The waterfront area of New Venyce was normally quiet after dark. The shops and markets closed, the warehouses shut their doors and the flow of river boats slowed to a trickle. On a normal night, the only sounds that dared break the peaceful silence was the rise and fall of the mighty river, and the occasional song of a wandering drunk.

But tonight was not a normal night.

A flooded platform beneath one of New Venyce's famed elevated buildings was the scene of a fierce combat that shattered the silence with battle cries, shouts, grunts, and the constant splashing of the combatants as they performed their deadly dance. Zade and Faction fought like twin whirlwinds of violence, each raining punches and kicks down upon the other. Zade's strength, reflexes, and endurance met Faction' incredible skill and brutality head on. The tide of battle shifted rapidly between the two, with the landing of a single punch or kick determining who had the advantage for the next round of attacks. Faction was nearly impossible to hit; he dodged, leapt, and twirled away from Zade's attacks... becoming like the untouchable inhuman shadow he pretended to be. Zade, however, absorbed blow after crushing blow as if she were made of granite. Her own quick movements kept Faction's attacks away from fatal areas which would have ended the fight almost immediately... but her chest, abdomen, arms and back weathered multiple-punch combinations from her opponent. Faction's strikes ranged from hard enough to render a man unconscious to hard enough to shatter brick. Some of Zade's attacks were even harder. The fight continued for several minutes, with Zade showing no signs of tiring from her exertions, and Faction not seeming to exert himself at all.

Faction came at her with a rapid combination that crammed seven punches into less than two seconds. Zade blocked six, dodged the last one, and drove her knee upward into Faction's gut. Faction blocked with a downward movement of his arm, then threw a ridge-hand strike to Zade's exposed neck. Zade ducked around the swinging hand and came up already throwing a back-fist strike to Faction's concealed face... only Faction's face was gone. The cloaked assassin had gone into a back-flip, and one of his boots caught Zade on the chin as he flipped away. Zade stepped back into one of the many variations of fighting stances she used... one fist held low in front of he knee, the other back behind her ear. Faction assumed an identical stance not two yards away. There was a moment's pause, then both combatants rushed toward each other. At the last second, Faction leapt into the air and flipped over Zade's head. He landed behind her, but the instant before his feet touched the water, Zade twisted into a powerful back-kick that caught him in the lower chest and threw him backward. He flipped and landed on his feet in a different fighting stance, one fist held in front of his chest. Zade rushed him, throwing punches and kicks that only became harder and more fierce as the seconds passed. Faction blocked them all easily. Some of his blocks were harder than Zade's attacks. Without warning, he rotated to one side and pummeled Zade's left kidney with a single punch as he twirled out of her reach.

Zade hissed in pain, but she didn't let it break her concentration. That would have been fatal.

Faction descended on her with another whirlwind of bone-breaking attacks. Zade pushed her reflexes to the limit... blocking, dodging, and ultimately failing to keep Faction from breaking through her defenses. A series of rapid feints drew Zade's attention away from his true attack... that was when he hit her with so many punches in two second that she couldn't even count them. Zade staggered back, blood pouring from her lips and nose. She knew her skull should have been broken... but it wasn't. Just as this was not a normal night, Zade was not a normal human. The curse of lycanthropy had hardened her flesh and bones... she was slow to injure, and quick to heal. When Faction swept in for the killing blow, Zade sprung from her crouching position, buried her fist in his solar plexus and then cracked her elbow across his sneering mouth. Her other hand was already going for the delicate nerves and arteries in his throat, but Faction pulled back, twisted sharply to one side. He jabbed his elbow down into the center of Zade's back. Pain shot up and down Zade's spine. Faction delivered a ridge-hand blow to Zade's neck, just under her skull. Her neck didn't break as Faction had planned, but the pain was enough to send Zade staggering wildly away from him. He threw a front snap kick, but in a surprise move, Zade reached out and grabbed his leg in mid-air. She jerked it sharply upward, but Faction flipped end-over-end like a gymnast and landed on his feet. He leaned back just enough to avoid having his jaw broken by Zade's roundhouse kick. Zade backed away; so did Faction. They circled each other warily...

"You still live," said Faction. "Impressive... or it WOULD be if you were human."

Zade didn't let his words faze her. She kept her eyes glued to his... waiting for the tell-tale signs of an attack.

"I have studied you," he continued. "Your movements are fast... your flesh is strong. Clearly you are not human, yet you still pretend to fight like one. That shall be your undoing."

"I'm still standing," replied Zade.

"Only because you are not what you pretend to be. Tell me... how does it feel to know your life still burns not because of your skill, but because of what you are. Because you are some inhuman thing..."

