Denner Fabellian’s eyes fluttered open, but there was only darkness to see. For just a moment, while his mind struggled to wake up, his flawless memory was denied to him and he had no idea where he was. He tried to move, but his arms and legs were bound. His entire body was thoroughly immobilized. In the total darkness, panic began to set in. Denner had been so close to death for so long that he could only assume he was in his own coffin. He struggled, he squirmed, and even tried to scream, but his voice was stifled. Denner Fabellian was trapped, and he felt the world itself descending in to crush him.

As he struggled, he suddenly felt himself, as well as his confines, shifting and descending. He felt something heavy press down on him, and then begin to pull in quick fits. Denner panicked worse, still struggling to free himself, until finally a tiny shred of light began filtering in around his eyes. A few moments later, more light arrived, and then more, as Denner began to feel himself getting loose. Finally, the last gossamer threads were pulled away, and Denner could see, in the pale light of the intertwined moons, the lovely, dark, concerned face of Lady Nasina.

“Calm yourself, Denner,” Lady Nasina said hurriedly. “It is alright.”

Denner was breathing so heavily that his chest hurt. He looked around him, seeing only thick jungle vegetation surrounding him. He looked down, seeing the thick threads of spider webbing encasing him from the neck down. As he struggled to slow his breathing, his pristine memory slowly crept back to him. Lady Nasina kept speaking, her human face expressive even as her spider legs were working to release Denner.

“Do you know where you are, Denner?”

Denner nodded. “Oorkonde,” he said, feeling his brow break out in a sweat.

Nasina pulled the webbing away from Denner’s chest. The Delver noticed that the blotches from the poison were darker and larger than they were the last time he looked. The spider ‘walker smiled. “And do you remember why you are here?”

Denner looked at the web cocoon his arms and lower body were still stuck in. “If my memory serves, you thought it would be a good idea to hang me up to dry for a few days.”

Nasina laughed demurely as she freed Denner’s hands. “Do try to be a courteous guest, Denner Fabellian. If the accommodations I have prepared for you are not to your liking, please simply say so.”

With his now free hands, Denner starting to rub his sore neck. “I won’t say it’s the best bed I’ve ever slept in, but you do provide a once in a lifetime experience.”

Nasina’s expression turned serious as she ripped the remaining silk from Denner’s legs. “Your heart was beating far slower while you slept in my web. I have bought you three more days at least, and perhaps as much as a week.”

“I know,” Denner said, then refocused on her deep, black eyes. “Thank you, Lady Nasina.”

She bowed slightly at the waist. “You are welcome, Denner Fabellian.”

Denner struggled to sit up, and then looked at his hands. The veins in his wrists were visible, and a sickly purple color. They did not look so bad even when he had left Fisco Vane and Diana on Dammerdall, after reclaiming his blood sample from Cyrryc Adda. This thought brought Denner’s mind back into focus.

“Did you discover anything in my blood?”

Lady Nasina looked away from him, and did not speak.

Denner’s head dropped as he read her expression. “Nothing, huh?”

Nasina looked back, and forced a smile. “Not nothing, Denner.” She paused for a long moment. “But what I have found is not the best of news.”

Denner took a deep breath, and let it out with a sigh. “What did you learn?”

Nasina reached down with her human hand, and helped pull Denner to his feet. He was unsteady at first, but she helped to support him. “What you were told by the Snake was not a deception. The poison coursing through you is a magical blend of venoms, and, while I am loathe to express admiration for your poisoner, clearly she had exotic tastes.”

“Syl,” Denner said simply.

“Yes, I recall,” Nasina said. “Her poison is an amalgam of four natural, though exceedingly rare, poisons. The strongest of the four is from the Deviltail Scorpion. I studied them many years ago on a plane called Bizdrol. Unfortunately, they were hunted to extinction there. I do not know if they were known to any other plane.”

Denner closed his eyes, and delved. It was an ironic nuisance that the less unique a thing was, the harder it was for Denner to find. Had he been delving for a specific Deviltail Scorpion, one that had been described in detail or named, he would have found it almost immediately. Instead, it took more than a minute of effort before he felt that familiar click in his mind. When he opened his eyes, Lady Nasina was staring at him, confused. Denner smiled a weak smile.

“They exist somewhere. I can find them.”

“That would only be the beginning. The second poison is the venom of the Corsair Spider.”

