Sea of Death

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

As the broodswarm spiders launched themselves at Makala and Haaken, their mother dropped Skarm. The barghest-partially covered in webbing and writhing in pain-hit the floor of the crypt with a sharp crack of snapping bone. The tomb spider released her grip on the ceiling, flipped over as she descended, landed on her legs, and scuttled toward Makala and Haaken.

Tomb spiders reproduced by implanting their eggs in humanoid corpses, which in turn reanimated as undead creatures called web mummies. Once the eggs inside them hatched, the mummies served as both incubator and food source for the spider's young. As they grew within their undead host, the spiderlings began to devour those weaker than themselves until eventually only the strongest individual survived to emerge from the mummy as an adult. But if the immature spiders were released prematurely, they formed a broodswarm, attacking any living humanoids in the vicinity. In turn, the parent spider would seek to replace a ruined web mummy, for the immature spiderlings would never live to reach adulthood once released from their host.

Nathifa knew the tomb spider wasn't trying to save her children, for she could not do so. She was instead seeking hosts in which to implant more eggs. The lich didn't know whether Makala or Haaken could serve as effective hosts, since one was undead and the other a lycanthrope, and she didn't care. All that mattered was that they provided a distraction to occupy the tomb spider so the sorceress could work. Nathifa could have easily used her magic to slay the tomb spider. A simple fire spell would have sufficed, given the flammable webbing that filled the crypt chamber. But she refused to spare even the smallest fraction of her power to aid her servants. She needed every scrap of her magic to accomplish the task before her, especially now that she would be forced to drain the magic from Paganus's hoard as fast as she could. Maintaining control of the energy transference into the Amahau would take a greater effort than she had originally planned, but there was no hope for it. Bastiaan and his followers would be here soon: she could sense it. Swiftness was paramount now.

Besides, Nathifa thought, if the tomb spider managed to destroy Makala, the creature would be doing her a favor.

Makala and Haaken were fighting to shake off the crimson spiderlings they had released, when the two web mummies-even though one was headless-lurched forward and grabbed hold of them. The tomb spider raced toward them, intending to inject the intruders with her venom. Nathifa didn't bother to watch anymore. Whatever the outcome of her servants' battle with the giant spider, she would claim the power of Paganus's hoard in the name of Vol.

Before she could begin, she needed to do one last thing. She reached up, pressed her fingers against her left eye, and gouged it from the socket. The lich felt no pain, but even if the action had caused her excruciating agony, she would have gladly endured it for her Queen. She spoke a series of blasphemous words and tossed her eye into the air. The detached orb swelled to the size of a melon and hovered above its owner's head, facing the crypt's entrance. In case her servants failed to defeat the tomb spider, Nathifa wanted to make certain that someone was guarding her back, and there was no one she trusted more than herself.

She plunged her remaining hand inside her chest and withdrew the dragonwand from her inner darkness. She held the mystical artifact out before her, the golden dragonhead with crystalline teeth and ruby eyes that was the Amahau affixed on the end. She concentrated on activating the Gatherer, and the dragonhead's ruby eyes glimmered as the device began to do what it was designed for: absorb magic power. The undead sorceress shifted her perceptions until she could see multicolored lines of mystic force curl upward from the hundreds of objects Paganus had stolen over the centuries. The energy-tendrils began snaking toward the Amahau, and despite her vow to maintain strict control as the absorption proceeded, Nathifa couldn't help laughing.

The companions followed the direction of the barghest's scream and discovered a tunnel at the far end of the dragon's cavern. They hurried down it and soon came to a crudely excavated opening leading to a chamber of some sort, and they paused at the entrance.

Diran took the situation in at a glance: ancient crypt filled with webbing, tomb spider, broodswarm younglings, a pair of web mummies (one without a head), a wereshark-where had it come from? — Makala (his heart lurched at the sight of her), the barghest lying on the floor half-covered in webbing, and the lich Nathifa, holding Tresslar's dragonwand out before her, a huge crimson eye floating over the sorceress's head as she worked some manner of foul spell. Makala and the wereshark were held in the grip of the web mummies, broodswarm spiders crawling all over them, the younglings' mother rushing in to join her children's attack.

