coiling in restless abandon in his hollowed-out stomach. 'If you give me the jewel,' he suggested, 'I might let you live.' Haarn shook his head. He stepped forward and threw his scimitar. The blade whipped end over end, flying straight at Borran Kiosk. The mohrg flicked out a hand and knocked the scimitar aside. The weapon clanged against the cobblestones. Haarn steadied himself with his free hand on the stone wall behind him. 'I don't suppose you'd give me the jewel if I told you I'd spare the life of the woman?' Borran Kiosk said. Druz wanted to tell Haarn not to agree. The mohrg was lying; he had to be. She didn't dare hope that he would let her go. The single possibility that remained was that Ettrian would arrive with help in time to save them, but the street remained empty at both ends and the spider web blocked the nearest alley. 'No,' Haarn said in a flat voice. Druz chose not to hold the answer against the druid. She might have answered the same way had their positions been reversed. Borran Kiosk wanted the jewel, and maybe Haarn could destroy it. Maybe that was why the mohrg was hesitating. 'Then you can die,' Borran Kiosk said, gesturing and speaking words Druz didn't understand. The mohrg opened his hand and a fireball formed there. He threw it at the druid and it swelled, growing larger and larger as it flew. It was almost as big as Haarn when it reached him. Druz couldn't believe the druid made no move to flee. Maybe the carrion stench had made him sick as well, too sick to move with any real speed-or to move at all. It looked like the fireball drove him back against the stone wall. It exploded, detonating in a sulfurous haze that threw heated air over Druz. At least the sudden blast of hot wind cleared the carrion stench from the street for a moment. When the smoke dissipated, there was nothing left of Haarn Brightoak. He was gone. Only the red jewel, gleaming and unmarked on the cobblestones in front of the wall, remained. Druz stared at the ground where Haarn had been, not believing he was gone. She had seen him fight slavers and Stonefur, zombies and skeletons, and he'd survived. How could he not survive this? She felt cold and empty inside, and it wasn't just from the sickness that still twisted through her.
Excitement flared through Borran Kiosk as he crossed the short distance to the fifth and final piece of Taraketh's Hive. He'd already assembled the other four jewels, but the magical device wouldn't work unless all of them were together. He knelt and picked the jewel up then fitted it into place with the other four. He started the incantation, watching as the jewels glowed in an alternating pattern and dimmed as Taraketh's Hive fed on its five pieces. He glanced up at the woman who remained in Allis's spidery grasp and said, 'You're going to live, by the way.' She looked like she didn't believe him, and he found that amusing. 'I want someone to inform the Emerald Enclave that their doom is coming.' She swore an oath that surprised him. 'It isn't often that I pass up the chance to slay a woman,' he said, 'especially one as pretty as yourself, but I want the Emerald Enclave to know they and all of the Vilhon Reach are going to lose more than this city. I am going to take the life from this place, and-Malar willing-move on from here.' 'They stopped you last time, Borran Kiosk,' the woman said, 'and they'll stop you this time. This time they'll destroy you. There will be no mercy from Eldath or any other.' Borran Kiosk ignored her. Instead, he watched the jeweled pieces cycle faster, blazing with color. 'With this device, Taraketh imported bees, which are the most important creature in the ecology of any land. Without bees, nothing gets pollinated. Without pollination, nothing grows. Without growth, everything dies.' His purple tongue flicked out toward her face to make sure he had her undivided attention. The woman turned away in fear and disgust. Appreciating both emotions, the mohrg pulled his tongue back and continued. 'I learned about my enemies. I found their weakness. If I found a way to destroy all the bees in these lands, the lands would die, and the people living here would be forced to move or die as well. So I tracked down Taraketh's Hive, and I found out how to call forth vangdumonders.' Her lack of comprehension showed on her face. 'Vangdumonders are parasitic creatures from another plane,' Borran Kiosk said. 'They prey on bees and other pollinators, but they do not spread pollen themselves. Once I introduce the vangdumonders into this ecology, they will kill the bees and replace them, but they won't be taking care of the pollination. Everything-everything-will be unable to reproduce. There will be no fruit, no vegetables. In short order, no plant life at all.' 'That can't happen,' the woman argued, struggling against Allis's spider's legs. 'It can,' Borran Kiosk crowed in triumph, 'and it will. You get to be the first to watch as I bring the vangdumonders into this world. Be sure to tell those damned druids what you see here.' The woman made another effort to free herself, but it was useless against Allis's greater strength. Borran Kiosk returned his attention to the incantation, mouthing the words he'd learned all those years before. The lights flaring inside the jewel sped faster and faster, but instead of producing the first of the vangdumonders, they continued to gather speed. A humming noise flared to life, driving pain deep into Borran Kiosk's bones. Something was wrong. He could feel it. The connections that were supposed to be made weren't being made. It came to him in a rush. The damned druid had used magic to seal the fifth piece of the jewel. Borran Kiosk cursed. The druid's spell would have in no way withstood the powers he could bring to bear. Desperate, the mohrg tried to put a halt to the process his incantation had started, but it was too late. Once initiated, the spell had to run its course, and it would fail. It wouldThe explosion knocked Borran Kiosk from his feet, driving him backward and blowing him end over end. His senses reeled, and he almost blacked out. Staggered, he forced himself up, peering through the smoky haze at the five pieces of Taraketh's Hive. The five jewels lay scattered across the cobblestone street, all of them inert and dark. He couldn't reach them with his mind. A tingle made its way up his arm. He glanced down and saw that Malar's Glove lay in tiny coral pieces across the street from where he and the five jewels lay. The glove had somehow protected him from the full power of the spell's misfire. Joy washed through Borran Kiosk, then he saw the druid-the damned druid that he thought he'd already killed-step from the soot-blasted wall where the fireball had exploded.