Denner looked around Nasina’s home, a large circular valley in the jungles of Oorkande. Nasina has turned a massive segment of the jungle into a sort of refuge, where hundreds if not thousands of species of spiders lived with her, mostly sheltered from other predators.

“Do you, um, is there…”

Nasina hung her head. “I am sorry, Denner Fabellian. I have brought to this place all of the spiders I have managed to find in my travels. But sadly, I have never managed to find a Corsair Spider. They are an exceptionally rare breed of water spider, and so, even if I had found them, they would be unlikely to survive long on Oorkonde.”

Denner nodded as stoically as he could manage. “I’ll find them. What’s the third?”

“A Marsh Viper.”

“Really?” Denner said, confused and hopeful. “Those are actually pretty common, aren’t they?”

Lady Nasina looked away from him. “This venom is from a very uncommon breed. Legends speak of a marsh viper with scales of midnight, and the wings of the demons themselves. It is the Glide Viper, and in all my years, I have never seen one.”

“Then how did you recognize its venom?”

Nasina indicated toward the crude wooden table nearby. Atop the table were a variety of alchemical equipment, which Denner had seen before Nasina had wrapped him up in webbing. But unlike before, now nearly every spare inch of the table was covered in ancient tomes and scrolls. The spider ‘walker indicated toward a book in the center.

“An alchemist named Radlin Oviro on a plane called Lurg dedicated his life to studying them. Most considered him insane, and when he claimed to have isolated their venom, most dismissed his achievement. He was, after all, using techniques and terminology that were years, perhaps centuries, ahead of the rest of his plane. But what he described is precisely what I have seen in your blood, Denner.”

“Good,” Denner said. “I’ll travel to Lurg, then. I should be able to find a Glide Viper there.”

“I am afraid not, Denner. I had a similar thought several decades ago. Sadly, the plane of Lurg no longer exists.”

“What?” Denner said, disbelieving. “The whole plane…”

“Gone.” Nasina shook her head. “If you live long enough, eventually you will learn that all stories have an end, even those of entire planes.”

Denner ran a hand through his disheveled hair. “I’ll find it. I have to.” He sighed heavily. “What’s the fourth poison?”

Lady Nasina said nothing. After a long pause, Denner looked up at her, but she was looking away. In the corner of the eye he could see, the Delver noticed a tear forming.

“Lady Nasina…”

“I am sorry,” she interrupted immediately, her tone strained. “I have looked through every scrap of paper I have. I have scoured my notes, I have looked through the books and the scrolls, but there is nothing!” She stopped, hanging her head again. “I am so sorry, Denner Fabellian. I have no idea what the fourth poison is.”

For a long time, Denner was silent. When he spoke, his voice was broken, but genuine. “Thank you, Lady Nasina. Thank you for trying.”

“It was not enough,” she said. “The poison was mixed magically from the four venoms. The antidote must be mixed the same way, from all four antivenoms. Without the fourth poison, I cannot make you an antidote that will work.”

“I’ll find it,” Denner said, the forcefulness of his voice surprising even him. “I’ll get the other three, and then I’ll think of something.”

“We shall think of something, Denner Fabellian. I swear this to you. I will do what I can to help you continue your story. While you are gone, I will work on this final venom. Perhaps I missed something. Perhaps I can find it.”

“Thank you,” Denner said, then turned away. “I had better get started. I don’t think I have much time.”

“Take these,” Nasina said. Denner turned around to see the spider ‘walker holding out her hand. In it, there were three small spheres of tightly packed spider’s silk. “This is how I brought my children here,” she said, indicating toward the spiders surrounding them. “These will allow you to capture your quarries and bring them here, across the Eternal Web.”

Denner reached out and accepted the offering, slipping them into the pouch hanging from his belt. He looked up into her dark, tearful eyes, said one more thanks, and vanished into the darkness of the aether.

Lukas Harran sat on a long, flat stone at the base of a gnarled tree. The black gauntlet that protected his right hand was pressed against his forehead as he stared out across the vacant plains that stretched out in front of him. The tree under which he was sitting marked the beginning of the Mythmire, the stagnant fens Lukas had been searching for well over a month. He had found a coven of demons there that seemed like a promising lead, a possible clue to where he could find Gabrielle’s soulstone. But, like every other lead he had found, it resulted in nothing but a few more dead demons, and a few more steps along Lukas’s eternal search.

