The Jewel of Turmish

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

"Hold the line, boys! Hold the line and drive those undead vermin back into the sea so the fish can choke on them!" a grizzled veteran of the Alagh?n Watch spat as he marched along the docks behind a contingent of his men only a short distance in front of Haarn. Haarn stood ready in the line of warriors that faced Alagh?n's harbor. He couldn't believe all the sailors and warriors had gathered there on the spindly wooden docks. It was no place to fight even if they did have arrows. Haarn wanted the solid footing of the ground beneath him and room to move as he needed to instead of being packed in like one lemming among many. Ettrian stood with the Elder Circle farther back from the line of piers. They conferred with watch commanders and other officials of the city. Haarn wasn't surprised to note that Shinthala Deepcrest, Ashenford Torinbow, and an elf woman he had to suppose was Lady Shadowmoon Crystalembers-the third member of the Elder Circle-all seemed to know the people of Alagh?n. He was surprised to see that his father was on quite comfortable terms with some people of Alagh?n as well. Haarn glanced at Druz, who stood beside him. The warriors-men and women, humans and elves, with a few dwarves thrown in-all yelled threats at the approaching ships. It was a primitive defense, Haarn knew, one that was ingrained into every species: act louder and bigger than the opposition, hoping to scare them away. But how did they hope to scare dead men? "This is wrong," Haarn said, loud enough to be heard over the crowd. Druz looked at him from beneath the armored helm she'd been given. "If it's the crowd you don't like…" Haarn shook his head. The crowd made him claustrophobic, but that wasn't the problem. "They're forgetting that they're not fighting flesh and blood men," Haarn said, glancing around. The warriors had gathered with the druids, all of them figuring that a show of combined force would bring a swift end to Borran Kiosk. "It'll work," Druz said. Haarn knew she was wrong. He looked over the heads of the warriors in front of him. The two small ships that had been hidden away at the sides of the inner harbor broke cover and raced to overtake the bigger ships. Only a handful of men crewed each of the small ships. The Elder Circle had conspired with members of the Assembly of Stars based in Alagh?n to put the plan into operation. Shinthala Deepcrest had scried a glimpse of Borran Kiosk at the Whamite Isles. They knew from her sighting that the mohrg had recruited troops from the sea zombies dwelling in the waters surrounding the island ruins, but it was only two shiploads. The general consensus was that they were hardly a threat, even though the zombies were difficult to kill. A familiar scent stirred the air. Haarn identified it almost immediately as the scent of the skeleton that had almost killed him. They'd never found its trail again, but it would be no surprise that the creature had made its way to Alagh?n to be with its master. A rousing cheer went up through the crowd as the two small ships closed quickly on Borran Kiosk's pirated vessels. Putting his doubts aside for a moment, still curious about the scent of the skeleton, Haarn urged Broadfoot forward, breaking the line of warriors ahead of him so he had a better view. Only a few feet away from the zombie-filled ships, the crew of the two smaller craft set fire to the oil-soaked pay-loads of tinder and pitch that they carried. Flames raged from prow to stern on the two smaller craft, sweeping as high as the masts, catching the oil-drenched sails afire as well. As heavily laden as the two zombie ships were, they couldn't have taken evasive action even if skilled human crews had been aboard. The two ships careened forward, driven by the wind and tide. The crews of the fireships abandoned their vessels just before impact, diving into the water. Smaller and lighter than the stolen frigates, the fireships struck and broke apart, smashing against the hulls of the bigger ships. The flames spread across the water, floating on the surface, and clung to the bigger ships. Another rousing cheer went up from the warriors gathered along the dockyards. "Haarn." Turning, Haarn found his father standing behind him. "When this happens," Ettrian said, his face grim, "stay close to me." "Borran Kiosk isn't going to stop," Haarn said, looking around at the cheering crowd. "All he wants to do is find the five skeletons that carry the jewels," Ettrian said, "and he's going to kill as many of these people as he can to do it." "We need to warn them!" Haarn shouted over the bedlam. "There's no way," Ettrian said. "Not over this." A thousand questions