Diran had no idea what the floating eye hovering over Nathifa could do, and he really didn't want to find out. He hurled a dagger at the levitating orb, hoping to spear the eyeball the same way he'd practiced throwing knives at pieces of fruit when he was a boy. But as the dagger flew toward the crimson eye, a beam of necromantic energy lanced forth from the pupil, deflecting the blade. The dagger's new trajectory sent it hurtling toward the tomb spider, and the blade pierced the giant arachnid's abdomen.

The spider screeched and whirled about, as if to shoot an accusing glare at whoever had dealt it such an insulting wound. The monster's inhuman black eyes fixed on the companions and then, though the creature gave no obvious command, a dozen more web-covered figures sat up inside the black-stone sepulchers, their skin writhing from the motion of all the spiderlings growing inside them.

"Solus, Tresslar, Leontis, and I will handle Nathifa," Diran said. "Ghaji, you take the others and deal with the web mummies. But be careful: the spiderlings inside them are just as venomous as their parent."

"Got it. Good luck, Diran." Ghaji turned to the others. "You heard him. Let's go!" The half-orc warrior dashed forward, axe raised and ready for battle, Yvka, Asenka, Hinto, and Onu following close on his heels.

Diran had momentarily forgotten about the changeling. Onu's combat skills were rudimentary at best, and Diran feared for the man's life. But there was nothing the priest could do to help him now. He would have to trust that Ghaji and the others would do what they could to protect Onu.

"The lich is using the Amahau to drain the energy from the magic artifacts in this crypt!" Tresslar said. "Once she has that much power at her command, we won't be able to stop her!"

"And what of that floating eye?" Leontis asked.

"A guardian of some sort," Tresslar said.

The lich is getting desperate, Diran thought, else she wouldn't be sacrificing pieces of her body like this.

"We'll never get close to the lich unless we do something about that eye," Leontis said. His voice was pitched low, the words more growled than spoken. Diran knew his friend was losing his battle against the beast that shared his soul.

Ghaji and the others were battling the web mummies, but since the warriors were restraining themselves to avoid releasing any more broodswarms, they were at a decided disadvantage. The tomb spider had turned her attention back to Makala and the wereshark, and the two monsters ignored the crimson spiderlings crawling over their bodies as they fought the giant arachnid. Nathifa remained motionless as she continued to draw magic power into the dragonwand. If Tresslar was right about what Nathifa was doing, and Diran had no reason to doubt the artificer, then the sorceress was growing more powerful by the moment. They had to stop the lich. Now.

The priest turned to Solus. "I have an idea. I just hope you have the energy to help me make it a reality."

Ghaji had fought undead of all sorts during his travels with Diran, but he'd never faced tomb mummies before. The things were slow-moving and clumsy like most zombies, and they attacked without any sort of strategy or concentrated group effort. Their strength wasn't out of the ordinary. In fact, they seemed somewhat weaker than most undead. But these mummies possessed two very important differences: the webbing that covered them was incredibly sticky, and their body cavities were filled with deadly crimson spiderlings. So the trick was to fight the damned things while simultaneously avoiding touching them or causing a wound that would release the spiderlings they hosted.

Far easier said than done.

If Ghaji's elemental axe had still functioned, its flames would have made short work of the mummies, as well as the spiderlings they hosted, but the axe was just a weapon of steel now, and there was no point in wishing otherwise. Various objects were scattered across the floor of the ancient crypt, making it awkward to maneuver, but the clutter also hindered the web mummies, so overall it proved an advantage for the faster, more agile living warriors. Dust covered the crypt floor, and Ghaji ordered Hinto and Onu to scoop up handfuls and throw them onto the oncoming mummies. Ghaji hoped that the dust would adhere to the mummies' webbing and nullify its stickiness, making it possible to touch the creatures without becoming bound to them.