Lukas was growing tired. Each day, it seemed that his legs and arms grew weary just a little earlier than the day before. Each time one of his leads turned up nothing, he found himself just a little more despondent than the last time. He had been searching for her for so long that he had nearly forgotten what his life had been like before. Lukas closed his eyes. ‘Before’ was just too long ago. When his love, the angel Gabrielle, was still in his arms and the magic of the plains was his constant companion. It was growing difficult to remember those times. He wondered how long it would be before it was impossible.

As he sat there in silence, Lukas heard a slight sound that he couldn’t quite place. It sounded like movement in the water of the fens behind him, but the sound was so minute that he could not be sure. A moment later, there was a loud splash and then thrashing in the stagnant swamp water. Lukas’s eyes shot open and he spun around, dark mana surging through him. What he saw surprised him so much that he immediately let his magic drop away.

There, convulsing like a dying fish in the shallow water, was Denner Fabellian.

Lukas had neither seen nor heard from Denner since they and the rest of the planeswalkers had bid one another farewell at the Dual-Walkers’ tower on Anissem. This was far from surprising. Lukas and Denner had gotten along well enough, but they were hardly friends, and Denner had more pressing concerns than catching up with old acquaintances. From the look of the man now, it seemed as though his search for a cure to Syl’s poison was not going well.

With a start, Lukas realized that he was just watching Denner convulse face down in swamp water. With a shake of his head, Lukas moved to help him before he drowned. As he struggled to steady the shaking form of the planeswalker, Lukas silently cursed himself. There was a time when helping the poor man would have been his first thought. He didn’t like it that that no longer seemed to be the case.

It was a significant struggle, but eventually Lukas managed to drag Denner out of the swamp and prop him up on the stone Lukas had been sitting on. A moment or two later, Denner stopped convulsing, and was instead trying to catch his breath, one gaunt hand clenching his chest. When Denner seemed to have mostly recovered, Lukas spoke.

“Are you alright, Denner?”

“No,” Denner breathed. “But thank you.” He paused for a long time as he gathered himself. Once he had, he looked upward at Lukas. “I need your help.”

Lukas frowned. “Denner, I don’t…”

“Please, Lukas,” Denner said, struggling to stand. He slipped once and fell back to his knee, but stood again and moved over to Lukas. “Please. You know more about demons and devils than anyone I know, and you’re already on this plane.”

“Denner, what do demons have to do with anything?”

“The poison,” Denner said. He was wheezing now. “That poison of Syl’s. I’ve been trying to learn what it was made of.”

“And you think demons can tell you?” Lukas asked, momentarily angry. “Denner, I have seen far too much to allow you to make a deal with demons just to…”

“No, no,” Denner said, desperately grabbing at Lukas’s black armor. “No deals. Listen, I’ve found some help. But Syl’s poison, it’s four...” Denner broke off and descended into a coughing fit that nearly dropped him to the ground. When it passed, he looked back up at Lukas. “One of the venoms, Lukas, is from a creature here, on this plane. It’s called a Deviltail Scorpion.”

Lukas turned his head away and closed his eyes. “Denner, you don’t know what you’re asking.”

“I’m asking you to help save my life.”

“It could take months searching the Mythmire for one of those damned things, Denner, and even then, we’d have to find some way to subdue it, which I assure you, will not be easy. I’m sorry, Denner, but I really can’t afford to waste that much time yet again.”

“I can find one, Lukas, you know that. I just need your help with…”

“What do you mean, ‘I know that?’ What are you talking about?”

“I’m a Delver, remember? I can find anything! That’s how I found Morgezka, it’s how I found Daneera, it’s how I found you just now.”

Lukas’s world froze. It was as if everything stopped except for the blood in his veins, which seemed to be boiling. When he spoke, he was surprised that he was speaking through clenched teeth. “You can find anything? Anywhere?” Denner was still holding his armor at the collar, and Lukas found himself grabbing the Delver’s tunic likewise. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I thought you knew…” Denner managed.

Lukas tightened his grip. “No one told me. Why didn’t you tell me? Tell me where she is.”

“Where who is?” Denner asked, a tint of fear entering his eyes.

“Gabrielle. Where is she?” Lukas was raising his voice now, although he did not seem to notice.

“Who is Gabrielle?”

Lukas’s eyes flashed, and with all his strength, he pushed Denner backward, driving him hard into the gnarled tree. “She’s my love, Denner! My angel! Where is she? If you can find anything, you find her!”

