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. WHAT STRENGTH
HAVE I AGAINST THE HARD HAND OF YOUR YOUTH? Weary
age, ancient burdened grief filled the voice, and blurred images of
pitiful but valiant striving coalesced into pictures in the half-elf's
mind, as clear as though they were his living memories. In the
wavering torchlight the shadow of his own fist seemed a black and
evil thing. HE IS AN OLD MAN!
Tanis relaxed his hold on the mage and started to release him.
Then, as he turned his head, shamed by the thought of striking so
helpless an opponent, he saw Gadar's lips move slowly, silently
chanting the words of a deadly spell. His black eyes glittered like
those of an ancient snake coiled to strike.
It took only one blow to still the mage. But as magic's rainbow
light surged to life again, pulsing and throbbing in the air, Tanis
knew he'd struck too late.
Karel hunched his shoulders, his head bowed intending to butt
through the wall of Gadar's power.
"No!" Riana screamed.
"Karel!" It was not Riana who cried out then, but Daryn.
Something of himself flickered in his eyes. He reached out his
hand as though he would stop Karel where he crouched, ready to
leap through the blood-etched circle. Daryn's eyes were black with
fear, then finally, free of the puppet-master's influence of the
mage's will, understanding. At last his own will animated his
limbs. He staggered toward Karel, crashed into the pulsing wall of
magic, and thrust his hand into the free air of the chamber
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