Ghaji knelt and rubbed his axe head in the dust for the same reason, and Asenka followed suit for her long sword. Yvka sorted through the magical items in her pouch for weapons that would deter the mummies without damaging them to the point where the spiderlings they hosted were set free. Ghaji didn't know whether Yvka could employ the magic of her dragonmark so soon after wielding it against the dark serpent that had taken control of Solus, but even if she could, he had no idea what use it would be against the web mummies. Though the same luminescent mold grew here on the walls of the crypt just as it did in the outer cavern, the light was so dim that Ghaji doubted Yvka's shadow magic would make any difference to the mummies.

So Hinto and Onu threw dust, Ghaji and Asenka struck the attacking web mummies using the flats of their dust-coated blades, and Yvka tossed a variety of mystic weapons designed by the artificers of the Shadow Network-walnuts that exploded with concussive force, thistles that flew through the air and traced lines that created magical barriers. Thus Ghaji and the others managed to hold back the tide of undead without releasing any more spiderlings.

But the dust covering their weapons soon rubbed off, and Asenka's long sword became stuck fast to a web mummy's chest. As the mummy reached out to grab hold of Asenka, Ghaji started forward, intending to keep the monster from getting its undead claws on her. But before he could do more than take a step in her direction, a hand fell on his shoulder, and a hollow voice said, "Allow me."

Ghaji was startled to see a web mummy walk past him-when had the thing gotten through their defenses? — and stagger toward Asenka. The creature walked with one hand held palm up, and Ghaji saw that the thing carried a handful of crypt-dust. The mummy stepped up to the one reaching for Asenka and rubbed the dust it carried onto the blade of her sword. Asenka looked at the mummy assisting her in disbelief, but she was no fool. She yanked her sword free and quickly stepped back out of reach of either mummy. Their undead benefactor then rubbed its hands together, making sure both were coated with dust, and then shoved the other mummy as hard as it could. The second mummy stumbled backward, bumped into the edge of a sepulcher, and fell into it, web-wrapped legs sticking up and waving uselessly in the air.

The helper-mummy turned back to face them, a familiar grin on its desiccated, sunken-eyed face, and that's when Ghaji noticed that beneath web-strands covering the mummy lay a bright red sea captain's coat.

"I'm glad that worked," Onu said. "I wasn't sure I could fool the beastly things!"

Ghaji grinned back in relief. After that, the battle went more easily, for Onu-still wearing the shape of a web mummy-was able to walk right up to the real creatures and rub dust on them without interference. Thus Ghaji and the others continued holding the web mummies at bay, the half-orc hoping that Diran was having equal success dealing with Nathifa.

In the confusion, no one-including Asenka-noticed that when she tore her sword free from the web mummy, a tiny red spider no larger than an infant's fist clung to the blade. This youngling had been hiding close to the surface of its host's dead, dry flesh, doing its best to avoid being devoured by its ravenous sisters. When Asenka yanked her sword away, a small scrap of skin came with it, a scrap the youngling was clinging to. The spider, following its instincts to attack anything that threatened its host, scuttled down the length of the sword toward the hilt and onto the back of Asenka's hand. The warrior woman felt the feather-light touch of the spiderling's legs on her flesh, But before she could shake off the tiny creature, it sank its fangs into the back of her hand and released venom into her system.

The bite was painful, but Asenka had endured worse in her time, and her only reaction was to draw in a hissing breath of air that no one else heard. She gave her hand a violent shake, dislodged the spiderling onto the floor, and crushed it beneath her boot before it could crawl away. She then examined the back of her hand. The bite was already swelling and beginning to purple, and she could feel it throb in concert with her pulse. She didn't experience any immediate effects of the venom, though. No lightheadedness, no nausea. She decided that not only had the spiderling been too small to deliver much venom but that she'd managed to dislodge it before it could inject what little it could. Besides, she had more important things to worry about than a tiny spider bite right now. She had to help the others keep the web mummies busy and buy Diran enough time to stop Nathifa.

And so Asenka returned her attention to battle, the spider's bite all but forgotten.

Makala and Haaken stood wrapped in webbing strong as steel, held captive by a pair of web mummies while crimson spiderlings crawled across their bodies, stinging whatever flesh remained exposed. The younglings' mother crouched in front of them, the tomb spider's fangs glistening with fluid as she prepared to inject them with her venom. The only reason the giant spider hadn't done so by now, Makala assumed, was because the arrival of Diran and his companions had distracted her. But now that the rest of the tomb spider's web mummies were attacking the intruders, evidently the mother was ready to return to the business at hand: namely preparing new hosts in which she could implant eggs.

