The female morkoth held him as if in a lover's embrace. The appendage pulsed as it began laying her eggs, scattering them among his internal organs. Flyys tried to fight against it in vain. He gazed into the female morkoth's black eyes, almost hypnotized, and watched as they dimmed, watched as life left it.

When all of the eggs were laid, the female morkoth fell backward, dead before she hit the deck. The appendage wrenched free of Flyys.

Filled with horror, the young triton gazed down at his wound. As he watched, it closed up and sealed, healing instantly as the final part of the cycle pumped into him. After all, it wouldn't do to have a host body die or become infected before the eggs could hatch.

"Get rid of it," Vurgrom commanded.

Reluctantly, his men came forward. They grabbed the dead female morkoth and heaved it over the railing. The splash barely carried above the ship's creaks and the sails snapping overhead.

Khorrch peered into Flyys's eyes. "You've been given a great gift, longmane."

"You've killed me," the young triton whispered hoarsely.

"Mayhap," the morkoth mage admitted. "Even should you live after the young hatch inside you and eat their way free, you would only be reimplanted with eggs or killed outright."

Flyys knew it was true. The morkoth young would feed on his flesh and tear their way out of his body. Even if he could get free of the morkoth, he knew of no spells or mendicants that would kill the morkoth young and let him live. Still, if he could get free, he might survive their birthing.

"You may know where the Taker's Eye is," the young triton said, "but you'll never get it."

"The Taker will."