Denner’s hands had moved from Lukas’s collar to his gauntleted wrists, but he lacked the strength to pull them away. “Lukas, I can’t…”

“You said you could find anything! If you want my help, Fabellian, then you help me first. Find Gabrielle’s soulstone, and I’ll help you find your scorpion.”

“Lukas,” Denner said, struggling against the other man’s grasp. “I would love to help you, but if I don’t get my cure, I’m going to di…”

Denner’s last word was garbled as Lukas moved his right hand away from Denner’s collar and around his neck. Lukas’s eyes narrowed as he started to squeeze. “Find her!”

Denner struggled to speak, but he was losing air too quickly. Lukas held him there for a few seconds before his eyes seemed to clear, and, in a horrifying revelation, Lukas realized what he had been doing. He relaxed his grip, first with his right hand around the Delver’s neck, and then with his left hand holding Denner’s tunic. The Delver looked up at Lukas with terrified eyes, and Lukas stared back with the same.

“I’m sorry,” Lukas whispered, pulling his hands away. He took one big step back and looked down at his hands. “Angels’ love, Denner, I’m so sorry.”

Denner was rubbing his throat as he stared, but Lukas turned away and walked past the Delver, approaching the knee-high grass of the plains beyond the Mythmire. Without another word, Lukas knelt down just in front of the grass. He could see the division between the fens and the plains as though they were separated by a wall. He was kneeling on the Mythmire side, but he reached out, caressing the top of the grass as if it were Gabrielle’s golden hair from so long ago.

“What the hell have I become?” He asked aloud. In his mind, he could see Gabrielle’s face. He often imagined her face looking back at him, her flawless skin, her immaculate eyes, everything he remembered about her and more watching him. But this time, there was no smile on her angelic lips. They were curled downward in a disapproving frown, and in her eyes there was disappointment, and condemnation. Lukas had no answer to his own question of what he had become, no answer apart from something Gabrielle would never have loved.

Lukas did not know how long he stared at the ground in front of him, but eventually, he felt Denner Fabellian lay a hand on his shoulder. Lukas slumped a bit, but Denner spoke to him, his voice barely audible.

“I understand. I know what pain can do to a man.”

Lukas looked over and up at the Delver. “That is no excuse, Denner. I am truly sorry.”

“I know. And Lukas, I promise, if I live through this, I will help you. But I will die if I don’t find an antidote, and fast.”

Lukas looked back at the ground in front of him. “I’ve been searching for so long, Denner. Searching through the darkness. This vile mana, these shadows in my mind, in my soul…” Lukas stopped, clenching his fists. “I know that once I find her, I can be free of it. I know that. I believe it.” He stopped again, then looked back at Denner. “I’ll help you, Denner, regardless of your answer, but, please just tell me. Do you truly believe that you can find her?”

Denner nodded. “If she still exists, I can find her.”

“Do you think she does?”

“I know she does,” Denner said simply. “I would need to concentrate to find her, but I can feel her soulstone even now, just from you mentioning it.”

Suddenly, Lukas was on his feet again. He put both hands on Denners shoulders and gave him a soft, friendly shake. “Thank you, Denner. That’s more hope than I’ve had in years.” He looked to the side, toward the Mythmire. Then he nodded. “Let’s find your scorpion.”

Lukas and Denner barely spoke to one another as they trudged through the swamp. The Delver was busy focusing on his target and fighting his fits of pain to pay much attention to Lukas, and Lukas was far too distracted with his own thoughts. On one hand, he found himself thinking of Gabrielle. If Denner could truly find anything, anywhere in the Multiverse, it was by a wide margin the best chance Lukas had ever had of finding her soulstone. On the other hand, though, he had nearly killed Denner in a fit of anger, something he would have never done before.

Something was wrong, and Lukas didn’t like it.

Lukas Harran found himself thinking back to the events surrounding Syl and Chardis and their exploits on Arbagoth and the Wheel. The revelation of Denner’s ability made a lot of things make sense that Lukas simply hadn’t thought about at the time. Denner had admitted to Fisco Vane when they had all first met the Shark that the Dual-Walkers had hired Denner to find him, but Lukas had not known just what that meant. Fisco had hinted that Denner must have been hired to find Daneera, as well, but still, that could easily have been more mundane than the Delver’s ability.

