is insane," he said. "His men are firing upon us without provocation-"

Two women on opposite sides of the ship screamed and died. Meanwhile, a small group of men charged down the ramp, intending to end the assault from the inside. A cluster of guards leapt from their hiding places behind the wall and cut the men to pieces. Then, instead of rushing up the ramp and onto the deck, the guards slipped back into their places and waited for then next batch of desperate survivors to come charging down. And with the way the archers were picking them off one by one... it would only be a matter of time.

---

Gabrial Brinks laughed at the sight. He stood in the courtyard and watched the survivors die. He had to admit that it was quite entertaining. And it was an excellent distraction.

"Fools," he chuckled. Brinks fingered the pommel of his sword and looked longingly at the south tower. He would hide there until the water subsided. It was a poor plan, with only a marginal chance of success... but it was the only one he had now that the mages had betrayed him. And now was the perfect time to execute it. He'd sent all the guards out to protect his property... or at least that's what they THOUGHT they were doing. By the time they'd finished slaughtering the boatload of intruders, Brinks intended to have already hidden himself in the south tower. The water would continue to rise, as it was doing even now. Brinks could see it... the 'shore' had advanced six feet in the few minutes immediately before and after the arrival of the Ark. The mansion and its land didn't have long before it was uninhabitable.

"I must gather what valuables I can," said Brinks. "And Dust..."

He watched the archers fire another volley of deadly arrows at the men and women scurrying on the doomed ship's deck. Then he turned to slip back inside unnoticed-

"You!" he gasped.

Dravian stood in the doorway, leaning heavily on the door as blood continued to pour out of the wound that Brinks had given him. Bloody footprints lead a twisted, tortured back into the bowels of the mansion.

"... I never thought... that your mind had slipped this far..." he said. Dravian's voice was a weak gurgle, and ever other word sent droplets of blood streaming down the corners of his mouth. "There's no reason... no reason for all this...death... your greed... has driven you insane..."

"Obviously the wound I gave you was not fatal ENOUGH!"

Brinks drew his sword to slay the mage...again... but Dravian's hand slipped from the door and the mage collapsed onto bloody cobblestones.

"...no... reason..." he groaned. One hand slipped into the pocket of his robe as Brinks stormed toward him. With his last remaining strength, Dravian flung the tiny gem away from him. The gem skittered across the stones and slid into the bushes surrounding the courtyard. "...r-release..." he sighed with his final breath.


"You shall find RELEASE ENOUGH at the end of my sword!" Brinks howled. Then he realized that the mage's last word wasn't directed at him. "Eh?"

Brinks spun around as the creature erupted from the shrubs. Freed from the compression gem, the grotesque floating thing that had attacked the Mage's Guild roared in fury as it expanded to its full, horrifying size. It was the giant mouth, whose gaping maw was surrounded by tentacles that themselves ended in snapping, slavering mouths. The thing hissed and vibrated with anger, then it went about the purpose for which it had originally been summoned: Destruction.

"AAAEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!" Brinks screamed as the thing floated toward him.

Drawn by the creature's roar... and perhaps by Brinks' unmanly scream, the archers in the tower turned their weapons toward the courtyard. They fired arrows into the creature's round, bulbous body. The arrows did no harm whatsoever, but they did activate the creature's other command: Kill whatever attacked it.

The floating mouth rotated and flew upward toward the tower with frightening speed. The archers only had time to fire and reload once before the thing was right outside the tower windows. Whip-like tentacles reached in after them as the giant mouth outside gaped hungrily.

"AAAAIII-" The first archer screamed. He realized too late that screaming had been a mistake. One tentacle shot into his mouth and sucked the brain out of his skull with one gulp. The deadly appendage then snaked down the dead man's throat and began consuming him from the inside.