flooded Haarn's mind, but there was no time to ask any of them. He scented the air again, realizing that he had the skeleton's direction now, but he couldn't take his eyes from the carnage about to be unleashed on Alagh?n's dockyards. Borran Kiosk stood prominently on the flying deck of his commandeered ship. A woman stood at his side, but she was no normal woman. All at once, the realization that Borran Kiosk hadn't ordered the burning sails lowered or the anchor dropped spread through the crowd of warriors. A mass exodus of the front line began, but they had to try to fight their way through the people in back who hadn't yet seen that the mohrg had no intention of turning back. Haarn was caught in the crowd, pushed and shoved as were Druz and Ettrian, moving but going nowhere. "Grab onto Broadfoot!" Ettrian shouted over the yells and screams of the scrambling warriors. Haarn knotted his fists in the bear's pelt, pulling himself close. They clung to the bear while the rest of the warriors abandoned their posts and moved around them like a raging ocean. Broadfoot growled and swiped at people who came too close to him. His claws never broke skin, but Haarn knew there would be more than a few people with bruises in the morning-if they survived Borran Kiosk's attack. Haarn watched anxiously as the zombie ships bore down on the dockyards. Nearly all of Alagh?n's piers stood on pilings buried deep in the harbor mud, but none of them were strong enough to withstand the tonnage of ships hurtling at them. The flaming sails of Borran Kiosk's craft highlighted the zombies standing on the deck. None of them moved, even up to the point of impact. The two ships struck the docks, reducing the piers to splinters, ripping through the pilings and shoving docks that weren't torn to pieces at once back into the shoreside warehouses. The groaning, shearing, crumbling carnage filled the harbor with deafening noise. Other ships lying at anchor against the docks caught fire as well when flaming debris from the two zombie ships flew onto their decks and into their rigging. In the space of a drawn breath, a dozen ships had caught fire and a conflagration began that looked as though it might well burn the harbor down. Haarn fought to maintain his position at Broadfoot's side. The stained glass windows of the tall buildings overlooking the harbor caught the red and orange glow of the burning ships. Borran Kiosk's ships came apart. Zombies tumbled and were thrown onto the ground when the vessels rammed into the land behind the piers and finally stopped. Not much was left of either of them. The shipwrecks put Haarn in the mind of anthills the way the zombies boiled from their holds. Borran Kiosk must have stacked them on top of each other like sacks of grain in a merchant's wagon. The zombies stumbled from the wrecks and from the sea, coming into the shore like a tidal wave of dead flesh. Warriors stood their ground where they could. The battle, thought a certain victory by the living army of warriors and druids only moments before, swiftly became a bloodbath. Haarn watched in helpless frustration as the front line of Alagh?n's defenders went down under the hands and fangs of Borran Kiosk's undead forces. "Where is Borran Kiosk?" Ettrian demanded, yelling to be heard above the sounds of the one-sided battle. "I don't know!" Haarn shouted back. "I lost sight of him when the ships struck the docks." He urged Broadfoot up and forward. The bear was more than equal to the task, shoving aside the warriors who didn't move readily enough for him. When news of Borran Kiosk's impending return had spread throughout Alagh?n, most of the populace had been of a mind to pack up and leave. Some of them had, but there were a number of others who rallied to the cause. The volunteer army had swiftly grown beyond the ability of the Assembly of Stars to control. When the flaming ships hit the docks, that volunteer army was the first, and least orderly, to beat a hasty retreat. "A line is forming in front!" Ettrian cried over the roaring chaos. "I see them!" Haarn shouted back. His senses whirled, confused by the press of people around him, by the alien landscape of the city, and by sight of the zombies crawling out of the harbor and starting toward the city. A ragged line of warriors made up of members of the Alagh?n city watch and the Emerald Enclave formed at the retreating backs of the last of the volunteers to escape the approaching zombies. Haarn's heart swelled with pride as he watched the druids attack their undead foes. In the face of overwhelming odds, the druids stood their ground. Broadfoot burst through the final ranks of the retreating would-be city champions and rose to his hind legs. Towering over