Finding Morgezka Shanak suddenly made a lot more sense, as well. When the planeswalkers had first met on Arbagoth and decided to hunt down Syl and Chardis, the siren Penelophine had suggested going to the dragon Morgezka for help. Lukas and Kahr-ret-Taris had stayed on Arbagoth to destroy the remaining planar barges, so he had never known how they had found her. He had merely assumed that Penelophine, who clearly knew the dragon personally, had known where she lived. Now, though, he guessed that Denner had led them there.

Silently, Lukas cursed himself for not piecing it together at the time, but how could he have? Who could possibly have guessed that a man existed who could find literally anything in the Multiverse? He knew that Denner had a flawless memory and lackluster social skills. The Delver had demonstrated both of those qualities several times. But usually, when they were looking for something, they were following Daneera, not Denner. There was no way Lukas could have known.

He wondered suddenly if Kahr had known. Kahr knew perfectly well that Lukas was searching for Gabrielle’s soulstone. He had even mentioned it when they had parted ways. Had the Pharaoh known about Denner’s ability, and intentionally refused to say something? They were friends, Kahr and Lukas, but Kahr had always been the self-centered kind. It was possible that the large man had kept it from Lukas, perhaps out of jealousy, or spite. The thought left a sour taste in Lukas’s mouth.

And what about the others? Daneera surely must have known what Denner could do. Did Penelophine? Probably. Morgezka? Possibly. Of course, Lukas had not spent much time conversing with either of them. Penelophine spent most of her time alone, typically conversing only with Daneera, and then only when it was necessary. Morgezka was equally aloof, although none of them had particularly wanted to approach the dragon for fear of her reaction. Had Fisco known? Very likely, although he wouldn’t have shared that information with Lukas, anyway. Unless it was for the right price, of course.

The only one that left was Antine. Had Antine known? The poor, frightened foxfolk who hadn’t even known what planeswalking was when Lukas met him. Antine had called Lukas his first friend, the first person to ever show him genuine kindness, and the first living being to reach out to him after his Spark ignited. Antine had gone with the others to Ryxe to recruit Morgezka Shanak, so surely, he must have known how they found her. Had Antine kept this secret from Lukas, just like the others? Had all seven of them conspired to keep Gabrielle away from him?

Suddenly, Lukas noticed that his hands were clenched tightly into fists, and his fingers were becoming sore inside his gauntlets. Lukas forced himself to calm down, and relaxed his hands. Denner was walking a few paces ahead, trying vainly to maintain his footing on the muddy ground. The Delver looked so small as he pressed on, so weak. Lukas shook his head, forcing the unwanted thoughts out of his head. There had been no conspiracy between those who had gathered to avenge Arbagoth. Nothing had been done to Lukas. He was simply being paranoid.

Somehow, that thought was not a comfort. He had never been the paranoid type before. He had dealt with demons for far too long to be completely trusting, of course, but he knew better than to assume everyone was out to get him. The Multiverse was far too large to care one way or another about Lukas and his search. Existence was, ultimately, disinterested. Lukas caught himself before his fists could clench again. Somehow, that thought did nothing to cheer him, either.

Lukas and Denner continued throughout the day deeper and deeper into the Mythmire. They had to stop frequently for a variety of reasons. Denner lapsed into convulsions three more times as they continued on, each one seeming worse than the last. Even when the Delver wasn’t flailing in the mud in abject pain, he was breathing heavily and coughing, and needed numerous rests. Lukas counted them both lucky that Denner’s Delver sense was leading them away from the semblances of civilization that lived in the fens.

Their journey was also delayed because apparently, while Denner’s sense told him where his target was, it did not reveal to him the quickest way to get there. The two planeswalkers spent nearly three hours traversing through a particularly rough patch of swampland that could have been easily circumvented in one. Several times throughout the walk, Lukas found himself annoyed by his companion, but not in the way he had been after Arbagoth. Then, when they were going after Syl and Chardis, Denner had been talkative to the point of absurdity, and it had annoyed all of them to varying degrees. But now, Denner was perpetually silent, and it was his illness that Lukas found annoying. And every time he did, Lukas felt ashamed.