The fleeting glimmer of anger that flashed across Zade's face was more than enough. Faction smiled and nodded slowly.

"Ahhh..." he said. "You know I speak the truth. You know you would have died ten times over if we had faced each other as man to woman. And the unfortunate part is... you will STILL die by my hand. Right here... tonight..."

"You can talk the talk, Faction, but so far all you've managed to do is kill is a defenseless old man."

"I am an assassin of the highest order," said Faction. "And you are but a common thug with delusions of humanity."

"I've MET assassins of the 'highest order'... and if you think you rank alongside them, then believe me, YOU'RE the one with delusions. I know people in Montfort that can turn you into a thin red smear in about three seconds."

"A pity they are not here to help you."

Faction leapt at Zade, foot extended in a flying side kick. Zade dodged to the right, but Faction twisted in mid-air and still caught Zade with a powerful blow. Zade shrugged off Faction's kick and dove into him with a series of four-punch combinations. Faction blocked, Zade struck harder and faster... putting her anger behind her fists. Faction slapped her punches away as if she were some rank amateur. She faked a punch, then stepped back and threw a kick that sailed right past Faction's head. Faction lunged suddenly, striking like a cobra... his hand extended in a three-finger strike to Zade's throat. Zade felt her tracheal cartilages crack; pain blossomed in her neck. Faction went for the throat again, this time in a fierce grabbing motion that crushed her thyroid cartilage. Internal bleeding and swelling sealed off her windpipe and shut off her air supply. Zade caught Faction's arm before he could withdraw from the blow. She twisted it, but the heel of Faction's boot cracked across her forehead before she could execute the maneuver. She let him go and tried to back away, but a front-snap kick sent tiny glowing moons and stars floating across her field of vision. Faction leapt forward and delivered a flurry of rock-breaking punches to fifteen places on her body in under four seconds... by the last punch, Zade couldn't even tell if she was still standing or not. She felt her consciousness begin to slip away even as the delicate tissues of her throat slid back into place. Anger boiled to the surface, and with it came traces of the beast that lurked within...

"DAMN you, woman!" Faction hissed. Zade swayed back and forth before him, still managing to remain on her feet. Faction threw a series of roundhouse kicks to her head-

CRACK!

"-WHY don't you just-"

CRACK!

"-Fall Down-"

CRACK!

"And DIE!"

CRACK - SPLASH!

Zade fell backward, but the foot-deep water helped bring her around. She struggled to her hands and knees...

Faction's ridge-hand strike caught her squarely on the back of the neck. She fell face-down in the water... and came up again, growling deep down in her throat. A punch to the back of the head put her down again... and AGAIN she rose. He facial features already changing... elongating... then settling back into place... then elongating again...

Faction grabbed her by the hair and yanked her to her feet... then fell to a kneeling position while dropping Zade's back across his upthrust knee. Zade's back cracked with a wet, painful popping sound. Half of her body went numb... then the pain slowly began seeping back into her mind as the injury healed. Faction shoved her over into the water and stood. He watched Zade as she squirmed, trying to lift her head above the water.

"Did you really think you could defeat me?" said Faction.

Zade's only response was a deepening growl. Another punch to the back of the neck silenced it. Zade held onto her consciousness by the tiniest of shreds, refusing to let it go even as the red, wild anger swarmed over her. She tried to hold it back, but it was like trying to stop a raging flood with her bare hands. Her limbs trembled as both she and the beast fought for control.

"Now we finish this," said Faction. Leaving Zade for the moment, he walked over to where his enchanted staff had landed. He reached into the water to retrieve it, but as his fingers were brushing across the rod, he heard a rapid splashing sound behind him. It was a last valiant and foolish charge by a woman who had already lost two battles... one with Faction and the other with herself. Faction stopped her cold with a powerful kick to the throat, which he followed with a spinning back-kick that shattered ribs, ruptured organs, and sent Zade literally flying backwards. She crashed into the pile of smouldering driftwood and rubbish that served as Emory Tibbs burial mound. She smashed through the rotted wall and vanished into the wet darkness inside. Faction reached down and grabbed his staff. He activated it with quick movement of the fingers; the rod grew to its full length and began to glow as if a raging fire were trapped inside it.

"No bodies," he said as he aimed the staff at the burning remains of the building. "No witnesses."