the zombies, the bear laid waste to them. Massive blows from his front paws scattered the zombies in broken heaps of bone and torn flesh. Haarn clutched his scimitar tightly and cut at a zombie to his left. The heavy blade connected and the zombie's head leaped from its shoulders. Broadfoot roared again, dropping to all fours for an instant to regain his balance, then he surged up once more like a flesh and blood mountain and knocked a dozen zombies backward into each other. The first few were only bags of bones that were never going to be able to move again. Magic shimmered through the air. Great tentacles formed from thin air, and multi-colored rays touched zombies and reduced them to dust. Haarn grabbed the hand of another zombie as he drew the scimitar back, unable to get it into play quickly. Yanking on the zombie's hand, he pulled the foul thing off-balance then chopped the scimitar across its back, ripping through dead flesh and biting through its spine. Black seawater boiled from the zombie's guts as its stomach opened and small crabs scuttled out. Fighting revulsion, Haarn drew back his scimitar and cleaved the skull of another zombie. The creature continued to stare at the druid with hatred in its dead eyes, and it reached for him. Haarn slapped the creature's hand away with his free arm then stepped forward and to the side. He stamped and shattered the zombie's knee, driving it to the tilted wooden pier. Only a short distance away, Druz Talimsir fought for her life. Her sword flew, gleaming as it reflected the flames that still burned in the ships, and zombie body parts dropped to the ground around her. Blood spattered her face and arms, and since the zombies didn't bleed, Haarn knew it was hers, though there were dead humans and elves at her feet as well. A female druid came sprawling back out of the melee ahead of Haarn. He caught her and barely blocked a knife thrust in time that would have opened his throat for him. "Sorry," she said then lunged back into the fray. By the time she reached the line of undead staggering out of the water, she'd shifted into the form of a leopard. Her claws and fangs flicked into the zombies, slicing them to ribbons. Haarn raced to aid Druz, getting there just in time to watch the mercenary skewer the last zombie in front of her with her long sword, then rip its throat out with her knife, decapitating it. She whirled on him, bringing her weapons to the ready. "Are you all right?" Haarn asked. Druz wiped the blood from her face. Only a few scratches showed and none of them looked serious. "I'm fine," she said as she sheathed her dagger and leaned down, scooping up a round shield from a dead soldier. Another lurch of zombies drew Haarn's attention back to survival. He fought with every trick and skill he knew. Anything mortal would have fallen before his blades a long time before. He thanked Silvanus that the zombies were so slow. He was tiring, but he was still faster than they were. A whirlwind took shape near the water's edge, and Haarn knew that one of the elder druids had summoned it. The shrieking column of air danced through the zombies, picking them up and shooting them high into the air. The undead things fell back down onto the burning wrecks. Farther out beyond the water's edge, four water elementals surged up from the roiling surface. They rose from the sea like storm-tossed waves, each with two deep green orbs that served as eyes. When the elementals encountered zombies, they wrapped their watery arms around them and dragged them under the sea. The water churned, then zombie pieces-no longer in any shape to be animated-floated to the top. Broadfoot continued fighting, snapping off hands, arms, and the occasional leg as chance permitted. His huge basso growls flooded the air, but the noise didn't bother the advancing zombies. "Have you seen Borran Kiosk?" someone shouted above the din. "Not since the shipwreck," someone else answered. Haarn cut the legs from under a zombie and looked out to sea. The water elementals continued attacking the zombies coming out of the ocean, but they worked between floating pools of burning oil. "Eldath preserve us!" a cleric wearing the Quiet One's colors on a blood-spattered robe said from only a short distance away. "There are more of them!" Haarn watched in disbelief as the flickering lights of the burning ships and the flaming oil pools revealed the secret that Borran Kiosk had kept even after the attack. Zombies marched from the harbor pulling huge fishing nets that were filled with even more zombies. As Haarn battled, trying desperately to get to the nets and slay the zombies that pulled them to shore, the zombies inside the net began to stir. They opened their jaws and