The spiderlings' stings hurt, but Makala's undead physiology seemed unaffected by their venom. She wasn't certain what effect a full dose from an adult tomb spider might do, though. Haaken roared and struggled against his silken bonds as the spiderlings savaged his body, but Makala thought the wereshark reacted more out of rage and frustration than pain. While Haaken was a lycanthrope, he was still a living creature, and might well react more strongly to an injection of adult tomb spider venom.

Makala didn't care what happened to Haaken, nor did she care whether or not Nathifa succeeded in absorbing the magic of Paganus's hoard. Right now all she cared about was not becoming a repository for a clutch of tomb spider eggs.

As the tomb spider moved forward to bite Makala, the vampire transformed into mist. The arachnid's fangs passed through her insubstantial form harmlessly. The web mummy that had been holding onto her staggered backward as if in confusion, and the webbing that had encircled her, with nothing solid left to hold it up, fell to the crypt floor. The tomb spider scuttled backward and crouched low, wary. Its prey had vanished and its tiny spider mind was attempting to grasp what had happened and whether or not this strange development constituted a new threat.

Makala willed her mist-form to float upward and over the tomb spider, and then she transformed back into her humanoid shape. Makala dropped onto the tomb spider's back and, marshalling all her vampire's strength, she rammed her hands through the creature's body. There was a loud crunching sound as Makala penetrated the spider's outer shell, and then her hands were covered with thick warm fluid. Makala grasped hold of the slippery soft organs inside and pulled.

The tomb spider reared back in agony, front legs waving wildly in the air. Makala was thrown backward off the spider, the guts she held onto trailing out of the creature's back like streamers of bloody meat. She released the organs, transformed into a bat in midair, and swooped up toward the crypt's ceiling. Using a combination of both her bat and vampire senses, Makala was able to form a clear mental image of the battle occurring below.

She "saw" the tomb spider start to come back down on its forelegs. As it did, Haaken pulled free from the web mummy that held him and threw himself beneath one of the spider's legs. The claw on the leg's tip tore through the webbing wrapped about the wereshark's chest, in the process slicing a long wound down Haaken's chest and abdomen. But that didn't matter. Haaken would heal swiftly-and far more importantly, he was free.

Makala was impressed. She hadn't thought Haaken that intelligent.

Haaken let out an elated battle-roar and grabbed hold of the tomb spider's two front forelegs. The giant arachnid brought her mouth parts down in an attempt to sink her fangs into Haaken's broad shark-like head. But before she could strike, Haaken ripped the forelegs legs out of her body, and the tomb spider squealed in pain. She scuttled backward, gore spilling from the gaping wounds were her legs had been attached to her body, but Haaken had scented the blood of his prey, and the wereshark wasn't about to let the tomb spider escape. He leaped forward, claws outstretched, tooth-filled maw open wide, and as he landed atop the spider, he clamped his jaws down upon the spider's eyes and bit down with all his might. The tomb spider's shell cracked open like that of a steamed crab beneath the pressure of the wereshark's jaws and gore sprayed over Haaken. The tomb spider whipped about from side to side in a desperate attempt to dislodge her attacker, but Haaken held on tight with his clawed hands, biting, tearing, and rending.

Finally, the spider's body slumped to the floor of the crypt and its remaining legs curled inward, twitching feebly as the creature surrendered to death. Haaken, his shark's snout smeared with blood and viscera, continued ravaging the tomb spider's corpse, gulping down great mouthfuls of the thing's innards with mindless efficiency.

Leontis stood by, only half-listening while Diran explained his plan to the psiforged and the artificer. The priest watched with increasing frustration as the battle took place around him and, far worse, without him. He was Sir Leontis of the Order of Templars, and it wasn't in his nature to stand idly by while others risked their lives in the struggle against evil. He understood why Diran had asked him to stay back, though. If Nathifa was a powerful enough lich, it was possible that both priests would be needed to stop her, but Leontis knew another reason-perhaps the most important one-was that Diran didn't want to risk having Leontis lose control of his lupine side again so soon after what had happened in the forest when they'd fought the shadowclaws. The werewolf had helped the others against those monsters then, but what guarantee was there that the beast wouldn't turn on Leontis's companions this time? None at all.