Searing flame erupted from the end of the weapon... an enormous jet of orange and blue fire slammed into the building like a giant fist. Everything above the water became ashes. The murky water boiled violently, releasing a billowing cloud of steam that enveloped everything nearby. Faction continued blasting the area with flames for more than a minute... sweeping the staff back and forth, bathing the area with fire until the water around his own boots was boiling like a cauldron. Another quick motion deactivated the staff. The weapon shrank back into a tiny rod, which he calmly stuffed up his left sleeve. He backed away until the water was bearable; then watched the area for another few minutes. Satisfied that nothing had escaped the conflagration intact, Faction stepped into the shadows and was gone.

If he had only stayed to watch a minute longer, he would have seen the angry, snarling beast explode from the flames and boiling water like a rising phoenix. The beast howled in anger and confusion as thousands of alien scents assaulted its nose... smoke and steam, fear and sweat, blood... death. She had to get away from this place... had to seek out familiar grounds. Then it would feed. Then it would hunt the one that injured it. The huge wolf's mighty leaps carried it away from the scene of its transformation and out into the night.


---

"Mmmmm..." Theesa moaned as her mind drifted out of its deep sleep. The sights and sounds of her dreams mixed with those of the waking world, and for a few uncomfortable seconds Theesa couldn't tell what was real and what wasn't. She blinked a few times and wiped the sleep from her eyes... that seemed to do the trick. The ghosts and the horrible evil thing stalking her through the streets of Montfort... THAT was the dream. The wolf howling outside on the street below them, THAT was real. "December?" she called.

December wasn't sleeping beside her; she knew that without looking. It was much too warm. But he was in the room, peering out of the window. She saw his broad shoulders and muscular frame outlined in the moonlight. And if there was moonlight...

"The rain stopped?" she mumbled.

"Yes," December replied. "However we have more immediate concerns than the weather."

Outside, the wolf continued to howl... a long, lonely baying that sent shivers down Theesa's spine. Soon the howling was joined by angry shouts from neighbors. Theesa could make out Azarius Park's voice among them.

"They have wolves in New Venyce?" she said.

"They do now." December stepped away from the window and drew the curtains closed. He went over to his bags and began searching through them.

"What are you looking for?"

December removed a small cloth-wrapped bundle from a hidden pouch in his suitcase. Theesa could smell the thick, sweet, herbal scent from across the room.

"What is that?"

"Never you mind," said December. He threw on his coat... completely unnecessary since he didn't feel the cold... and slipped his feet into his boots. "I shall return shortly. Do not venture outside this room while I am gone."

"Be careful," said Theesa. She rolled over and listened as December left the room. Then she shuddered as the wolf continued to howl.


---

"...always knew this place was going to the dogs," Azarius Park grumbled. He thrust his arms into the sleeves of his coat and yanked the garment tightly around him. "but DAMMIT I didn't mean it LITERALLY!"

The wolf outside let loose with another long, mournful, sleep-shattering howl. Dr. Park stormed out of his bedroom and headed down the stairs to the lower level. He paused in the living room to snatch a small crossbow from the mantle over his fireplace. Then he trod angrily down the exterior steps to the street which ran between his loft and the Golden Eagle inn.

There was no sign of the wolf, but he could still hear the thing howling.

"Must be around to the side of the inn," Dr. Park spat. "Heh... ya wanna let your mangy animal roam the streets, eh? Wanna cheat an old man out of his sleep, eh?" Azarius loaded a bolt in his crossbow as he walked across the street. "They got LAWS against loud noises in the middle of the DAMNED NIGHT!" he shouted as he adjusted the tension on his bow. "Damned mutt better be GONE by the time I get around there!"

"Ahem..."

"eh?" Dr. Park turned around sharply and saw December descending the stairs from the inn. "That mutt wake YOU up, too? Don't you worry, I got something for him!" Dr. Park raised his crossbow so December could see it. "I'm a pretty decent shot, too!"

"Your intention to shoot the animal may be a bit premature... and misguided," said December.

"HA! Look, Mr. December... I'm not a cruel man by any stretch of the imagination, but let's see how much tolerance YOU have for this kinda foolishness when you get to be my age! A man's gotta get his SLEEP! And the way that thing's carrying on, that's all but impossible. The thing is probably rabid or something, anyway... need ta put it out of it's misery!"

"In which case your attack could only provoke it," said December.

"Provoked or no... he ain't gonna do much more howling with a BOLT through the cranium! You stay here while I take care of this-"

December placed his hand on Dr. Park's shoulder and held him in place.

"Has anyone ever told you that your hands are FREEZING!"

"Yes," said December. "But of more interest is the fact that, since we began our conversation, the howling has ceased."

"Eh? Hmmm..."

It was true. For the past minute or so, the night had been unusually quiet. There was no more howling.

"Hmph," said the Doctor. "Must have heard us coming and ran. Cowardly mutt."

