face. Lifting the lantern, Tohl saw that Borran Kiosk's obscene tongue had ripped through Bowdiek's lower back so hard that it had penetrated the tomb's stone wall. Bowdiek couldn't move-he was pinned. Pain flared through Bowdiek's eyes, then they turned up until only the whites showed. Tohl felt Bowdiek's corpse shiver as Borran Kiosk's tongue tensed and shifted. Glancing over his shoulder, Tohl spotted the mohrg tearing free of the insect- infested room, pulled by his tongue, which was still anchored to the wall, and to Bowdiek. Borran Kiosk gibbered and raked insects from his eye hollows. Other insects crusted his mouth and the remains of his nose. 'Still here, priest?' Borran Kiosk mocked as he drew himself toward Bowdiek's twitching corpse. 'Your friend is still hanging around.' The mohrg stood only a few feet away. He yanked his head back and his tongue popped free of both the wall and the corpse then snapped back into his blood-drenched jaws. Bowdiek dropped to the floor. Tohl turned and ran. He fled through the hallways, listening to the bony slap of Borran Kiosk's skeletal feet against the stone floor. The doorway to the graveyard appeared ahead. Tohl pushed off the last passageway wall with his free hand, still carrying the bobbing lantern with his other, struggling to keep his bearings even though the wick's flame flickered. In a dozen more strides, he was through the final door and out into the graveyard. Eldath's blessing, but he was old. Tohl knew that, but the wheezing breaths that seared like hot irons through his lungs branded that truth into him. His knees felt like they were coming apart, but he kept them moving. Before he could stop himself, he glanced over his shoulder. The mohrg ran with surprising speed, and the cloud of insects pursued him, though they were beginning to thin. The spell should have lasted longer, but it was fading. Tohl wondered if the magical nature of the mohrg had altered the spell in some way. Tohl wished he was in another dream, but just as he had known he was dreaming before, he knew he wasn't now. He tripped. Something caught his foot and he went sprawling. The wet ground coated him and he smacked up against a leaning headstone whose letters had long since worn away. The splat of bony feet cleaving the graveyard mud drew Tohl's attention, sounding almost as fast and as loud as his heart hammering in his chest. He clawed his way to his knees and looked back the way he'd come. Borran Kiosk ran through the rain showing no sign of exertion. The hideous creature moved with the fluid grace of a great cat. Fear deluged Tohl in one final wave. Galvanized into action, he reared back and threw the lantern as hard as he could. The lantern flipped end over end then smashed against the mohrg. The glass fuel reservoir shattered against the undead creature's chest. Oil ran over the bared bone and remnants of flesh. Despite the downpour, the fluid ran over Borran Kiosk's body and the fiery wick stuck to his chest. The oil caught fire and blue and yellow flames raced over the mohrg. Tohl watched in horror as Borran Kiosk never broke stride. The horrid, fleshless face and the death's-head grin was the last thing he saw. He had a brief impression of the grinning jaws splitting open and the purple tongue exploding outward, then it felt like a dwarven warhammer slammed into his head, and he was dead before he could draw a last breath.
'Merciful Tymora,' Druz Talimsir called as she looked at Haarn lying naked and unconscious in the mud, 'give me the strength to endure.' The newborn wolf pups squirmed in the blanket. Their mewling cries reached her ears and sparked a tenderness that confused her and made her angry. Lightning sizzled across the sky, followed almost at once by the hollow boom of thunder that rolled across the mountaintop. The sound made Druz realize again how far she was from anything familiar, and she had to do something about the unconscious man lying in the mud. The wolves still lounging in the tree line continued watching her. Druz couldn't help but wonder how long it would take before they rushed her. Even armed and as skilled as she was, she knew she wouldn't last long before they overcame her. Her only chance was to run or climb a tree before they dragged her down, but she knew she couldn't leave the druid unguarded. The wolves would kill him for executing their leader, and they probably had no love for Druz, who had killed the pregnant bitch. Beneath her breath, she damned the druid. He had to have known he wasn't going to be strong enough to climb down the mountain. Instead of healing a motherless wolf pup, he should have healed himself. She started to put the blanket-wrapped wolf pups aside. Plaintive yips sounded from the struggling newborns. She stopped and pulled the blanket back in close to her, feeling the warmth of the pups and the way they moved against her. Druz couldn't abandon them. If she had known for sure that the wolf pack would take care of them she might have left them there, but she didn't know that. All she knew was that Haarn had risked his life to save them. She felt trapped as she eyed the restless wolves and cuddled the blanket to her. Glancing around the mountain-top, she tried to find some place she could use as shelter, thinking she could put the wolf pups there and return for the druid. The bear yawned as it