Leontis recognized the logic in Diran's strategy and even agreed with it, but it still chafed. Diran had played upon their friendship to convince Leontis to come along on this quest, all for the sake of some dubious visions revealed by a demon desperate to make a deal to prevent being cast out of its young host body. Leontis had allowed himself to be convinced, telling himself that perhaps he could do one last bit of good before leaving this mortal plane and joining with the Silver Flame. But he'd contributed little to the group's efforts so far. He'd stopped a Fury-crazed Ghaji from slaying Diran, and he'd killed the flying creature that had been about to attack them as their longboat had approached the island, and that was all. The werewolf had done far more, killing numerous shadowclaws before being caught in the fireblast. It seemed that for all his vaunted training and priestly abilities, Leontis was of less use than the wild animal that shared his soul.

Why should he keep fighting the wolf inside him, then? Perhaps there was a reason he had been infected with the curse of lycanthropy. Perhaps it wasn't a curse, at least not in his case. Perhaps it was, instead, a weapon that he was meant to wield in his order's battle against evil. Evil against evil, fire against fire…

He shook his head. That was the werewolf talking, not the man. The beast would do anything to be free again, even attempt to persuade Leontis to believe that evil could be used as a tool for good when wielded by one of the Purified. But that was the sort of thinking that led to abuses of power. The ends did not justify the means, no matter what. The teachings of the priesthood were absolutely clear on this, and so Leontis vowed to continue fighting to keep the werewolf caged inside him.

But then he heard an animalistic roar, and the sound sent a strange fire surging up his spine and into his brain. Leontis trained his gaze upon a creature that appeared to be half-human and half-shark. In the confusion, Leontis hadn't taken much notice of the creature, but he knew instinctively that it was a fellow lycanthrope. The wereshark attacked the tomb spider, leaping upon the arachnid and biting huge hunks out of her.

Leontis felt the fire in his mind build into a raging inferno at the sight of the wereshark glutting itself on the spider's internal organs, and when the wolf came to the fore, there was nothing he could do to stop the beast from taking possession of his body. And as he felt his persona giving way to the werewolf's savagery, he was horrified to realize that not only did he like it, he welcomed it.

Diran saw Leontis shift into his hybrid wolf form and bounded toward the wereshark. The sea-based lycanthrope had slain the tomb spider-something Diran supposed they all should be grateful for-and was engaged in devouring the mutilated remains. Diran had been born and raised in the Principalities, and thus knew that sharks would eat virtually anything, but he had a difficult time believing anyone with even a shred of humanity in them would eat a tomb spider, let alone do so with such enthusiastic delight. In addition, tomb spiders were creatures suffused with negative energy, and Diran couldn't see how even a lycanthrope could ingest the horrid thing's meat without being affected somehow by that energy.

Diran shouted Leontis's name, in a vain attempt to call him back, but it was too late. The man was gone and only the werewolf remained. Leontis snarled as he threw himself upon the wereshark, and the lycanthropes began trying to kill each other, two predators that instinctively sensed and loathed a competitor.

Diran wished he could go to his friend's aid, but there was nothing he could do for Leontis right now. He spared a second to wonder where Makala was-he'd seen her transform into mist and attack the tomb spider, but he hadn't witnessed the outcome of her action. Either the spider had wounded her somehow or, more likely, Makala was still close by, either in mist or bat form. He'd vowed to free his former lover from the curse of undeath and undo the mistake he'd made by not slaying her the moment she awoke as a vampire. Hopefully, he'd get the chance to redeem himself soon… after Nathifa was stopped. The lich had to be dealt with before she could absorb even more of the magic in Paganus's hoard.

Diran turned to Tresslar and Solus. "Ready?"

The psiforged and the artificer nodded. Both held daggers given them by the priest, one in each hand. Diran held the same number.