"I do not think so," December replied. He pointed to the corner of the building, where the great wolf was just arriving. The beast peered around the corner and eyed the two humans. It lowered its head and sniffed... then growled deep in its throat. Its predatory eyes shifted from December to Azarius and back again. It took a few tentative steps toward them.
Then it took a few more. Finally it began slowly walking toward them, growling all the while.

"Okay," said Azarius. "So its a BIG mutt. Makes no difference to me..." he raised his crossbow. The wolf paused in its approach. Its lips peeled back away from its sharp canine teeth as it snarled angrily at the doctor. December grabbed the end of the weapon and pushed it back down so that it pointed at the ground once more.

"Allow me," December said.

"What? YOU wanna take a shot? Don't mean to offend you, but it's my crossbow-"

December retrieved the wrapped bundle from his coat pocket.

"Perhaps we should try this."

"What the hell is that?"

"A blend of herbs and other substances known to have a sedative effect on canines."

"No thanks," said Dr. Park. "I'd rather use the crossbow." he raised the weapon once more, and this time the wolf charged. The great beast made a running start and prepared to leap. December threw the pouch. The bundle struck the wolf square in the snout... the bundle ruptured, releasing a cloud of grayish-green dust that enveloped the wolf's head. The effect was instantaneous... the wolf stopped in its tracks and began a violent sneezing fit that incapacitated its entire body for several seconds. The wolf whined, whimpered, and sneezed in an almost comical fashion... then it turned around and ran off, leaving December and Azarius behind.

"Sedative, eh?" said Azarius. "Yeah, he looks real calm now!"

"I believe that cayenne and jalepeno pepper are added to irritate the nasal passages... which allows the other ingredients to be more readily absorbed."

"And those ingredients would be what, exactly?"

"Cannabis Sativa," said December. "And other herbs with which I am unfamiliar. I do not believe the animal will return. By the time the irritation wears off, it will find itself very tired and in need of sleep. It will disturb no one else this night."

Azarius nodded silently, then stroked his chin as if lost in deep thought. December turned and started up the stairs.

"Pretty good stroke of luck, eh?"

"Excuse me?" said December.

"That you just HAPPENED to have that stuff handy."

"Indeed," said December.

"And you know what's even more interesting?"

December raised an eyebrow.

"That you came down here YOURSELF instead of sending your bodyguard. You know, the dark-skinned one with the big... ya know... Don't you find that a bit unusual?"

"Good night, doctor," said December. He continued up the stairs and returned to the inn.

"I sure do," said Azarius. "Very interesting, indeed."

---

"Scott!"

Wylen stroked his beard nervously as he scanned the dark street for signs of the boy. He could have sworn he saw the lad run this way...

"SCOTT!" he shouted.

He listened to the fading echoes of his own voice.... and then to the silence that followed. A few seconds later, there was a yelp of surprise from one of the alleys not far away. A boy burst from the dark space between the carpenter's shop and Therennia's Elegant Boutique. The child was no more than seven. He ran out into the street, saw Wylen, and ran towards him.

"Sheriff! Sheriff!" the child squealed. He jumped up and down in front of Wylen and pointed back toward the alley "There's a LADY in there!"

"Uh-huh," said Sheriff Wylen. "What are YOU doing out here, boy?"

"I got permission, honest! My daddy said I could go to the gardens when it stopped raining!"

"I don't think he meant in the middle of the night, Scott."

"Oh."

"It's a good thing I saw you; it's dangerous out here. Do your parents know you're out, or did you sneak away without telling?"

"uhhh... well..."

Wylen sighed and shook his head. He knew Scott's mother... she was a truly lovely, sweet woman. Or at least she HAD been. Somehow she'd gotten addicted to Dust, and in the span of less than a year the drug had completely transformed the timid schoolteacher into one of the most wanton prostitutes in the city. She spent so much time prowling the streets in search of 'clients' that her family barely saw her any more. Wylen had arrested her six times just the other week. Unfortunately the holding cells were so packed with Dust-induced thieves and rapists that there simply wasn't room to keep a plain old prostitute locked up. Her husband had promised to keep an eye on her, but that job was tough, and the man had to sleep sometime... which left ample opportunity for Scott to run off in the middle of the night.

"Come on, boy," said Sheriff Wylen. "Let's get you back home."

"But what about the lady!?" the boy protested.

"What lady is that?"

"Come see! Come see!"

