The Jewel of Turmish - Mel Odom [127]
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.