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. Pitrick had been saving it for a special occasion, and
his fingers hesitated before he tugged the ends of the satin
ribbon that held it closed. He had to carefully phrase his
wish before he opened the scroll and unleashed its power.
Slipping it under his arm, he paced around the narrow
space surrounding his desk to position himself in front of the
hearth, the pain of his foot momentarily forgotten.
"What exactly do I want?" he said aloud. "I want her
alive, my prisoner, and as beautiful as she was before she
was devoured by the beast." He stopped, and his eyebrows
raised with a fanciful notion. "I could bring her back sub-
missive, or even adoring of me!" He shook his head. "No,
that would not be Perian, and I would not have the chal-
lenge of taming her, nor enjoy her hatred of my power over
her. And that is everything!"
Pitrick stepped around a support pillar and over the dead
body of his former servant to pick up the mug filled with
mushale. He took a only a sip to rinse his mouth, then spat
the distilled brew into the fire. Tongues of flame shot up,
nearly licking the ceiling vent, sending more shadows danc-
ing in the smooth chamber
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