Scott grabbed the Sheriff's hand, and Wylen let himself be dragged over to the alley. Light from the nearby street lamp didn't penetrate very far into the dark passage, but illuminated enough of the alley for Wylen to see that it wasn't empty. There was a large pile of garbage... scrap wood and rags.. shoved up against one wall. And laying in the center of it was a naked woman. She was curled up on top of the pile, sleeping soundly as if she were in her own bed. Her skin was brown, and her shoulder-length hair was black. She was actually quite attractive, although much too muscular for his tastes. The woman didn't appear to be injured, but she was very, very naked.

"See, I TOLD ya!" said Scott.

Wylen clamped his hand over the boy's wide eyes.

"Hush, boy..." the Sheriff whispered. He backed away, taking the boy with him. "Let's go."

"But what about the lady?"

"Looks like another addict," said Wylen. "Me and the boys will come get her after I take you home."

"But-"

"She could be dangerous, and I don't want you around when she wakes up. Come on-"

Sheriff Wylen dragged the protesting boy down the street, leaving Zade in the alley to finish her drugged sleep.

Before Scott and Wylen had traveled two blocks, Zade opened her eyes and moaned. Her mind was a blank for a few peaceful seconds. The only things she knew was what she was feeling right then... her nose and throat burned, and she had a strange taste in her mouth. And she was hungry.

Then the memories came flooding back in a rush of images, sounds and scents. They were HER memories, but yet they were completely alien... as if some poorly-trained mind-reader had planted them in her brain. The images were blurry and warped, the sounds and scents far too sharp. She remembered the fight with Faction... it ended in fire and heat and anger. Smoke. Strange scents. She remembered wandering the streets... no, not wandering... searching. Tracking her own scent back to familiar ground... back to a familiar place... to the safety of the pack. Only her pack was nowhere to be found... or was it? December. She was looking for him... she remembered calling for him in a voice he no doubt found annoying as hell. But he came. Him and another man. Then there was an explosion of burning dust and other strong scents. After that, everything got to blurry and disjointed to remember.

Zade sat up and examined herself, even though she knew what she'd find. Nothing. Not a mark on her, even after getting soundly thrashed by Faction.

And, of course, she was naked.

There were human scents in the air... someone had been here, but they hadn't ventured any closer than the mouth of the alley.

"Hope they enjoyed the show," Zade mumbled. She got to her feet and stretched her tight muscles. She only had a vague idea of where she was... but she could hear the river.

Zade grabbed a long piece of wood from the pile of scrap, and used it to smash the window of the clothing store on one side of the alley. She snatched the first pieces of wearable cloth she could find... a pair of men's pants and a woman's blouse... both much too small for her. She squeezed into them. Then, barefoot, weaponless, and looking very much like a insane drunken prostitute, she headed toward the waterfront.

---

Not much time later, Zade was at the scene of her battle with Faction. Finding it was easy... she followed her own scent to the general area, and then simply followed the tiny wisps of steam and smoke that remained from Faction's attempt to incinerate her.

Emory Tibbs's shack was completely gone. Everything above the water... which was the vast majority of it... was burnt to ashes that hovered in the air and floated on the water like tiny fairies. The only thing that remained of the bum's body were a few charred bones and an odd smell amidst the smoke.

There was no sign of Faction. There were few traces of scent that lead nowhere, but other than that... nothing. Zade wasn't at all surprised, there weren't too many stealthy assassins that would allow themselves to be betrayed by their own scent. She didn't know HOW he covered his tracks, but he'd done a good job. She would have to find his some other way... and she WOULD find him. This wasn't over by a longshot.

But first there was other business to attend to.

Zade dug through the ruins. There wasn't much to search, so she found her clothes quickly. She'd been mostly underwater when Faction started his torch-job on the shack... she didn't know if even her lycanthropy would have saved her if she hadn't been. Her leather armor was still where she left it. The top was burnt and ripped beyond any use. The pants, boots, and belt were not much better, but were still wearable. She slipped them on, and as she did a small book fell out into the water. Jake Fast's journal. All of the pages were either burnt or soaked, or both. Only a few of the entries were still legible.

"Better than nothing," Zade mused. She stuffed the wet journal into her pants and made her way toward dryer areas of town.

Zade wasn't too interested in going back to the inn. She knew that she should, but she didn't feel like facing December. That, in itself, was disturbing. Normally she wouldn't have cared, but now something had changed. Perhaps it was the fact that he'd seen her in her 'other' form. Or the fact that she'd have to explain the night's events to him in painful detail. Or maybe she just didn't want him to see her the way she was now... tattered, disheveled and so obviously beaten. She knew the truth was a confusing combination of all three, and perhaps a little bit of something else... something that involved emotions that she didn't dare let rise to the surface.