"YAAAH!" Another archer dropped his bow, drew his sword and charged. Two tentacles caught him in mid-stride, wrapping around him from two directions and yanking him toward the window. The windows were small...just large enough for archers to fire out but not so large that they themselves could become targets from below. They certainly weren't large enough for a man to fit through... but the creature apparently didn't know that. It yanked the archer through the thin, rectangular window, causing his soft, human body to fly apart on impact. Blood and gore sprayed everywhere. Tentacles whipped through the air and snatched some of the tastier bits before they could hit the floor.

Meanwhile, the third archer and Flance the mercenary were frantically reloading and firing... reloading and firing. They sent arrow after arrow into the thing's mouth. The creature ate the arrows gleefully.

"I'M GETTING OUT OF HERE!" The third archer said. He threw down his weapon and ran for the hatch leading to the stairs. Flance turned and fired his next arrow into the man's back.

"I don't fight with COWARDS!" he howled. He drew his sword and sliced at the tentacles that were now converging on him. He made a few tiny wounds, but they weren't enough to stop the creature from gripping him in its deadly embrace. "UNGH!" Flance grunted. His sword arm was pinned to his side by the tentacles that enveloped him. He pounded at the slimy tentacles with his free hand as the creature yanked him toward the window. Desperate, Flance reached for the pouch at his side and threw what remained of Brinks' Dust right into the thing's mouth. The flying creature sucked the pouch down greedily-

-then its whole body convulsed as the powerful drugs took effect. The convulsion caused the tentacles to contract... including those that held Flance. Flance grunted, and finally screamed as his back, ribs, and right arm snapped in a symphony of breaking bones. Then the creature went limp. Flance's broken body fell to the floor. Shards of bloody bone protruded from his chest; blood pumped from his body like a fountain. Amazingly, the mercenary was still alive when N'Doki's third and final command to the creature took effect: When mortally wounded... Self Destruct.

KA-WHOOOOM!

The explosion shook the entire mansion, and the fireball was so bright that it dazed those who looked directly at it. The wave of fire, dark magic, and explosive energy slammed into the tower and instantly reduced its upper half to shower of charred, flaming debris.

Gabrial Brinks missed it entirely. When the explosion hit, he was already inside the mansion, frantically locking the doors behind him. The shockwave threw him to the floor. He rushed to the window and saw the broken, smouldering spire that had once been the north tower.

"No!" he gasped. "NO! I have to hide! I have to save my treasure... and HIDE!" He ran down the hall toward his treasure room.

The guards by the main gate had witnessed the attack and the explosion that followed. With weapons already bloodied, they had been waiting for more survivors to come down from the Ark. But now they were having second thoughts.

"Did you see that?"

"What was it!?"

"Is it gone!? Is it GONE!?!"

"LOOK!"

They all turned toward the Ark, where two figures were descending toward them. Not a crowd, or a mob... only two. A very large man, and a very small woman. Their appearance was strange... especially the man... and they didn't seem worried that ten armed men were waiting for them at the bottom of the ramp. Not worried at all.

When they'd gotten a third of the way down, the woman, a small frail-looking blonde, stepped in front of the man.

"And who the hell are YOU supposed ta be?" said one of the guards.

"Me?" said the woman. "I'm the person who has this..." The woman reached up the sleeve of her wet, fur-lined gown and retrieved a small rod. "Do any of you recognize it?" The rod expanded in her hand, becoming a full-length staff, which began to glow wickedly, as if a roaring fire were trapped inside of it. "Do you recognize it NOW?"

They did recognize it. They knew what it was, what it could do... and who the woman had to have KILLED in order to possess it. At that instant, all remnants of morale and loyalty in the guards withered and died. They saw Faction's staff in the woman's hands, and did the only thing they COULD do...

"RUNN!"

Guards dropped their weapons and scattered. Theesa pointed the staff and sprayed a plume of orange fire over their heads as they fled. December stepped beside her, and the enchanted staff began to flicker. Theesa deactivated it.

"Did I do that right?" she said.

December looked out at the fleeing guards.

"Perfectly," he replied.

"The water-" Theesa pointed. Water was now beginning to pour over the Brinks property... snaking across the grass and pooling in the low-lying areas to form tiny lakes.