chewed at the nets. The ones that had teeth parted the strands and began crawling out. "Fall back! Fall back!" a watch officer yelled. "We can't hold this position against the reinforcements. We'll hold them at the second line of defense!" Haarn grabbed Broadfoot's fur and yanked the bear backward. Growling and snapping his fangs, Broadfoot dropped to all fours and grudgingly gave ground. "Haarn!" Druz called. "Look out!" Spinning, Haarn tried to focus in the direction she'd indicated. He lifted his scimitar, but it was too late. A zombie hit him with a fist and the black talons opened a cut along the top of his shoulder. Blood covered his arm. Reeling from the impact, hardly aware of the pain, the druid stumbled back and tried to get his knife up to defend himself. The zombie drew its fist back again, focusing its dead gaze on Haarn. The druid knew he would never get the knife up in time and watched helplessly as the zombie's fist came crashing down.

Hip-deep in Alagh?n's harbor, surrounded by fire and the screams of dying men, Borran Kiosk marched under the shattered remnants of the docks, praying to Malar that the sewer drains yet remained intact after the ships had torn the docks apart. Allis splashed along after him, still in half-spider form. "Where are we going?" she asked in her sibilant voice. "To win the battle," Borran Kiosk replied. "We've gathered the zombies and loosed them on the city. They are winning the battle," Allis protested. "They need a leader with them." "They need a leader who has possession of Taraketh's Hive," Borran Kiosk argued, "not someone who would be destroyed with them. Don't forget that they are merely things. They are nothing like me." He glanced under the sagging timbers of the pier, looking for an opening on the inclined land beneath the docks. Giving up, he seized an oil-soaked piece of timber that floated on top of the water and still maintained a flickering flame. When he lifted the timber from the water, the flame caught hold more strongly. The flame also attracted the attention of one of the water elementals busy destroying the zombies he'd brought in from the Whamite Isles. Great green orbs turned in Borran Kiosk's direction. Without hesitation, the water elemental started for the mohrg. Harnessing the power of Malar's Glove, Borran Kiosk spoke a spell to dismiss the elemental. He pointed at the creature and a bright orange light pulsed from his hand. When the light struck the elemental, the creature froze in place then became transparent, showing the burning ship only a short distance behind it. The elemental fought the power of the spell, roaring in rage and sounding like a crashing wave, but Borran Kiosk, aided by the magic in Malar's Glove, was too strong. In the next moment, the elemental was completely gone. Borran Kiosk turned and retreated under the pilings again. Deep under the wreckage that remained of the pier, Borran Kiosk paused and closed his eyes. The power he'd placed within each of the five skeletons allowed him to peer through their eyes. All of the skeletons had taken up positions around the docks and were watching the battle, and all of them were filled with the lust to join in the massacre. Borran Kiosk denied them their urges just has he had forced them to remain in seclusion inside Alagh?n. Most of them had been there for days, hiding in abandoned buildings, tool sheds, and cellars awaiting his return. One of them was severely damaged, though, missing an arm and a foot. It had replaced the missing foot with a block of wood, and it stood perched on a rooftop, staring down at the warriors and druids retreating from the advancing lines of sea zombies. Somewhere in the dim recesses of emotion that its limited intellect clung to, the skeleton wanted vengeance for the injuries that had been dealt it. Clamping down on the skeleton's dark desires, bending it more thoroughly to his will, Borran Kiosk ordered it into motion again, heading it for the rendezvous point. The view through the skeleton's eyes shifted from the dockside battle to the jewel it clutched in its remaining hand. The crimson facets held a wet gleam. The skeleton's gaze swept on to the next rooftop. Even with one foot missing, it had enough power to jump between the buildings. The wooden block made landing difficult, but it was underway. Borran Kiosk opened his eyes and found Allis staring at him. Behind her, limned in the fire of the burning ships, the battle raged on as more of the zombies made their way to shore. He laughed at his own cleverness and knew the city's defenders had to have been shocked and dismayed to see still more troops coming up from the depths. Turning, the mohrg plunged deeper under the dark recesses of the