Haarn ended the spell that had kept him safe from harm inside the solid stone wall and went into motion at once, flicking a pair of throwing knives at the giant spider's head. The blades whirled through the air and embedded in the werespider, one of them sinking through an opal eye. The spider screamed in a woman's voice and drew back. Druz took advantage of the spider's painful distraction and freed herself. Before the werespider could react, Druz hacked off two of the legs on her left side, causing it to fall. While the spider scuttled, trying to get back to its remaining feet, Druz stepped in and hacked off its head. Haarn was in motion, diving for the scimitar and dodging Borran Kiosk's tongue as the spider's head bounced across the cobblestones and became a woman's head. The head wore a shocked expression. As fast as he'd moved, even after healing himself while he was inside the stone wall, Haarn couldn't completely avoid Borran Kiosk's barbed tongue. It ripped along his left shoulder, tearing and searing into the flesh. The druid came up in a roll, putting the pain out of his mind, focusing on the mohrg. Borran Kiosk succeeded in pushing himself to his feet, and the purple tongue darted out like a rapier, striking over and over again. Haarn was hard-pressed to keep the tongue from piercing his throat or stabbing into his face. The blows he blocked brought fiery pain to his arms as he struggled to compensate against the undead thing's incredible strength. He had to keep the fight going; he couldn't allow Borran Kiosk one moment's respite for the mohrg to use his magic. Every time he swung his scimitar to block one of the mohrg's attacks, Haarn took a step forward, chasing his opponent back against the building on the other side of the street. The druid's advance was relentless, his swordplay the best it had ever been. He fought with memory of all those who had been ripped from their mortal coils that night, for those who had stood against Borran Kiosk all those years before, and for the girl who had died only moments before. And he fought for the preservation of all that Silvanus had entrusted him with. If Borran Kiosk escaped, Haarn had no doubt the mohrg would take Taraketh's Hive and summon the vangdumonders. Borran Kiosk had been right about that: if the bees died in a place, so did that place. A creature that any civilized person would take for granted was the basic ingredient of the chain of life Silvanus had taught his followers to so revere. 'Stand away, boy,' Borran Kiosk said, even though his tongue never once stopped flicking. The barbed end tore into Haarn's left thigh. 'I've no wish to fight you. You can live.' 'And you can die,' Haarn growled, swinging the scimitar again. His arms felt like lead and his breath came hard, burning the back of his throat and deep into his lungs. Pressing his advantage, Haarn took two quick steps forward, slamming blow after blow at the mohrg, almost reaching him. Druz remained back, unable to get any closer. Haarn had to move so fast and so broadly there was no room for her to join the battle. Blood dripped from Haarn's wounded shoulder, running down the length of his arm in crimson threads that made their way down to his hands and dripped on the cobblestones. His foot hit a patch of his own blood and he slipped. It wasn't much of a slip, but it was enough for Borran Kiosk to try to seize the advantage. Quick as a darting hummingbird, lethal as a striking viper, the mohrg's tongue leaped for Haarn's face. The druid knew he had no defense. He couldn't get the scimitar up at an angle to deflect the tongue, and he couldn't dodge, and sticking an arm in front of his face would only add one more layer of flesh and bone for the tongue to go