"We do not have long," said December.

"What are we going to do?"

"I am going inside-" December pointed to the mansion. "Ensure that everyone leaves the Ark, then have someone unseal the hatch to the lower level... I suggest you be far away when it is done. No one is to follow me into the mansion."

"But-"

"Especially you."

December walked down the ramp and started toward the courtyard. The wet ground froze as he went, leaving a trail of icy footprints in his wake...

---

The ballroom was empty, so no one saw the frightened, panic-striken expression on Gabrial Brinks face as he returned from his chamber of horded treasure. He stumbled and staggered under the load of trinkets and gold bars that he carried. His clothes hung low on his body, weighed down by pockets filled with coins.

"...have to hide... have to hide..." he muttered. "I must live! I have to live to rebuild my empire!"

Brinks started toward the door, but then tripped on his own feet. His treasure spilled from his arms and clattered over the floor. He knelt to gather as much as he could, but one of his pockets ripped, spilling coins and small items out onto what he had already dropped.

"DAMMIT!" he cursed.

He scooped up an armload of treasure and stood, leaving the rest where it lay-

"AA!" he gasped.

He wasn't alone in the ballroom.

There were dozens of them. Hundreds. Men and women... mostly men... all standing around him like an angry mob. Their faces were deathly pale, and their clothes were all variations of the same dull grey color. They seemed to shimmer in the light that came through the windows... rays of sunlight passed right through them, as if they weren't really there at all.

"Who... who ARE YOU PEOPLE!"

"Welcome," said a voice from the crowd.

"GET OUT! GET OUT OF MY HOME! This is MY treasure... you CAN'T HAVE IT!"

"Welcome," repeated another voice.

"Welcome," they all said at once.

"WHO ARE YOU!"

And then, just as suddenly as they appeared... the Multitude was gone.

KREEEEEE---

The noise was coming from the main entrance The formidable wood and metal door was creaking noisily as its temperature began to fall. Frost formed on the area near the lock. The wood cracked apart and splintered from the ice forming within it. Metal became brittle, and suddenly the huge latch, and part of the door as well, fell away.

The clang it made when it hit the floor and shattered made Brinks jump... more of his treasure slipped out of his grasp.

The door creaked open slowly.

Footsteps.

Slow and methodical.

December entered the ballroom, pausing briefly to shut the door before walking toward Brinks. He still walked with a slight limp, but it didn't detract from his frightening presence. It was as if the devil himself had entered the room, bringing with him all of the winters that had ever been and ever will be.

Shivering from fear, Brinks dropped his treasure and drew his sword. A thin trickle of Dravian's blood snaked down the blade as he backed away from the intruder. His other hand went instinctively to his neck, where the crystal that the mages had created hung by golden chain. He stroked the gem nervously.

"G-Guards!" he called. "GUARDS!"

"There are no guards, Gabrial," said December. His voice was low and surprisingly gentle... but it was still like thunder in Brinks' ears.

"HELLP! THORNE! FACTION! ANYBODY!!!"

"They are all dead. There is no one to help you."

Brinks stepped to one side and tried to circle December in an attempt to get in the clear so that he could make a run for the door. December cut him off, moving to confront Brinks no matter which way Brinks moved.

Brinks waved his sword before him, making a few reluctant, amateurish slices in the air.

"I... I know how to use this!"

"Then use it."

"You can't hurt me! YOU CAN'T HURT ME!"

Brinks thrust his sword toward December. December stepped forward and to the side... he grabbed Brinks' hand as the blade went past him.

"AAAAAA!!!" Brinks screamed.

December pulled... a gentle tug... and Brinks' frozen, brittle hand came off at the wrist.

"AAAAAAAGH!" Brinks backed away, holding the frozen stump in front of his face and looking at it in horrified shock. December dropped the severed appendage. It and the sword broke into several pieces when it hit the floor. December stepped toward Brinks, and Brinks fell to his knees. "Please! Please don't kill me!"