Once darkness fell, it became clear that they needed to stop for the night, despite both of them wanting to press onward. Denner was drenched in swamp water, mud, and sweat, and he could barely keep his feet under him. When Lukas finally called to him to get him to stop, he saw that the Delver’s eyes were unfocused, and could barely stay open. They ate a quick and lean meal, Lukas summoned his best-behaved imps to guard the camp, and they both tried to get to sleep. Denner passed out in moments. Lukas, however, fought for sleep like it were a battle, and though losses were heavy, he eventually won.

Lukas’s sleep was fitful and restless. His dreams were not kind to him. They were filled with images of his life before losing Gabrielle, but those images were distorted, distended, and stained. He saw his father’s house, the cathedral where he worshipped and studied, the stronghold where he had served, all dripping with the blood of angels and demons. He saw the faces of his mother, his brother, and even Gabrielle herself, mutilated and twisted by evil hands. And he saw himself, holding Gabrielle’s soulstone in his hand as he had never yet been able to do, and crushing it to dust with one gauntleted hand.

Lukas Harran woke with a jolt, his breathing heavy and his eyes unfocused. He looked to his left to see Denner sitting with his back to a moss-covered stone, staring at him. The Delver’s eyes were sorrowful. Lukas forced himself up to a seated position and stared back. It was not yet daybreak. Denner looked away from Lukas and spoke, his voice barely a whisper.

“Tell me about her.”

For a moment, Lukas’s eyes flashed with anger. He remembered Denner’s obsession with beautiful women. “Why do you want to know?”

Denner shook his head slightly. “I don’t.” Lukas’s brow furrowed, confused. “But I thought you might want to talk about her.”

Lukas’s expression softened. After a moment, he nodded, and he began to tell Denner everything about his angel. He spoke of how they had met, and how they had fallen in love. He spoke of her beauty, her goodness, her light. He spoke of how he had felt complete when she was with him, and how he had felt less so when she wasn’t. He spoke of the day she was taken from him, and his search for her, and the sacrifices he had made to bring her some peace. He spoke of the darkness he felt now that she was gone, and spoke of the light she would bring back when she was found. He spoke with passion, with hope, and, for the first time in a very long time, with joy.

He spoke until the sun came up, and he was surprised how bright and clean the Mythmire looked in the dawn. He was equally surprised to find his summoned imps sitting on a half-submerged log nearby, listening to his story with rapt attention. Denner hadn’t looked at him once during the entire story, but nodded every so often, and once Lukas stopped speaking, the two planeswalkers sat in silence for a long moment before Denner spoke, his voice still low and soft.

“You’re a lucky man, Lukas.”

“How so?”

Denner braced himself, and strained to stand. “I’ve never had a light in my life,” he paused, looking back at Lukas purposefully, “that I lit back.”

Lukas stared openmouthed at the Delver for a long moment before closing his mouth, looking away, and nodding. “You’re a smarter man than I gave you credit for, Denner.” Lukas climbed to his feet. “And a better one.”

Denner’s eyes were downcast, and he said nothing.

Lukas approached him and clapped him lightly on the shoulder. “Come on. Let’s go find your cure.”

“One fourth of it, anyway,” Denner said, then tossed his head to one side. “It’s close now. It’s been moving this way for a couple of hours.”

Lukas nodded. “Then let’s not keep it waiting.”

They didn’t. Inside of two hours, they found the Deviltail Scorpion feeding on the carcass of a large badger on a small patch of dry ground. They slowed to a glacial pace as they approached it. Lukas kept one arm out in front of Denner’s chest, as if to physically hold the Delver back. Denner didn’t need to be told. The scorpion was gigantic, at least as long as Denner’s torso. Its prey was still thrashing around on the grass as the scorpion feasted.

Denner had seen numerous scorpions before, and had read detailed descriptions of many more during his life, and he had a vivid picture of what they should look like. And, for the most part, the Deviltail Scorpion fit that description. From the tips of its massive pedipalps to the base of its tail, it resembled most other scorpions. It was heavily plated with an exoskeleton of deep red chitin, which looked like ample protection for its legs and body.

What made it different from any other scorpion Denner had ever seen or heard of, however, was its namesake tail. The tail, unlike with other scorpions, was neither plated nor segmented. Instead, it was a long, curving tail that seemed covered in red scales, and whipped back and forth as the scorpion fed. The end of the tail came to a point that resembled an arrowhead, and even from the distance he was standing, Denner could see the tip dripping with both venom from within, and the badger’s blood from without.

“Stay well back,” Lukas warned in a harsh whisper. “That tail can strike from any direction with as much accuracy as if the scorpion were looking right at you.”