piers. The makeshift torch in his hand lit the way, bringing the mouth of the sewer at the end of it into sharp relief. The sewer was almost ten feet wide, big enough to get small boats down into it in order to clean the drains. Crimson-eyed rats peered out at him from behind the rusting iron grate across the sewer's mouth. Green sewer water spewed into the harbor "Here," Borran Kiosk said, passing the torch back to Allis. She took it grudgingly. "What are we doing here?" The timbers supporting the pier overhead creaked and groaned as if it might give way. Being underneath the structure obviously made her nervous. Borran Kiosk growled as he seized the sewer grate. The rats squealed and plunged back into the dark throat of the sewer. "We are going to destroy the Emerald Enclave by taking away the one thing they live for: the wild lands of Turmish." "How?" Borran Kiosk grabbed the iron grate and yanked. The bolts set into the stone foundation defied him for the moment, but he heard the shrill of rusty metal turning loose. He bent to the task again. "With Taraketh's Hive," he answered. Allis shook her head, her many opal eyes glittering from the burning ships out in the harbor. "I have read about the device," she said. "It was crafted by Taraketh Greenglimmer, an elf druid, who lived hundreds of years ago." "More than a thousand," Borran Kiosk corrected. He yanked on the metal grate again, and this time it came free, giving them access to the sewer. He threw the grate into the water, then took the torch again from her hand. "Taraketh Greenglimmer helped stock the insect population around the Sea of Fallen Stars," he said. "After the stars fell from the heavens and destroyed so much of the lands that had been here, and water filled in the depths left behind, nature was out of balance here. Taraketh corrected most of that imbalance and helped make these lands more hospitable to elves. Of course, the humans promptly moved in once the regions were arable and more comfortable." "But Taraketh's Hive only summons insects," Allis protested, "and only a few of them at a time." Borran Kiosk stepped up into the sewer, noticing that his cloak dragged through the fouled water. He reached back and tore the cloak off. There was no longer any need for disguises. He plunged down the sewer, taking great strides that sent rats scattering in all directions. After a moment's hesitation, Allis followed. Before she took more than a handful of steps into the sewer, the section of the piers they'd been standing under collapsed with a thunderous crash of splintering wood. Borran Kiosk only glanced back for a moment to make sure they weren't pursued. He didn't hesitate in his forward momentum. His future and the destruction of every living thing on the Turmish coastline and perhaps the Vilhon Reach itself lay ahead of him. "What can you do with insects?" Allis asked. "You should be leading the army you brought back from the Whamite Isles. That's why Malar had the glove made." Borran Kiosk wheeled around on her, giving vent to the anger that raged within him. His long, thick, purple tongue slid free of his jaws before he knew it. He almost sent it spiking into her face, stopping himself only at the last moment. "I sought long and hard for my victory against the damned Emerald Enclave," he growled. "The cities along the Turmish coast were going to be mine. Mine! I had them all in the palm of my hand, but then the Emerald Enclave had to step in and ruin it." Allis stepped back from him, drawing up to her full height. The mohrg continued, "Now the Emerald Enclave will have to sit and watch as everything they have fought to build and preserve slowly dies and withers to ash. My vengeance will be complete, and it will be years in the making-not some invasion of Alagh?n that will bring about return attacks from the rest of Turmish. I learned that last time. You can't destroy living things. They have a tendency to unite, even when they are from disparate causes and normally hate each other. I taught them to hate me even more and to fear me. Give them something larger than themselves and they will rise to conquer it. Together." Allis said nothing, and a moment passed before her footsteps started splashing in the muck after him. "I would be a fool if I hadn't learned something during my incarceration," Borran Kiosk said, reminding himself more than he was telling her. "Once I have assembled Taraketh's Hive and used its powers, all of these lands are doomed. I can hide and wait, though it may take a hundred years. As long as they do not destroy me, I can live forever. And I will." He thrust the torch ahead of him and continued on defiantly. "By all that is dark and unholy, they will die and-I will live!"