Zade quickly shifted her mind to other things... like Brinks, Faction, the journal... She wandered both mentally and physically, hugging the waterfront as it wound through the heart of the city. Perhaps twenty minutes had gone by when a combination of sounds and scents snapped her mind back into sharp focus. A slow, rhythmic thumping sound vibrated the platform. And with it came the faint, yet unmistakable scent of expensive cologne... cologne she'd smelled only once before, earlier tonight in the presence of Gabrial Brinks. Zade ducked beside a building and hid there for a moment. The thumping sound didn't get any closer, the scent didn't get any stronger. Zade took note of the direction. She snuck around the rear of the building and emerged on the next block. She crept along the street, traveling several blocks before cutting back over to the waterfront.

She could see them now. Not very far away was a series of long piers jutting out into the river. Gabrial stood at the end of one of them, and his huge bodyguard Thorne paced back and forth behind him. Thorne still wore the golden armor that completely encased him from head to toe. It looked more like a piece of artwork than a suit of actual platemail.

They appeared to be waiting for something. Gabrial looked annoyed, and Thorne's impatience was obvious from his heavy, continuous pacing. Gabrial had a bundle under his arm... a small object wrapped in cloth. There was a small sack of something resting on the pier beside him. Gold, perhaps?

"Hmmm..." Zade moved to the rear of another building and climbed up to the roof. Crouching down low, she snuck to the front and lay down flat while peering over the edge... a bird's eye view of whatever was going on. From her vantage point she could see a boat approaching from the south. It was a small fishing boat, completely ordinary accept for the fact that it was moving against the river's rather strong current. Even THAT wasn't all that unusual... some of the richer traders outfitted their boats with magic that allowed them to travel in both directions up and down main waterways. This was the first time Zade had seen such an enchantment on such a small vessel, however. Fishing certainly didn't provide enough revenue to afford such magic... the people on this boat were obviously up to something else.

Gabrial saw the boat as well.

"There they are," he said. He turned to Thorne. "Stop that infernal pacing; you're shaking the pier."

Thorne stood beside Gabrial and watched the boat pull up to the pier and dock. A single man emerged. He was certainly not a fisherman. He wore moderately expensive clothes and had more jewelry around his neck and wrists than most women. But he was not effeminate by any stretch of the imagination. He was tall, with a powerful build. He had a bushy mustache, and a large tattoo on the side of his face. He wore a rapier on one hip and a saber on the other. A single gold loop hung from his earlobe.

This man was obviously a pirate.

Three other men came out a few second's later. They were dressed less lavishly, and were armed with sabres and longswords. Two of them were carrying a large chest. It was heavy... their strong arms bulged with the strain of holding it.

The first man... the leader... greeted Gabrial and nodded at Thorne.

"Sargasco," said Gabrial. "I trust that chest contains my overdue merchandise."

"Aye," replied the pirate leader. His voice was low and rough... Zade figured that all pirates must go to the same school to learn to talk that way. "We got yer Dust, here... But do ye have our gold?"

Gabrial kicked the bundle beside him. It made a rattling, clinking sound.

"Blank gold discs," said Gabrial. "Of various sizes. You may imprint them with whatever you want... turn them into the proper currency of whatever kingdom you desire. Or put your OWN face on them if you wish."

"Now why would I want to do a fool thing like that?"

Gabrial shrugged and smiled as the other pirates sat the chest down on the bow of the ship.

"The gold," said Sargasco. "Is it twenty pounds standard weight, like we agreed?"

"The agreement was for ten," said Gabrial.

"The OLD agreement was for ten. You got my message."

"Your message said you wanted to renegotiate."

"Renegotiate for TWENTY pounds o' gold for delivery of Two-Fifty pounds of... the stuff."

Gabrial rested his foot on the sack of gold and placed one hand defiantly on his hip.

"A request to renegotiate does NOT imply that a new agreement has been reached. You wanted to talk about a new deal.. I'm here. Talk."

Sargasco scowled. Gabrial smiled. Thorne stood nearby and stared at the boat... specifically, at the chest sitting on the bow. It was as if he were mesmerized by it.

"Twenty pounds," Sargasco said after an uncomfortable pause.

"No," said Gabrial.

"Twenty pounds or we take this stuff right back where we got it."

"And do what with it?" said Gabrial.

"This stuff is worth more than ten times what you're paying us for it. The way I see it... we can sell it ourselves and make ten times the profit."

"True," said Gabrial. "IF you can sell it."

"We can."

