A woman in the crowd screamed and fainted. People tripped and fell over her in their rush to get away. Kall found a gap and jumped onto the dais, his sword raised.

"Laerin!" he shouted.

The half-elf appeared below him, lifting the senseless guest over his shoulder. Morgan stood across the room, herding the crowd to the exit. "We'll get 'em out," Morgan assured Kall. "Cesira's coming."

"Find Dantane!" Kall's gaze remained fixed on the grim transformation unfolding on the dais.

The lute player's flesh rippled and shimmered like a heat mirage, her form lengthening and filling out into that of a young man with shoulder-length brown hair and finely tailored clothing. Kall could not tell his identity, for the black blemish remained on his face and continued to spread, exploding up from the flesh of his arms, legs, and torso as boils and bleeding wounds. He seemed to be filling up everywhere, and the strange, oozing black substance had nowhere to go but through his skin and vital organs.

The thing that had been human lurched up to its legs and swiped with a too-long arm at Kall's face. Kall raised his sword and felt the blade sink into the ooze. The creature howled and pulled back, leaving a trail of black gore that sizzled into the wooden platform.

"Tarshz mephran!" came a shout from the balcony, and a spray of electricity yanked the hairs on Kall's arms. Bolts of energy ripped into the creature, spraying black blood in all directions.

Kall jumped back, cursing as drops hit his exposed arm and burned.

Dantane climbed onto the balcony rail and floated to the ballroom floor, his robes flaring at the sleeves as his hands shaped another spell. He aimed the Art directly over Kall's head at the creature. Kall dived behind a harpsichord, pulling its heavy bench over onto its side as a shield when the spell erupted.

Bolts of ice burrowed from Dantane's palms, then streaked across the room to impale the oozing mass. Gore sprayed the bench, burning black pockmarks into the wood.

Kall rolled to his feet behind the creature. He hacked at it, the emerald sword finding flesh that was human and monster and sometimes a bizarre hybrid. The blade penetrated, and what was left of the lute player's voice rang out in screeches of pure agony.

A tentacled arm whipped out from where the woman's stomach had been, catching Kall in the midsection. The blow threw Kall back; he smelled melted leather. He fumbled at his armor buckles, flinching when he felt hands come around him from behind. Fingers pressed flush against the acidic burning.

"Get back!" roared Kall when he recognized Cesira's chanting voice. Damn her, the last thing he wanted was for her to be acid-seared while protecting him.

Steam rose in a cloud, hissing and stinging Kall's eyes, but the burning sensation eased. The druid touched the base of his neck, and Kall felt a faint, humming tingle spread across his skin. It lingered in his ears like the last thrum of a fading song. Silently, Cesira drew away to stand beside him.

You'll have protection from the acid, she told him, for a time. She cocked her head, listening to Dantane's chants, watching the measured release of power. Go now!

Trusting her, Kall charged in under another rain of bolts, but they seemed targeted only to the creature and sailed harmlessly around him. Tentacles burst at random from the creature's hips and groin—Kall hacked them off, forming a buffer for Dantane and Cesira.

"Kall!" Dantane's voice was thick with magic. "The root in its throat—carve it out. Destroy it!"

Kall risked a glance at the throng retreating from the ballroom. A few stragglers had stayed behind—Lord Rays among them—to watch the horrific spectacle.

Kall yelled to Cesira. "Don't let them see!" The last thing he wanted was for the merchants to witness him butchering the girl, even if she no longer resembled anything human. He waded into the mass of tentacles as the druid backed down the dais's steps, chanting a familiar spell and arching her arms above her head.

The air immediately grew thick and moist. Dense fog billowed from the portal of Cesira's arms, curling around the dais in a concealing bubble that hid Kall, Dantane, and the creature from view.

Behind the vapor wall, Kall wedged his sword in the harpsichord bench and grabbed blindly at the creature with his gloved hands, trusting Cesira's protective spell to hold long enough for him to finish his grim task. He punched into the thing's mouth and felt teeth and tongue give way with a wet crunch.

Kall fought down a rush of bile. Whatever shape it took now, the thing still had a woman's head, and Kall had just rendered it a ruin. Steeling himself, he bore down, ignoring the choking and mewling sounds coming from the monster. When his hand met an obstruction, Kall didn't allow himself to think. He yanked the mass of mud and root straight up.