"Throw!" Diran commanded, and the three companions tossed the daggers straight up into the air, without even attempting to aim them anywhere in particular. When the daggers reached the apex of their less-than-graceful flight, Solus grabbed hold of the blades telekinetically and sent them streaking toward the oversized eyeball hovering above Nathifa's head.

The guardian eye released a blast of necromantic energy at the six oncoming daggers, but the blades fanned out, and the ebon beam managed to deflect only one. The remaining five encircled the eye and began rotating rapidly around the living orb, moving with such blinding speed that Diran had a difficult time keeping track of the knives. The eye, moving just as swiftly as the blades, oriented on one after the other, blasting them out of the air with dark beams of mystic force. One blade, two… three… four…

At Solus's mental command, the last dagger curved away in the opposite direction from where the three companions stood. The eye tracked the blade, turning away from them as it prepared to deal with this final threat. As soon as the guardian eye faced the other direction and couldn't see them, Diran slipped another dagger out of its cloak sheath, aimed, and hurled the blade at the back of eye. As the eye blasted the last of the rotating blades, the new dagger plunged into it from behind, and the guardian orb exploded in a spray of blood and viscous fluid.

Nathifa cried out in pain and frustration, but she didn't allow her concentration to slacken. The lich continued absorbing magic into the Amahau, but now she had no guardian to protect her. Solus released control of the levitating daggers and the blades fell to the floor. There was no point in the psiforged driving them into the lich. The only way she could be killed was if the phylactery containing her lifeforce was discovered and destroyed. But if Diran could get close enough, he could use the power of the Silver Flame to repel her, giving Tresslar a chance to regain possession of his dragonwand.

The priest drew a silver dagger from his cloak and removed his arrowhead symbol from his vest pocket. He then turned to Solus and Tresslar.

"Be careful," he warned his companions. "Even diminished as Nathifa is by the loss of her arm and eye, she is still most powerful-all the more so because she possesses the dragonwand."

"I shall remember," Solus said.

"You take care of the lich," Tresslar said, a determined look on his face. "You let me worry about the Amahau."

Diran nodded, and together the three started toward the lich.

Nathifa was no stranger to mystic power, but she'd never experienced anything like the Amahau before. The sheer amount of magical energy that it could hold was astonishing. It had already drained a good portion of Paganus's hoard, and Nathifa could sense that it wasn't near to being full. How much magic could the dragonhead contain? With its power hers to command, she would be like unto a god herself. She could keep the artifact for herself, continue traveling throughout the Principalities and absorbing magic wherever she went. And when she finally had enough, she could travel to the Fingerbone Mountains and challenge Vol. With the power of the Amahau, she could defeat the Lich Queen, cast her down, and take her place on the throne of bones.

But Nathifa knew it was a foolish dream. She'd made a bargain with Prince Moren to get the supplies to repair the Zephyr, and the bill would come due soon-long before she could ever hope to acquire enough power to challenge Vol. Nathifa wondered if perhaps this wasn't how her Queen had planned it all along. Vol might well have sent the Ragestorm, and Prince Moren had answered her summons rather quickly. Perhaps he'd been waiting close by at Vol's command.

No matter, Nathifa decided. The die was cast, and events would play themselves out as they would. Let Vol's reign continue. As long as Nathifa finally had her vengeance on Kolbyr, she would be satisfied.

Though the bulk of her concentration was focused on controlling the Amahau, she was able to spare a fraction of her awareness to monitor the progress of the battle around her. Skarm writhed on the crypt floor, his barghest physiology doing its best to fight off the web spider's venom. Nathifa knew he was fighting a losing battle, though. The venom was simply too strong. Nathifa was pleased that Haaken had killed the web spider, but she was surprised to see the wereshark now fought with another lycanthrope. The lich had been aware that a werewolf numbered among Bastiaan's companions, and she couldn't conceive of a priest-especially one devoted to the Silver Flame-associating with such a monster. There was obviously more to that story than met the eye.

Nathifa saw no sign of Makala, and she wondered if the vampire had betrayed her and fled. Most likely not, Nathifa decided. Makala had many annoying qualities, but cowardice wasn't among them. Makala was probably lurking about somewhere, alert for an opportunity to turn the tide of battle in her favor.