"You misunderstand my intention," said December. "You were not worth killing those many years ago... and you are STILL beneath my notice even now. I have not come for you, Gabrial Brinks."

"You... you... you haven't?"

"No."

December backed away and started walking toward the hallway. Then he stopped and turned back, pointing at the main door.

"But SHE has."

"Wh-What?"

"BRRRRRRRRINNNKS!"

Brinks' eyes widened as the thing came running through the doorway toward him. The half-wolf, humanoid thing was barely able to walk upright, but was still fast enough to be upon him before he could run. But the time Brinks had gotten to his feet, he was looking down the fanged, snarling snout of the thing that had come for him. A hand that was not truly a hand grasped his throat and lifted him off his feet...

"w-w-what are you--" Brinks gaped. The eyes of the predator locked with his. There was an answer in those eyes, swimming amidst the rage and hunger was the answer to Brinks's question. The veil of fear and greed lifted for the briefest instant, and in that instant Brinks knew that this was the end that all his works... all the evil he had done... had earned him.

"Some men say that vengeance does nothing for the soul," said December. "Those men are fools. Enjoy oblivion, Mr. Brinks."

The wolf-creature tossed Brinks across the room. Brinks felt several things break as he hit the wall and slid to the floor. Something gave in his back. He couldn't move... all he could do was look and scream as the werewolf charged him... the humanoid shape becoming less human and more canine with every step. The hair that covered its body grew longer... the snout lengthened...

"PLEEEASE!" Brinks screamed. "HAVE MERCY!"

The fully-canine creature leapt on top of his prone form and clamped down on his neck. Brinks felt the wolf's huge fangs sink into his flesh... he felt the fangs shredding his flesh as the wolf ripped out his throat. He tried to scream again, but could not. He looked up into the creature's eyes as its jaws came for him again.

The eyes...

...in his last instant of consciousness, Brinks saw something reflected in them. A shape... a man clad in magnificent golden armor...

...and then darkness.

December watched as the wolf literally tore Brinks apart. His head lowered in a slight nod.

"My apologies," he said to the wolf, who had yet to even notice he was there. Then he turned away and left the room. He navigated the hallways according to the description that Zade had given him after the ball. He found the secret door, and then Brinks' treasure room. December walked through the piles of stolen and illicit treasure without looking at any of it. It didn't interest him in the least.

The Heart of Verraque lay discarded in the corner. December picked it up and held the large gem in his hand. He looked at the small pool of water that sat at its heart. He felt the thing hum slightly in his palm.

"It was not Gabrial Brinks that destroyed New Venyce. Not his greed, nor all of the mages and assassins in his employ. It was you. Now I possess the Heart, and I command... I DEMAND... that you reveal yourself to your new master."

The gem throbbed and pulsed... like a living heart... and then it began to rain. Inside the treasure room, and all throughout Brinks' mansion water fell from the ceiling as if the heavens had opened up within its walls. Rain fell outside as well... the sudden downpour added to the steadily rising water that had already driven the survivors away from the fringes of he property.

December brushed the frozen raindrops away from his face and watched as the water collected in the floor, turning to ice at his feet. Then the amazing happened.... the rain began to draw toward the center of the room, where it became an column of falling raindrops. The drops fell constantly, yet their paths seemed to coalesce into a shape... a shape that didn't EMERGE from the rain, but actually WAS rain... a nine-foot tall man composed of falling raindrops.

Verraque towered over December. He looked down at the mortal and frowned. He leaned forward and pointed a watery finger at the man who had summoned him. Then he spoke. Verraque's voice was a powerful hiss... like a hard rain against wet stone

"YOU DARE ADDRESS ME WITH SUCH INSOLENCE-"

-crick-

Verraque's hissing silenced as he... and all the water in the room... suddenly became ice. Flash frozen by the sudden drop in temperature. The droplets that formed his body fell to the frozen floor and collected in a large pile. December looked down at it, scratched his chin, and waited.

