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. To his left and flank were floor-to-
ceiling shelves filled with heavy, bound books, faded scroll
cases, a beaker of teeth, patches of fur, a harpy skull, an
ivory ogre tusk, quill pens and ink bottles, ground toenails,
a flask containing the breath of seven babies, and other as-
sorted dried ingredients. The shelves to his right were re-
served for bottles filled with raw components of every
imaginable color, odor, and viscosity, including frog glands
in phosphorescent swamp water, golden griffon blood, red-
hot lava, the sweat glands of a bugbear, mercury, giant slug
spittle, and rendered virgin rattlesnake.
Pitrick scanned the last page of the spellbook, the soft,
fleshy tip of his index finger tracing the words. Frowning, he
slapped the book shut on its front and looked up to stare
into the flames in the hearth.
He would have to use his wish scroll. The spells to ani-
mate the dead, resurrect a corpse, or clone someone all re-
quired the dead body, or at least part of it. The savant also
considered forcing Perian to reincarnate, but there was no
way to control or predict the subject's new form, and Pitrick
had no use for Perian as an insect
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