She was pleased that the web mummies and her dark-eye were proving effective at keeping Bastiaan and his friends busy. If the priest and his companions could be held off for a few more moments, she'd be able to-

Pain blossomed in the empty socket where Nathifa's left eye had been, and the lich cried out, more in anger than in hurt. She didn't know how, since she was only subconsciously connected to the dark-eye, but she knew Bastiaan had somehow managed to destroy it. This knowledge was confirmed a split-second later when warm viscous fluid pattered down onto her head and shoulders.

Not now! I'm so close…

But Nathifa knew her time was up. Weakened as she was by the sacrifices of her arm and eye, she couldn't hope to stand against Bastiaan, especially not without the aid of her servants. Whatever power she had managed to drain into the Amahau would have to serve.

The lich had no need to check if Bastiaan was attacking. She knew he was as surely as she'd ever known anything in her long, foul life. She commanded the Amahau to cease absorbing magic from the items in Paganus's hoard, and she pushed the dragonwand back into the inky-black substance of her shroud. Her body burst apart into dozens of shadowy scraps that resembled ebon leaves, and they swirled about the crypt as if in the grip of turbulent winds. One scrap passed near the ceiling, close to the ear of a black bat, and Nathifa whispered, "Time to leave." Another scrap blew by Haaken's head, and it whispered the same thing to the wereshark. The shadow-leaves then tumbled end over end toward the rough-hewn entrance Paganus had created when he first discovered the crypt millennia ago. She was aware of Bastiaan holding forth his arrowhead symbol, the silver light blazing painfully as she passed. But her form was too diffuse and moving too swiftly for the burning illumination to do more than cause her momentary discomfort. And then Nathifa was through the entrance, a black cloud of shadow-leaves tumbling down the tunnel toward the dragon's cavern lair, her voice a chorus of delighted laughter as she made her escape.

Asenka watched as the web mummies broke off their attack and began a slow, shuffling retreat to the far side of the crypt. The undead things seemed almost afraid of them now, and she couldn't figure out why, until she turned and saw that the tomb spider had been killed-and in an extremely messy fashion. Without their parent to command the web mummies, the egg-hosts had a new purpose: to preserve the lives of the spiderlings growing inside them. They would no longer risk damaging themselves, for to do so would endanger the lives of the children they carried. A distorted reflection of parental instinct, she supposed, but one that proved an advantage for her and the others.

Her hand throbbed from where the spiderling had bitten her. But though sweat dripped down the sides of her face, and she felt light-headed and sick to her stomach, she forced herself not to worry. Even if she had taken a large enough dose of venom to prove deadly, all she had to do was hold out long enough for the battle to end, and then Diran could heal her. She was Commander of the Sea Scorpions, the elite warriors of Baron Perhata. She could deal with a little bit of poison in her veins. After all, the ale in Perhata was so awful, it practically qualified as poison in its own right, and she'd quaffed enough of the bitter stuff over the years to build up immunity to any toxic substance, right?

She was horrified to see Leontis-in werewolf form-battling the wereshark, and the scene was so nightmarish that for a moment she feared the spider venom was making her hallucinate. But then she saw Nathifa break apart into a flurry of shadows, and she decided it had to be real. Even in delirium, she wouldn't have been able to dream up something that bizarre. As the shadows flew out of the crypt, a bat descended from the ceiling and headed for Leontis and the wereshark. The bat changed as it landed, and Makala reached out and grabbed hold of Leontis by the scruff of his neck and saw that the werewolf was bleeding from dozens of cuts made by the wereshark's claws The werewolf spun around, intending to sink his claws into whoever had the temerity to interrupt his battle with a fellow lycanthrope. But before Leontis could land a blow on Makala, Haaken took advantage of his foe's distraction to snatch the werewolf from the vampire's grasp. Before Leontis could react, Haaken hurled him away, and the werewolf soared through the air-

— straight toward Asenka.

She tried to avoid being struck by the werewolf, but he was moving too fast. Leontis slammed into Asenka, and she saw bright white flash behind her eyes, followed by darkness.