-KSSSHHH-

And then, just as suddenly, all of the ice reverted to water. Verraque reformed himself before December's watching eyes.

"MORTAL! I SHALL DROWN YOU WITH-"

-crick-

...


-KSHHHH-

Verraque reformed himself for the second time. He hissed angrily and pointed at December-

"YOU-"

"I have no patience for the theatrics of a useless and forgotten god. End this melodrama... NOW!"

Verraque reacted as if stricken. He drew back... then shrank down to a more reasonable size, though he was still taller than December. The raingod paced back and forth in front of him, examining December the way that a master would examine a new slave.

"What have we here?" said Verraque. "A mortal with spirit... and power. Or perhaps I spoke too soon-" Verraque leaned forward, bringing his face close to December's. Verraque's nose froze and fell off, but it reformed as soon as he backed away. "Yes," he said. "You are no mortal. You are more... and less. You bear the stench of SHE who cursed me!"

"I am December."

"I know who you are, godling. But do YOU? The tears of a goddess flow like blood through your veins. You were mortal once... but do you know what you have become since?"

"I have become your master," said December. "And I command you to undo what you have wrought upon this city."

"HAHAHAHAAA!"

"I command it!"

"You command the impossible. I am lord of the rain! I command that which falls... not that which has already fallen."

"Like so many who would call themselves gods, you so easily destroy that which you cannot restore," said December. "All for your own amusement."

"Amusement? BAH! You heed the myths and legends too closely, godling. I am a god of VENGEANCE and DIVINE WRATH! This town has received my JUDGEMENT!!"

"Judgement," December spat.

"YES! This place was corrupt to its very core... a BLIGHT upon all that surrounded it. A blight which I have now washed away."

"And what of those innocents who you washed away as well?"

"ANYONE worth saving would have fled this place LONG ago! Nothing remained but evil and decadence!

"So you say, but who are YOU to judge the lives of mortals-"

"I am a GOD!"

"And like all gods, you know NOTHING of humanity."

"YOU DARE-"

"Yes I DO dare! HOW can a god know of that which is alien to his very nature! How can a god comprehend fear? Or pain? How can immortal beings know the meaning of loss... sorrow... or sacrifice? You sit upon your thrones and watch... but how can you KNOW the humanity you judge unless you have experienced it for yourself! For gods, SACRIFICE is something that others will forever do for YOU... NOT that which you will do for others."

"And what do YOU know of it, spawn of Drya?"

"I have both lost and gained more than you will ever comprehend, no matter HOW infinite your supposed 'divine wisdom.' I have experienced things that you have only watched from afar!"

"I am a god of vengeance... such things are irrelevant to me."

"And that is why you find yourself bound to THIS-" December raised the Heart. "Have you learned nothing?"

"I have learned that humanity will always be a race of sniveling, cowardly APES!"

"And what does that say of the gods that lord over them? With their curses and judgements and divine wrath... even a CHILD can recognize that a course of action that results in constant failure is flawed in itself. Yet you CONTINUE to PLAGUE humanity with threats and punishments that in the end achieve NOTHING!"

"Nothing? There is one less city in the world... and you call this nothing?"

"Petty posturing by an impotent deity."

"Perhaps I should bestow my wrath upon ANOTHER deserving city, then.... MONTFORT perhaps!" Verraque waved his hand in a sweeping motion. "THERE! It rains there now even as we speak! How long before the river floods? Days? Weeks?"

"Strike from a distance," said December. "Without seeing the faces of those you destroy. And you call US sniveling, cowardly apes..."

"I see everything that the rain sees!"

"Then you are worse. You are a fool who destroys for no reason other than his own enjoyment."

"DIVINE WRATH!"

"Against WHAT! Against WHO! Name ONE in Montfort that is so evil that he brings judgement against the entire city!"

"There are DOZENS!"

"I asked for only one."

"VonSinterbourne!"

"A buffoon that is already dead."

"Fournap! Amberghylles!"

"Not hardly worth the destruction of a city."