When she saw Haarn get hit by the zombie facing him then stumble back with blood gushing from his shoulder, Druz stepped in, praying to Tymora that she would be in time. She slid her shield under the zombie's blow. The creature's fist would probably have cracked Haarn's skull, but the shield protected him. The shock dislocated Druz's elbow. Biting back a yelp of pain, she stepped in again, still managing to hold the zombie's hand back. She shoved a hip into Haarn, knocking him out of the way. Reversing her sword, grabbing it so that it jutted down from the heel of her hand instead of up, she swept the blade across the front of the zombie. The practiced cuts sliced open the dead thing's unprotected stomach and spilled its guts in twisting coils to the pier. She pushed the shield up, crying out from the pain of the dislocated elbow, and brought the sword across the zombie's throat. The thing's head flopped backward, blinding it to anything in front of it. Druz raised a leg and kicked the zombie backward. Her opponent took three stumbling steps and fell, sprawling over two dead men in Alagh?n watch uniforms. Even as the zombie fell, three more lurched in to take its place. Druz's spirits fell. She hadn't hoped to hold the dockyards after the arrival of the zombie reinforcements. Her experience as a mercenary had made that plain, but she had hoped to live. Gritting her teeth, lifting her shield with her injured arm as best as she was able, she reversed her sword. "All right then, you dried-up, diseased bastards," she growled, "come on and taste good Cormyrean steel. My father made this blade, and he made it to last." Before the zombies could reach her, Broadfoot rushed in. The bear bled from a dozen wounds but was not slowed in the slightest. He snapped and swiped the zombies, breaking them into pieces, then growled in triumph, drawing cheers from the men struggling on either side of him. "Come on," Haarn said. She turned and found the druid behind her. Blood covered his face, and more ran down his arm, which dangled at his side and looked barely strong enough to hold his sword. "Come on," the druid said again. "Fall back to the second position with the others." Druz followed him. She stumbled wearily up the incline leading down to the docks, following Haarn as they leaned on each other. At least they were still faster than the zombies, but that blessing would be short-lived if the way her legs felt was any indication. The zombies never fatigued, and they never got weak from blood loss or hunger. She glanced around at the warriors and druids retreating from the harbor. All of them wore horror-filled faces and bore wounds. The knowledge that the dead would rise up again at Borran Kiosk's hand chilled her to the bone. She gazed at Haarn, watching the scratches heal on his face under the layer of blood. His wounded shoulder knitted itself, rebinding muscle and tissue until only pink skin remained. Haarn shook his head and spoke in a voice that sounded stronger than the hoarse one he'd addressed her with earlier. "It's not my doing." He looked around at the crowd of warriors and druids running with them. "It's a druid. A mass healing." The warriors and druids retreated into the alleys fronting Dockside, the street that ran roughly parallel to the harbor. The zombies came after them, and when they did, crews posted on the rooftops on either side of the alleys poured oil over them. "Fire!" a watch officer yelled. Flaming arrows sped from archers' bows and lit the oil. The twisting flames sucked at what flesh the zombies had left to them, drawing the cartilage tight as the moisture burned from their bodies. Still, more zombies came on. There was no doubt that the second line of defense wouldn't hold either. "Over there!" Haarn shouted, pushing Druz to the left as they cleared the alley. Druz stared through the running figures and spotted Ettrian. The elf was retreating with a group of other men, helping load wounded onto wagons that had been commandeered to