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Look at the bastard Not a falter in his step Not a blink at his fate Who -- what are these soldiers?
Mallet pushed Mulch aside, knelt next to Trotts, met the warrior’s hard eyes and reached out a hand
’Mallet!’ Mulch hissed ’Your warren-’
’Shut up,’ Mallet said, eyes closing as his fingers touched the collapsed, led throat
He opened his warren, and his mind shrieked as virulent power rushed into hi, heard the blood spurt and Mulch’s shocked cry Then the physical world vanished within a thrashing sea of pain
Find the path, daods! Stay sane, Healer Hold on
But he felt his sanity being torn away, devoured His sense of self was being shredded to pieces before hisHe drew on that core of health within his own soul, drew on its power, felt it pour through his fingertips to the ravaged cartilage of Trotts’s throat But the core began to dissolve …
Hands grasped hiled, tried to pull away Screa destroyed Hands fell away froed, his , clawing hands
Sudden cal in a fetid pool, shrouded in silence Then aarose all around him He looked up
Take fro unison Take our power Return to your place, and use all that we give to you But hurry -- the path we have laid is a costly one -- so costly
Mallet opened hi around him He had no choice, he was helpless before its demand His limbs, his body, felt like wet clay, moulded anew Fro reassean walking A luround was underfoot He did not look down, sie and deadly, yet held back from him Unable to reclaim his soul, the poison howled
Mallet could feel his fingers once ainst the broken throat of his friend, yet within his mind he still walked Step by step, inexorably pushed onward This is the journey to my flesh Who has done this for an to dim around him He was almost home Mallet looked down, to see what he kneould see He walked a carpet of corpses -- his path through the poisoned horror of his warren Costly -- so costly …
The healer’s eyes blinked open Bruised skin beneath his fingers, yet no aze
Two paths, it seehast weakly lifted his right arrip ’You’re back,’ the healer whispered, ’you shark-toothed bastard’
’Who?’ Trotts croaked, the skin around his eyes tightening at the effort ’Who paid?’
Mallet shook his head ’I don’t know Not hast’s eyes flicked down to the split and bleeding flesh of the healer’s arain ’Not me, Trotts’
Paran could not move, dared not approach closer All he could see was a huddle of soldiers around where Trotts lay and Mallet knelt Gods forgive me, I ordered that healer to kill himself If this is the true face of corin I want none of it No more, Paran, you cannot steel yourself to this life, to these choices Who are you to balance lives? To gauge worth, to htmare I’m done with it