Page 74

You duck and cover your arms and head, keeping as much of you inside your armor as possible. In a moment, the storm of darts is over, and you've felt only pinpricks as they passed. Inspired by your success at enduring this attack, the three of you spring up, ready to try again.

"Water is the element that opposes fire," Merlyn says breathlessly. "Deke, if you throw your fumball at the same time as I send my waterspell, it may be enough to overwhelm him!"

"It's worth a shot," Deke agrees, smacking his fumball, which he'd retrieved from a corner of the room, into his palm. The ball's face looks quite unhappy.

Merlyn begins her spell. Deke raises his fumball, his arm cocked and ready, waiting for the exact moment when her incantation is complete.

"Now!" Merlyn shouts, as she releases her spell, and Deke throws his fumball. For a second you can no longer see the sorceror at all, only a flash of light and a massive splash of water. A feeble flame spell from the sorceror fizzles off some of the water, but the effort is too little, and too late. The sorceror falls to the ground, defeated.

Merlyn casts a waterspell around him to extinguish some of the flames, and the three of you walk over to him. At first you worry that there is one last spell left in him, but as you get closer you lose that fear. He is bleeding from a dozen wounds, and what of his flesh isn't bleeding is charred from his own flames. He is dressed entirely in red, though that does little to hide the blood. His hair is bright red, too. Through the gore it is impossible to tell how old he might be.

And as you approach, he says the last thing you expect to hear. "Thank you."

You exchange a glance with Deke, both equally confused.

"It is better this way," the man continues, his chest painfully rising and falling.

Inexplicably, you feel a wave of sympathy for the sorcerer, despite the fact that a moment ago he was laughing as he attempted to kill you. You raise your sword.

"If you'd like, I can end this for you," you offer.

"S'all right," the sorcerer murmurs without moving. "I can do it."

Merlyn, still breathing heavily from the battle, kneels down next to him. "What is your name?" she asks.

For the first time since his defeat the man opens his eyes. They are green. "Well, don't get attached to me now," he tells her.

"You're a sorcerer of Vulkaro, aren't you?" Merlyn asks.

"Not quite." He takes a ragged breath. "Not quite a sorcerer yet. My pilgrimage is...near complete. I was heading south into...Vulkare..."

"I will heal you," Merlyn decides quickly, standing.

"No," says the man. "Let me die."

You look around at the flaming, crumbling building. Heal him? you think. "Um, Merlyn, is that a dumb idea?"

"He won't do it again," she promises. "It was just a bout of temporary insanity. The transformation is over, now."

"Transformation?"

Merlyn sighs. "When a person is chosen to become a sorcerer, there is usually one god to whom they are closest. This god becomes their main guide, and their power is strongest with that god's element. My guiding god is Kalyro, the god of this land. That's why healing spells are my specialty. This man's guide is...was...Vulkaro. And Vulkaro has...just now...undergone his transformation into a demon."

You think back to your dream of falling through the earth. Somehow it makes you think of Vulkaro, with sympathy.

"He was...confused," Merlyn continues, gesturing to the man lying before you, "as the transformation occurred. But he doesn't deserve to die."

Deke still looks skeptical. "Merlyn, you know we don't have it in us to fight him again," he points out.

Merlyn nods grimly. "I know. Please just trust me. He won't hurt us."

You gain 10 strength, 20 courage, and 10 luck points.
If you want Merlyn to heal the man, turn to page 77.
If you don't want her to heal the man, turn to page 64.