evacuate warriors too wounded to fend for themselves. The wagons were nearly full and still they kept piling wounded on while the horses stamped nervously. "Father!" Haarn yelled, urging Druz to greater speed. Ettrian looked up at his son. The elf was covered in blood and gore, and the left side of his face held blistered burns. "You're still alive," the elf said. "Thank Silvanus, but I'd almost given up hope for you." "And I you," Haarn said, hugging his father. Ettrian shook his head. "We're not going to be able to hold the city. The Elder Circle has decided, along with the Alagh?n Watch, to abandon this place." "What of Borran Kiosk?" Haarn asked. "No one has seen him since the ships crashed into the harbor." Haarn's face hardened. "Borran Kiosk wasn't destroyed." "No one thinks that," Ettrian agreed, "but we can't fight him here." "There's more to it," Haarn said. Druz knew he was right. "Borran Kiosk wouldn't have just disappeared during this fight," she said. "He has another agenda. Otherwise he'd be visible here, leading his damned zombies." "What about the skeleton with the jewel?" Haarn asked. "It's never been seen." Haarn looked up, scenting the air like an animal. The wind swooping in off the harbor ruffled his hair, making it look feathery. "I can track the skeleton. I have its scent." He glanced back at his father and added, "It will go to Borran Kiosk. If I can follow it, I can find him." Ettrian hesitated. "Haarn, I shifted earlier to avoid an attack. I can't shift again. Not this soon." "Then I'll find a way to guide you there," Haarn promised. His form compressed and shifted, becoming that of an owl in the blink of an eye. The predatory bird beat his wings and flew into the sky, climbing over the rooftops and heading south. "Ettrian!" Druz shouted over the confusion of the wounded and those trying to help them onto the wagons. "You can't let Haarn go alone. It's too dangerous." The elf's face grew stern and he said, "He's my son, woman, and I won't suffer him to be lost without a fight." He turned and called out names. Three nearby druids shifted into avian shapes-another owl, a hawk, and a falcon-and flung themselves into the sky. All of them winged after Haarn, who was already growing small in the dark sky, gone before Druz had time to realize it. "One of them will come back," Ettrian said when he finished ordering another contingent of men to come to him. "If there's something that can be done then, we'll do it." "If?" Druz screamed. "Damn it! There's no if! Haarn is already out there looking for Borran Kiosk!" "We have to marshal our forces, woman!" Ettrian shouted back. "This is no longer just a battle; this is a war, and a war needs careful-" Broadfoot's growl broke Druz's attention, drawing her eyes to the bear loping through the crowd. She didn't bother to stay and hear the rest of Ettrian's speech. She knew the elf was right, but after everything she'd been through with Haarn, and with the feelings he had so unknowingly stirred within her, she knew that her place-if she could find a way-was with him. Druz went racing through the crowd in the bear's wake. Broadfoot had a connection to Haarn and they always seemed to know where the other was. She hoped it was still true. Pushing herself, she drew even with the bear as people scattered before them, then she knotted a fist in Broadfoot's pelt, leaped, and pulled herself aboard the animal. Broadfoot growled and turned back to face her. Druz thought the bear was going to try to bite her face off, but Broadfoot turned and continued forward, moving into a run when the street cleared ahead. Druz leaned over the bear, holding on tight, locking her legs around his barrel chest. His fur scraped her skin and the wind pushed into her face. Glancing up, she thought she got a glimpse of the owl that was Haarn, but it was gone so quickly she couldn't be sure. She clung to the bear, feeling the huge muscles bunch beneath her. Please, Tymora, she prayed silently. Please let me arrive in time.