"....CHIRNOMYR!"

"I am not in Montfort. Now end your meddling there before you inadvertently anger a REAL diety."

"I AM a real god!"

"You are a slave. You are a slave, not to the possessor of the Heart... but to your own nature. You cannot change-"

"You LIE! ALL is within my power!"

"Then restore New Venyce."

"I will not mix words with a m-"

"Mortal? You admit that I am mortal, now?"

"You ANGER me!"

"You anger me by your very existence," said December. "Your petty tampering has cost lives that need not have been lost. You wished Brinks gone... he would have been in due time. I would have seen to it. Or is the eternal god of the rain too impatient to let the mortals sort out their own affairs?"

"Why do you argue for these... these lesser beings. They are BENEATH you. Beneath US! Do you not KNOW what you are!"

"I am December who once bore the name Chirnomyr. Son of Viktirdin. Brother of Andreglas. I was born in the Frozen Lands. And I am no more a god than YOU are a human."

"You fool yourself, godling!"

"I am what I have made myself to be. If fate wished to make me a god, then she has failed... for here I stand. Still human. Still mortal."

"Only because you lack vision. Fate is not yet done with you," said Verraque. "Your crossroads is ahead of you... not behind-"

"You speak of riddles and nonsense... yet you still have not restored New Venyce."

"I cannot!"

"...and you call yourself a superior being?" said December. "ANYONE can destroy. The fact that you can do it more easily than others does not make you worthy of worship, or reverence, or anything other than hatred and fear."

"Then FEAR me!"

"No," said December.

"When LONG after you had passed... when all that you know and all that you have done are no longer even memories... I will STILL be here! I will STILL pass judgement upon those foolish enough to covet my power! As long as I am tied to the mortal realm, then the mortal realm shall KNOW MY WRATH!"

"Then be tied to it no longer."

December looked down at the Heart of Verraque. He unleashed his power... power given to him by the Queen of Unending Winters herself... the water within the gem froze... and expanded...

-and the gem shattered in his hands.

Verraque looked on in astonishment and awe. The tiny chunk of ice at the gem's center returned to a liquid state and flowed into his body... where it belonged.

"You-"

"Have freed you. The power of Drya bound you to he world of men... and I have used that same power to release you. Your imprisonment has ended."

Verraque was speechless. Freedom was the last thing he expected. He had been bound so long that the very concept of freedom was almost alien to him.

"I do not covet your power," said December. "And Brinks was a fool who knew not what he had. Others will not be as ignorant. I free you not because you deserve it, but because you are a weapon that I cannot allow to be used against me... or against anyone else. Now return to your insignificant realm and fade into obscurity with the rest of your pantheon."

Verraque looked down at the shattered fragments of the vessel that had held his heart. He felt the wrath and rage drain out of him as the full realization of what December had done settled in.

"...Home..." he said. "My father. My brothers. I can finally return to them... I am finally free, after all these many years."

"Then begone."

"I owe you my freedom, Son of Drya."

"You owe me nothing... save perhaps a hasty exit from this place."

"And what of you? The water will continue to rise until it covers this place. I cannot stop that, even to save the one who freed me."

"You do not care for the plight of mortals," December reminded him. "You are a god of divine wrath."

"You are right, I care not for them. But you... I see it within you that you wish to save them. You cannot."

"I will be the judge of what I can and cannot do. Begone... Leave this world and never return. We mortals will see to our own needs in SPITE the interference of the gods... as we have always done."

"That is where you are wrong," said Verraque. "You name yourself among the mortals... but you can be much, much more."

"I am what-"

"I speak not of what you ARE... but of what you CAN be. I can show you."

"I have already seen that of which I am capable. Destruction. Chaos. Death. This I have seen with my own eyes. You can show me no more than that."

"You speak of what results when you attempt to be other than what you are... or what you can be. You embrace humanity, but it does not embrace you. You can try to go back to what you were... and always fail. You can remain as you are, a cruel imitation of humanity... or you can see what else awaits you."

