Poison.

The creature muttered arcane words under its breath-another spell. Where in the Abyss was Jarial? She let the daggers fly before the naga could finish his incantation.

The evil serpent howled in rage as the weapons drove into his flesh less than a foot from his head. Thick brown blood welled from the wounds. He twisted around to glare at her, fangs bared, yellow eyes blazing with pain and fury. "Don't you know that snakes eat little birds?" he hissed.

"Not this one." Kestrel managed to sound more confident than she felt.

Preybelish uttered a string of incomprehensible syllables, weaving another spell. Corran swung his sword again, this time striking the creature with full force. The naga, however, would not allow his concentration to be broken. He stared unblinking at Kestrel as his voice rose in pitch.

Her heart hammered in her chest as she tensed in anticipation of the inevitable sorcery. Would flames consume her, as they had Ghleanna?

Suddenly, an arrow materialized behind Preybelish and raced through the air to embed itself in the back of the creature's head. The acrid odor of burning flesh filled the room as acid ate through the naga's skin. Just feet away, Jarial appeared.

The naga screamed in rage, swinging his tail wildly. The barbed point caught Jarial's legs, knocking him down. Kestrel swore under her breath. Not Jarial too? Now two of their party were poisoned and a third badly burned.

Preybelish turned on Corran. "Don't even think about it," the creature said before the paladin so much as lifted his arm for the intended strike. The naga swung his tail once again, knocking Corran's sword out of his grasp.

Kestrel's mind raced. If they could only control that tail

"Catch a naga by the tail?" Preybelish mocked, twisting around to fix her with his evil gaze. "What would you do once you got your hands on it?"

Behind the naga, to Kestrel's surprise, Jarial got back to his feet. The mage appeared winded but hardly scratched. She forced her thoughts away from the wizard, so as not to betray him to Preybelish's mind-reading powers.

"This!" Jarial said. He darted out his hand and touched creature's tail just below the barbed tip. The contact lasted only a split second, but it was long enough. Preybelish screeched inhumanly as the last quarter of his body went rigid and fell immobile to the ground.

The naga bared his fangs and spun his upper body to advance on Jarial, still possessing enough unparalyzed coils to reach the unarmored mage. Corran went for his warhammer but Kestrel was faster.

She leaped onto Preybelish's back, grabbed one of the many chains hanging from his neck, and twisted. When the chain closed around the creature's airway, she pulled hard. "Did you say you collect neckwear, Preybelish?"

Despite her effort, the naga managed to get enough air to begin hissing out the words of a final spell.

She braced her feet against the naga's spine and tugged with all her might "Chokers, right?" Preybelish thrashed about so wildly that she had trouble retaining her grip. Corran hurried over to lend his strength. With the paladin's added power, the evil creature's eyes grew wide, his words of incantation becoming desperate gurgles as he fought to breathe. Kestrel threw her whole body into one final tug.

"Choke on this."

Fortunately, the naga's poison did not prove lethal. Durwyn awoke from his drugged sleep just as Preybelish entered his final one. Within a quarter hour the warrior seemed none the worse for the battle, save the easily bandaged wound on his neck.

Ghleanna, however, was another story. She lay unconscious and badly burned on one side of her body.

Kestrel paled just looking at the injured mage. "How many of those blueglow moss potions do we have left?"

"Let me tend to her first," Corran said. He knelt at her side, removing his helm and gauntlets. Gently, he touched his hands to Ghleanna's damaged skin, closed his eyes, and bowed his head in prayer. Ever so slowly, as the paladin murmured words of supplication to Tyr, the half-elf's charred tissue healed.

Kestrel turned away. When Corran had repelled the zombies, she'd felt that his showy theatrics were meant to draw attention. Now, watching him lay on hands, she grew uncomfortable. His features and manner softened-the arrogance, the bossiness, the presumption were all set aside as he ministered to their injured companion. The sight deeply unsettled her. It revealed a side of Corran D'Arcey she did not wish to acknowledge.

Jarial approached, carrying Ozama's cloak. "I thought Ghleanna could use this," he said.

"I'm sure she'll appreciate it." Kestrel glanced at the woman rendered so vulnerable by the same magic she herself wielded. Corran still had a lot of healing to do. She turned back to Jarial and gestured toward Preybelish's treasure. "Let's leave them in peace and find that Wizard's Torc."

He regarded the naga's hoard reluctantly. "It doesn't seem important anymore. Certainly not worth the lives it cost-and almost cost." His lips formed a rueful smile. "Sixteen years trapped in a boulder has a tendency to alter one's perspective."

Kestrel could scarcely believe her ears. After all he'd been through, how could he not want the prize? "You're right-your lady did sacrifice her life in pursuit of the torc. Don't you think you owe it to her to retrieve it now that you have the opportunity?" Besides, it sounded valuable-if he didn't take it, she would.

A spark of interest returned to his eyes. "I suppose we should at least see if it's here."

By the time they emerged from the naga's lair with the magical necklace in hand, Ghleanna was up and around. Corran had done as much healing as was in his power, and one of the remaining blueglow moss potions had done the rest. Both she and the paladin appeared drained, however. The group elected to sleep a while in the relative safety of Preybelish's den, gnawing hungrily on dried provisions and taking turns keeping watch.

Their strength restored, they left the complex and returned to the maze of corridors. Eventually, they came upon a stairway leading up.

"Finally," Kestrel muttered. "I was beginning to think we'd never get out of this place."

"Don't start looking for the sun yet," Jarial said. "There are two dungeon levels built into the hill, so we have another stairway to locate after this one."

At least they were moving in the right direction. Kestrel nearly sprinted up the steps in her eagerness to make more progress exiting these tomblike corridors. She slowed, however, at the top of the stairs.

Light spilled out of a room about thirty yards down the passage. A grid of shadows on the floor revealed it was a prison cell with a door of wrought-iron bars. From within, a harsh male voice bellowed questions at someone whose replies Kestrel couldn't hear.

"Just give up the damn word, you cretin! We'll learn it eventually anyway!" The smack of someone being struck echoed off the stone walls. "Tell me what you know or I'll feed you to my master for supper."

The explorers exchanged glances. "Someone should sneak ahead and see what's going on," Corran said. Kestrel sighed. Given everyone else's skills at stealth, no doubt "someone" meant her.

She left the group hidden from sight in the stairwell and crept along the passage, keeping to the shadows as she neared the barred doorway. Though she moved silently, the interrogator spoke loudly enough that even Durwyn could have approached unheard.

Inside, a warrior sat on the floor. He was a sturdy young man, no older than twenty, dressed in brown leather armor. His wrists and ankles were bound to one wall with chains. Six skeletons, armed with short swords as those downstairs had been, stood at attention on one side of the cell. It was the room's other occupant who made Kestrel suck in her bream.