"Oh? So you've already set up a loyal distribution network to move the product, have you? You've already bribed the law enforcement officials in every major city from here to...well... anywhere? You have ALREADY hired mercenaries to watch your back and protect your property from every thief and cut-throat that wants a piece of the profit? You have ALREADY paid the necessary tributes to the Warlord K'Sano AND the Queen of Swords so that you can pass their territories without being hunted down and slaughtered like rabid dogs? You've already done ALL these things? Well... I sure HOPE you have, because if you haven't you won't sell one ounce of Dust anywhere in this hemisphere without something very, very, VERY bad happening to you. You'd be LUCKY if you ended up leaning over a chopping block or swinging from the gallows. VERY lucky."

Sargasco looked at Gabrial with a continuation of his stern, unhappy expression.

"Twenty gold or the Dust stays where it is," he said

"Very well," said Gabrial. "Keep it. It's your funeral... although I doubt they'll find enough to bury. Especially if the Warlord catches you crossing his property without permission."

"We're not scared of him, and we ain't scared of YOU either."

"Then you are a fool," said Gabrial. "A fool of the highest caliber... a KING among fools! Oh, my, how the bards must sing in PRAISE and WORSHIP of your utter lack of intelligence!"

Sargasco gripped his sabre but did not draw it. Gabrial's grin didn't falter in the slightest.

"Now," said Gabrial. "The negotiations have ended. You will accept ten pounds of gold in exchange for that chest. If this arrangement displeases you, then you are perfectly free to NEVER do business with me again after tonight."

"OR," said Sargasco. "You can pay us FIFTEEN pounds in exchange for the Dust, and then we never hear from each other again."

"That's not acceptable," said Gabrial.

"Ya got the money; I KNOW ya do. If you don't have it with ya, we'll wait right here while you go get it."

"I will not be leaving this pier without my product."

"It's not yours until you pay for it."

"I already HAVE paid for it. The suppliers have their gold... the product belongs to me."

"Not until we get fifteen standard pounds of gold. Right now."

"No," said Gabrial.

"Then we'll be going our separate ways," said Sargasco. "Nice doin' business with ya, Mr. Brinks."

The pirate started to step back onto his boat.

"I don't think so," said Gabrial.

Sargasco paused, then turned towards Brinks.

"Ya got something to say?"

"Yes. Thorne, these pirates are standing between me and my product. Please remove them."

Thorne made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a growl. He marched toward the boat.

"Your little tin-man had better back off!" said Sargasco. "Before he gets BOTH of ya hurt!"

"I think not." Gabrial replied.

"I warned ya!" Sargasco reached for his belt. He didn't draw his rapier or his sabre, but a small wooden wand tucked under his shirt. He pointed it at Thorne, and three streams of purple light burst from tip. Each stream circled Thorne's massive body around the chest. They drew tight, pinning the bodyguard's arms to his side, and rendering him immobile. He tried to pull free... the magic bands of light pulsed brightly but held him just as tight as before.

"I came PREPARED for your treachery!" Sargasco spat. "Our deal is null and void. Now I'll be taking your gold AND your Dust! And your LIFE if ye try to stop me!" The pirate tucked his wand away, drew his sabre and advanced menacingly on Gabrial, who calmly stood his ground. Gabrial pulled the cover off of the object he'd been holding under his arm... revealing the large gem he'd stolen from Jake Fast. He thrust the gem in front of him-

"I wish these pirates to be transformed into pillars of salt!" he commanded.

Nothing happened.

"...what?" Gabrial stared incredulously at the gem. One of the other pirates laughed.

"Gem! I wish these pirates to-"

"Shut up."

Sargasco tapped Gabrial's throat lightly with the tip of his sabre.

"Nice lookin' gem ya got there... I'll be takin' IT, too. Now bend down, pick up that gold, and hand it to me. Nice and slow."

Gabrial did as he was told. He took a step back, grabbed the bag of gold coins and held them out. When Sargasco reached for them, Brinks took three sudden steps back.

"Thorne! These men have my DUST! WHAT are you doing to do about it!"

"...Dust..." Thorne growled.

"Yes! DUST! They're going to get away with it!"

"rrrrRRRRRMMMM!!!"

The huge man flexed his powerful muscles again. The magic bands pulsed brighter... and brighter... and suddenly snapped with sound like miniature lightning-strikes. Moving with powerful steps that shook the entire pier, Thorne shot past Gabrial and grabbed Sargasco's arm just as the pirate was swinging his sabre at Brink's head. He thrust one metal-clad hand into Sargasco's chest while yanking the pirate's arm forward with the other... Sargasco's arm came off at the shoulder. Thorne had snapped it off with all the ease of a boy pulling wings off of an insect.