"I have ALREADY seen-"

"You saw what you wished to see. Now let me show you the truth-" Verraque stepped forward and extended his hand. A tiny fountain of pure water erupted from his palm. The stream of water made a tiny arc in the air before falling to the floor. "I owe you my freedom. Accept this gift... A taste of what you can be. A brief glimpse... enough to save those mortals outside."

"You think me a fool."

"You say that the gods know nothing of humanity. Yet you hate us... you JUDGE us... while you yourself have no knowledge of what we are. Perhaps you are more like us than you will admit. How can you wish to remain mortal when you know nothing of the alternative? How can you hate ME... when your own pride and paranoia prevents you from saving those who need your help?"

December looked at the tiny fountain... and then up at Verraque...

---

The water had chased them inland like a hungry animal. The Ark was gone... slipped into the depths shortly after the last person disembarked. The wall around Brinks' property was half-submerged. The trees outside were slowly disappearing... their proud pinnacles vanishing one by one. There was nothing before them now but water. High mountains rose in distance... their slopes formed the valley of a new sea... a sea that rose higher and higher with every minute. Inside the walls, those few shrubs and gardens that remained had become swamps. The survivors crowded on a thin shelf of land surrounding the mansion. Soon, they would be forced to seek shelter inside despite December's request. That shelter would only last a few minutes before the mansion flooded. If they could make it onto the roof, then they could possibly survive another hour or so.

"What are we going to do now?" said one woman.

"We wait," Theesa replied.

"We should go inside now-"

"No! He said to wait outside."

"But the water is rising. See... you can SEE it rising higher! And what if it starts RAINING again! Your friend has found a way out and deserted us! Either that or he's dead!"

"Don't be absurd."

"Then what is he DOING in there!"

"Someone's coming!" another woman shouted

The mansion's doors slowly swung open, and a solitary figure emerged into the courtyard. It was December... only it wasn't. It was his face... his body... but there was an unseen aura about him that radiated a power that had been absent when he had entered the mansion not long ago. His eyes glowed brilliantly, like two lanterns casting a fierce blue light upon everything that dared step into his gaze. His every step reverberated through the onlookers, vibrating through their very souls like shots from a cannon, even though the steps themselves were uncannily silent.

The crowd split before him as he approached, giving him wide berth to pass through their numbers. Theesa walked up to... she reached out to touch him, but she drew her hand back. Somehow, touching him seemed *wrong*... like a blasphemy of the worst kind. She walked beside and slightly behind him as he made his way to the edge of the water, just beyond the cobblestone courtyard.

"December?" she said tentatively. Even speaking to him... saying his name and looking at his face... felt as if she were desecrating some holy altar. She wanted to say more; she wanted to ask him what had happened to him... but she couldn't bring herself to do it. She too filled with awe and... fear.

December stretched his hand out before him, pointing his fingers at the water.

"Rise," he said.

No sooner had the word left his lips than there began a bubbling turbulence out in the water, many yards beyond the wall. There, amidst the trees... something rose.

Theesa gasped as it came into view. Slowly it rose... slowly and steadily, a huge white shape reached out of the water.

It was a ship. As large as the Ark, but more magnificent than the wrecked Ark could ever have been, even in its prime. Every inch of it was made of solid ice, carved and perfectly sculpted by some force that remained unseen beneath the water. The ship's hull came into view, thick and imposing... and beautiful. A multitude of designs and figures decorated its surface, reaching out from the hull in a bas-relief. The water fell away from it as if ashamed to touch its surface. The bow was in the shape of a mighty hawk, its eyes searching the horizon. Every detail was perfect. Finally, the ship rested atop the water, a majestic vessel born of ice and imagination... and power.

