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. He saw that it was a frawl, and that she chopped
about her with an axe, savagely skillful. Her auburn tresses
burst free to swirl past her face.
Perian Cyprium!
"She is here!" Pitrick cried aloud, uncaring of the sur-
prised looks from the savants behind him. Instantly he
raised his hand, pointing his index finger right at her. He
could almost taste the effect of the fireball spell on this frawl
he had come to both desire and hate so much.
But something stayed his hand. The savants waited ex-
pectantly as he stared at her. The yearning for her was once
again surging through his pain-racked body.
Pitrick reached a decision. He would not burn her - yet.
A fireball seemed too fast, too impersonal a way for Perian
to die. Far better she saw that it was he who took her, and
that death should come slowly... afterward. There was
even the chance she would yet come to appreciate him, and
for a moment his mind thrilled to the image of Perian, on
her knees, begging for mercy. A part of his mind began to
imagine his response. Suddenly, violently, his attention
turned back to the battle
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