52
Lincoln
Tar-covered branches tear through the roof of the feasting hall. Chunks of stone break loose and tumble down, smashing up plates and snapping apart tables.
“What kind of monster is this?” cries Salientian.
A newly formed hole yawns in the rock ceiling. More branches curl out from the opening, spreading out across the rock like so many arms. A voice echoes out of the darkness.
“I am the wizard Contagion!”
Salientian rounds on me and Myla. “A tar monster is invading. You’ve brought this creature upon us.”
Myla points to the ceiling. “Hey, the thing already said it’s name. The Contagion. Con. Tag. Ion.”
Salientian slaps his webbed hands atop his skull. “We have been betrayed!”
Fresh chunks of stone drop to the floor. The tar-covered branches reach out farther.
“Everyone,”