But December was not finished. Something else rose from the water between the crowd and the ship... a long white shape that reached from the land all the way out to where the ship sat. It was a walkway of ice, fifty feet wide. The far end of it angled upward until it touched the ship's deck. Theesa stepped back as the near end of stretched toward her... the solid ice flowing across the land like water. It stopped at her feet. Theesa reached down to touch it, not quite sure if she should believe it was real. It was. She stood, and saw December looking down at her. He grabbed her hand, and together they walked out onto the water. Their feet didn't slip on the ice; there were thousands of tiny grooves in the walkway's surface, providing enough traction for them to walk without fear of falling. They made their way toward the ship in silence. Halfway there, December stopped and turned around. He pointed to the mansion, and the main doors opened further... revealing another shape. It was a large cage made of ice. It hovered in the air with no visible means of support, and inside of it was a wolf feral wolf. The beast snarled and scratched at the bars. It bit and clawed at the cage, but the ice would not break.

The cage and its contents floated above the crowd and out to the ship, where it sank into a perfctly-sized hole in the deck and vanished below the deck. Then, December and Theesa continued their walk.

The other survivors joined them, lining up and walking calmly toward the miracle that had come to rescue them. There was no running or screaming or pushing... such behavior just seemed too far out of place. It was as if they were walking into holy place, and they conducted themselves accordingly.

When the last person stepped onto the deck, a few straggling shapes ran from the mansion... the last of Brinks' guards. They sprinted out of their hiding places and made a mad dash for the ramp. They started across, running as fast as they could... but the ramp began to sink the second they touched it. It didn't crack or fall apart.. it just sank into the water, just as quickly and silently as it had risen. The water swept over its surface and snatched the screaming guards away. The current carried them off into the distance.

Then the ship began to move. There were no sails or masts, no method or mechanism to propel the mighty vessel... but it moved anyway. It moved AGAINST the strong current that had just taken the guards, heading north, toward the mountains.

December and Theesa stood at the ship's bow and watched the water as the ship moved across it. Theesa looked back at the boat. Solid ice. With no sign of melting, despite the sun overhead. Then she turned to December.

"How?" she said.

"Verraque," he replied. That was all he said. Theesa knew better than to question him further... but she also knew that there was more to it than that. The look on December's face revealed much. The curious tilt of his eyebrow... the furrow of his forehead. He wasn't really there... he was deep inside his own mind. Thinking. Calculating. He wasn't happy, or unhappy... he was deciding which of those he SHOULD be.

They continued northward, moving incredibly fast... leaving the doomed island of Brinks far behind him. The manse became a tiny dot on the horizon before it finally faded from view.

"I can feel the power fading," said December not long afterward. Theesa could tell. The boat was moving much more slowly now. And December seemed less imposing... less inhuman... than he had when he'd emerged from the mansion. The fiery blue glow in his eyes was now just a flicker.

"What now? Will we stop?"

"We will make it to the mountains... but no further. We will be safe there. There will be passages to the other side of the mountain, where the survivors can take refuge in the trade outposts. Once we are far enough from New Venyce, Lovvorn will be able to locate us and bring us back to Montfort. By then, the power will be but a memory."

"You sound disappointed. You sound like you want to go BACK there... to New Venyce."

"Back? No."

"What is it, then?"

"I have tasted power..." December shook his head, unable to form words to describe what he had experienced.... what he was still experiencing. "... I had no idea... no concept. To attempt to describe it is to try and hold the ocean in one's hand. It simply... cannot be done."

"But it wasn't you," said Theesa. "It was Verraque's power... wasn't it?"

"That is the lie that I will tell myself," said December. "When I sit awake at night, I will convince myself that all the rain-god did was use his power to amplify mine. But the truth is something much more disturbing. Verraque unlocked a door and let it fall open for a brief moment... just long enough for me to glimpse what lay on the other side. The door is closing now, but the memory remains."

"Then how much of it... how much of THIS... is you?"

"I do not know," said December. "And that.. is what frightens me."

"You?" said Theesa. "Frightened?"

"I have seen a fraction of my true potential, Theesa." said December. He looked into Theesa's eyes, and she knew the truth of his next words before he even spoke them. "I have seen what I might become... and I am terrified by it."