"AAEEEEIII!!!" Sargasco stumbled back. With his remaining hand, he reached for another wand tucked into his belt. He aimed it at Thorne, and a thick blast of orange fire erupted from the tip. The flames bathed Thorne as he advanced on the retreating pirate. "I'll FRY YOU ALIVE inside that armor!" Sargasco shouted. He was backing away towards his boat. The other pirates were already rushing forward to help him. Two grabbed Sargasco and pulled him aboard, while another drew a longsword and leapt onto the pier.

Thorne waded through the flames as if they weren't even there. When the fire died a second later, the Brink's bodyguard was completely unharmed... Sargasco may as well have been tossing feathers at Thorne.

The armed pirate rushed forward, hoping to delay Thorne's advance long enough for the others to secure Sargasco and untie the boat. After denting his sword on Throne's armored chest, the man realized the gravity of his mistake. Thorne grabbed the man's head in the palm of his hand and squeezed.

KRUUCKT!

The pirate's skull exploded like a water-balloon, spraying blood and gray matter in every direction. His body fell back into the water.

"AAAA! AAAAAA!!!" Sargasco howled. As the other's undid the boat's moorings, he pointed his flame-rod at Thorne again. Again, Thorne passed through the flames unharmed. The pirate continued the useless assault until the wand's magic expired. The others tried to shove the boat away from the pier... but it was too late.

Thorne grabbed the side of the boat and lifted it out of the water like a toy, then slammed it down onto the pier. It was a testament to both the boat's and the pier's construction that neither of them shattered from the impact.

The three pirates immediately jumped ship and tried to run. Two of them didn't get very far. Thorne tripped Sargasco as he passed. The pirate leader hit the pier at Thorne's feet. Thorne lifted one foot and brought it down on Sargasco's left leg-

SNAP!

"ARRRRRRRRRRRGH!"

Then he broke the other leg.

CRACK!

"AAAAGODS HELP ME!!"

One of Sargasco's men turned around and came back in a futile attempt to help the doomed pirate.

Big mistake.

Thorne lunged forward and caught the pirate by the arm. He lifted the man into the air, grabbed his frantically kicking legs with his other hand, and turned him upside down. Thorne swung the screaming pirate like a club... bringing him down hard onto Sarcasgo's struggling body. Zade could hear the men's bones breaking from the impact. He did it again... harder. And harder. And then even HARDER. He kept doing it... hitting one man with the other until they were both bloody pulps.

Zade had never seen such a display of raw brutality in her life. Even after the men were obviously dead, Thorne kept bashing them until their bodies literally flew apart. All Thorne had left in his hand was a severed leg. He snapped that leg into two pieces and tossed them both into the water.

The third and final pirate had jumped into the river and was swimming for his life. Gabrial shouted after him.

"SWIM AS FAST AS YOU CAN! YOU WON'T ESCAPE THIS CITY ALIVE!"

The pirate kept swimming, and was soon lost in the darkness.

"I'll get Faction on him," said Gabrial. "He'll be dead by dawn."

Thorne was ignoring him. Gabrial's bodyguard had climbed into the boat and made his way toward the chest full of Dust. He yanked it open... pieces of the heavy lock bounced off of his armored chest and slid across the bow of the boat.

Inside were several dozen rectangular paper bundles, each sealed with wax and tied with twine. Thorne reached for one-

"Ah-ah-ah!" said Gabrial. "Kindly remove your hands from my product."

Thorne didn't move.

"NOW, you big lummox!"

Thorne stood up and backed away. It was obvious that this was done with great reluctance. As he climbed back down to the pier, Gabrial Brinks studied his apparently malfunctioning gem.

"This damned thing... don't tell me I wasted my one wish on the rain! No, that just doesn't make sense; who would make a gem that only granted ONE wish? There must be some kind of limitations I'm unaware of... one wish per day perhaps?" He held the gem up to his face, allowing both himself and Zade to get a good long look at it.

"What now?" said Thorne.

"There's a boat sitting on this pier," said Gabrial. He wrapped up the gem and tucked it under his arm. "Do boats NORMALLY belong on top of piers?"

"No."

"Then please place it BACK into the water before Sheriff Wylen happens along and wonders why we're standing next to a it amidst a lake of blood and body parts."

Thorne grabbed the fishing boat, lifted it into the air, and calmly dropped it back into the river.

"Come on," said Gabrial. He got aboard the boat and motioned for Thorne to follow. "We'll sail this boat back to my private dock and dispose of the vessel there."

Thorne joined him. Brinks stepped into the boat's bridge, and a few seconds later the vessel began to slowly make its way upstream. The darkness claimed it after a few minutes.

Zade as she crept from her hiding place and, finally having had enough for one night, started back to the inn.

[To Be Continued]