towered above her. Druz feared the bear might grow bored and wander away, leaving them defenseless against the wolves. Reaching to her side, she took hold of her sword hilt. The bear swayed for a moment then dropped to all fours. The bear nudged the unconscious druid with his muzzle. Haarn didn't respond. Growing more restless, fur dripping from the downpour, the bear pushed at Haarn with a paw. Druz watched with growing concern. The bear's shiny black claws could slice a man to ribbons. Moving with gentle care, the bear shoved one of his front legs under the unconscious druid and lifted him with no apparent effort. The bear stood to his full height again, cradling the man as if he were a babe. When he had his burden secure, the bear gazed at Druz, gave a low growl, and started walking away. Not wanting to be left alone with the waiting wolves, Druz got to her feet, surprised at how her muscles ached from the climb up the mountain. She gathered Haarn's gear, carried the wolf pups in the blanket in one hand and Haarn's gear in the other, and stepped through the mud after the bear. Halfway down the mountain, battling with treacherous footing, Druz followed the bear as it turned to the right of the narrow game trail. She didn't see the cave beside the trail until the bear hunkered down and walked through it. Hesitant, Druz stood outside for a moment. The bear growled to her from inside, and the resulting short-lived echo around the beast's voice let her know how small the cave was. Despite her best efforts, the blanket containing the wolf pups had grown wetter and the newborn litter was in danger of getting soaked. Holding onto the blanket of pups and Haarn's gear, she strode into the cave. Lightning flashed outside, giving Druz a momentary glimpse of the bear and the druid against the back wall of the cave. The animal sat down next to the man, pressing his bulk against Haarn to share his warmth. The bear turned his broad head and ministered to Haarn's wounds with his tongue. Druz dropped Haarn's gear and slid her own sword free of its sheath as another streak of lightning ripped through the sky and revealed the wolf pack outside the cave. They waited in the tree line opposite the game trail. After placing the blanket of wolf pups on the uneven cave floor, Druz shrugged out of her backpack and sat it on the floor as well. Keeping an eye on the cave mouth, working in the darkness of the cave, she rummaged through her pack until she found her flint and tinder. She opened the metal case, drew out her flint and steel, and a small amount of tinder. She piled the tinder on a small cloth from the metal case, then struck sparks and got the tinder going. A thin trail of smoke rose from the pile of tinder. She took a beeswax candle from her pack and lit it. Shielding the fragile flame with her hand, Druz studied the cave. The fetid smell of animals clung to the stone surfaces. Piles of animal spoor, old and new, lay scattered around the cave, but there were signs that men had sheltered there as well. A ring of stones occupied a section of the floor in front of the bear. In the back, out of the sweeping winds that carried part of the rain into the cave, someone had left a small pile of dry wood. Druz soon had a small fire burning in the ring of stones. Taking bandages and mendicants from her pack, she approached Haarn with caution. The bear rumbled and watched her through winking eyes as she began to tend to the druid's wounds. When she finished, she returned to the fire. She sat near the flames, letting the welcome heat bask into her. Painful twinges poked at her body as she pulled her knees up and rested her chin on her knees. Her eyes burned from the smoke, the storm, and fatigue. Hunger pangs made her stomach feel hollow. She kept her sword at her side and took the time to re-string her bow. It was doubtful that the wolves or any other creature would try to gain entrance into the cave with the fire and the bear, but she wanted to be prepared. After a time, despite the anxiety that filled her, Druz's eyelids grew heavy. With the warmth from the fire filling the cave, she retreated to a wall and placed her back against it, resting her sword across her thighs and her bow near to hand. Just as her eyes were about to close again, a reflection from the campfire flashed out in the woods. Awake at once, Druz gripped her long sword and rose to her feet. Tired as she was, she made the mistake of stepping between the fire and the movement. Shifting to one side, heart pounding faster even though her head didn't feel very clear, she gazed at the woods opposite the cave. The wolves had noticed the movement as well. The pack closed in on it with menacing growls. Druz thought at first that it was a traveler, stranded by the storm, who knew about the cave. The possibility of sharing the cave with a stranger wasn't welcome, but she wasn't going to leave someone to the mercy of the wolves. She started to return for her bow, then noticed that the pack had clustered around a section of ground beneath an aging sycamore tree. Rainwater washing down from the mountain had eroded the earth from the sycamore's roots, baring the woody knees. Something glittered on the ground, reflecting more light than even the wolves' eyes. Judging from the pure ruby glint that captured the gleam from the campfire, Druz guessed that it