Denner nodded. “What do we do?”

Lukas frowned but did not answer. He looked around the immediate area, but did not seem to find anything he wanted to see. “I’m not much of a hunter, and I usually prefer to avoid these things completely.”

“So would I, if I had a choice.”

Lukas glanced over at Denner, but only for an instant before he returned his focus to the predator in front of them. Lukas Harran simply nodded as he tried to think of something, anything, they could do to subdue the creature.

“How dangerous would you say they are?”

Lukas shrugged. “I doubt that badger ever knew the scorpion was here.” Lukas’s eyes widened a bit. “Come to think of it, we’d better be careful. There could be more than one around.”

Denner gulped audibly. “How can we know?”

Lukas glanced around, frowning. “Keep an eye on that one. If it moves towards us, yell.”

Denner nodded, and Lukas closed his eyes, drawing in mana from the surrounding fens, scowling a bit as he did. After a moment, though, several small imps appeared around him in an uneven circle. They were a different breed than those he had used as guards the night before. They were a little larger than the others had been, and as soon as they materialized, they immediately began to pull and tug at one another, as if each one were trying to be the most irritating of the bunch. With a surge of will and dark mana, Lukas brought them under control and sent them out to keep watch for other scorpions.

Once Lukas focused his attention back on the Deviltail, Denner spoke. “Are you going to use those imps to capture that thing?”

But Lukas shook his head. “That would be a tremendous waste of imps. That thing would kill them all in seconds.”

Denner seemed to consider this. “Well, what if I distracted it with an illusion?”

“It wouldn’t help.”

“My illusions are quite good, you know.”

“I know,” Lukas said, remembering well the battle of Axe Blade Ridge. Then he shrugged. “Try it if you want.”

Denner concentrated, conjuring an image of himself walking toward the scorpion from the other side. The Deviltail stopped its feeding the moment the illusion appeared, and the scorpion dropped into a predatory stance and faced the illusionary Delver. Once it was clear that the scorpion’s attention was devoted entirely to the illusion, Lukas Harran reached down to the ground and picked up a small rock less than half the size of his palm. He glanced meaningfully at Denner, then tossed the rock at the scorpion. Instantly, the scorpion’s tail darted out and struck the rock, shattering it and leaving a small puff of venom in the air. The scorpion’s body never moved as it continued to stare down the false Denner.

The Delver stared in silence as he allowed the illusion to fade. The Deviltail scorpion adjusted itself one direction and then another as if looking for the interloper, but eventually gave up and returned to the badger’s corpse to resume its meal. Denner looked over at Lukas, who was staring intently at the creature.

“Can it always do that?” Denner asked.

Lukas nodded. “I came across two Deviltails about a month or so ago. They were mating. As they were, they upset a quail nest in a nearby bush, and nearly a dozen quail burst out, some running, some trying to fly. The Deviltails killed every single one of them without so much as disengaging from one another. I’m honestly not convinced they did it intentionally. Those tails seem to have a mind of their own.”

“Hmm,” Denner said. Then, before he even realized what he was doing, he reached into his pouch and removed one of the small spheres of spider silk that Lady Nasina had given him. Lukas was about to ask him what it was when the Delver simply threw it at the scorpion. Without looking up from its meal, the Deviltail Scorpion struck the small object, but unlike the rock, it did not shatter. Instead, it seemed to grab on to the creature’s tail. Instantly, the spider’s silk began to expand like a web down the length of the tail.

The two planeswalkers watched in puzzled fascination as the scorpion began to panic, bounding away from the dead badger as its entire body was enveloped in the magical silk. First its tail was covered, and then the lower half of its body, and its legs. The Deviltail scorpion gave a panicked screech and clawed at the ground with its pedipalps, but it could only struggle for a few fleeting seconds before it was completely covered and it stopped moving altogether.

Lukas looked over at Denner in shock, but the Delver was wearing the same sort of expression. “I didn’t think that would work,” Denner said. “I didn’t think it would be that easy.”

Lukas shrugged, shook his head a bit, and chuckled. Then, both planeswalkers broke their cover and moved over toward the encased scorpion. The creature was motionless, but both Lukas and Denner approached slowly and cautiously, both visualizing the scorpion bursting free and striking at them the moment they came into range. Mercifully, it did not, and they were soon standing over their prize. Denner reached down, tentatively, and touched the webbing about halfway along the scorpion’s back. He felt no movement within, and he breathed an audible sigh of relief.

A sudden pained yelp made both planeswalkers jump. Denner looked around, confused, while Lukas’s face drained of color. He looked back at the Delver, fear in his eyes. “The imps!”

Another scream in the grass sounded, and then another, and then a third. Quickly, Lukas released his hold on the rest of the imps, allowing them to drift back through the aether to their home plane. A few moments later, a second Deviltail Scorpion broke through the grass toward them, moving slowly. As the planeswalkers watched it approach, they spotted yet another one come from their right, and then another and another. The scorpions had them surrounded.

Denner hung his head. “Nothing’s ever that easy.”

“Denner, you need to get the hell out of here.”

“But, what about you?”

Lukas didn’t say anything for a long moment as the scorpions began to close the circle. “I have a demon or two that can get me out of this, but you don’t have that kind of time.”

“But…”

“Go!” Lukas said, angry. “You haven’t convulsed yet today. If you do it now, you’re a dead man. Get out of here. Take the scorpion with you. Find your cure.”

Denner knelt down and grabbed the cocooned scorpion with both hands. “If I live, Lukas, I’ll find you again. And we’ll find Gabrielle. I promise.”

“Then you’d better get on your way.”

Denner nodded and, knowing that Lukas was right, ‘walked away, dragging the scorpion along with him. Lukas frowned. He had never been fast at planeswalking. His method had always required more focus than other ‘walkers he had met, more time. He couldn’t deny the fact that he was a bit envious of those who seemed to be able to do it by reflex. It certainly afforded them the opportunity to get themselves out of trouble in situations like this. They seemed to be able to close their eyes and latch onto the light of some safer plane. But Lukas, as always, was forced to tread a darker path.

Reaching into the black depths of the Mythmire around him, Lukas gathered his mana and searched through his mental catalog of imps, devils, and demons for those powerful and fast enough to save his life. He found them quickly, sensing their eagerness to kill even above their disdain for obeying Lukas. The scorpions were drawing close now, and Lukas had no more time to consider his options, or his actions. Demons congealed into being all around him and moved like death on their prey, tearing the Deviltail Scorpions apart before their tails could even move.

In the darkness of Lukas Harran’s mind, he heard the low rumblings of demonic laughter, and he prayed silently that it was not his own.

Denner Fabellian materialized into the jungles of Oorkonde and immediately collapsed to the ground, his entire body convulsing in indescribable pain. Planeswalking was difficult in the best of circumstances, but these days, it always seemed to trigger an attack. There was nothing Denner could do about it but ‘walk and try to survive the consequences. Right now, though, Denner was not thinking about that. Right now, Denner was struggling to think about anything other than the pain.

After a few short moments of his convulsion, Lady Nasina was there, applying a cool rag to Denner’s forehead and speaking to him in a soothing voice, although Denner could not make out her words over the pain. He did not know how long he was there, shaking in Nasina’s arms, but eventually, the pain subsided. Mercifully, Denner was able to remain conscious.

Once the Delver had recovered enough to speak, he thanked Lady Nasina, who nodded. The spider ‘walker indicated down toward the spider web bundle that had made the journey with him. She smiled.

“I see you were successful.”

Denner nodded, his neck sore from the spasm. “I got lucky. A friend of mine was already on the plane. Without him…I hope he’s alright.”

Lady Nasina stared at Denner for a long time. “You are a good man, Denner Fabellian.”

Denner looked back at her, but said nothing.

“But there is still much for you to do, and your time, I fear, is short. What will you do now?”

Denner looked down at his hands. They were shaking, so he clenched them into fists. “I’ll keep going. I’m going to look for the Corsair Spider next.”

“Be careful, Denner,” Lady Nasina warned. “I will remain here, and create an antivenom from the Deviltail Scorpion.”

Denner nodded, said his thanks, and vanished.

Lady Nasina stared after him, tears welling in her black eyes. She had not slept since he had left, searching relentlessly for the identity of the fourth poison. She had failed. It was nothing she knew of, nothing she could identify. Denner Fabellian was searching through darkness for a cure, but each step brought him closer to death, and Lady Nasina, for all that she wished otherwise, could see no light shining on the end of his tale. She had heard and hoarded countless stories over her life, but this one, more than almost any other, seemed destined for a tragic ending.