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"Come!" The lone word echoed through the night out of
nowhere. She heard the savant's voice as she tried to break
into a run, but something in the power of his voice - in the
power of his word - held her step.
Perian whirled to face him, ready to shriek her hatred and
revulsion. Instead, she took a step toward him. Gaping in
astonishment, she looked down at her feet even as she took
another step toward the repulsive hunchback.
"I knew I'd find you!" he crowed.
Perian tried to articulate a challenge, or to raise her axe in
defense. But her mouth clamped shut, beyond her control,
while her arms hung slack at her sides. She felt, but could
not stop, her axe slipping from her numb fingers. The
weapon dropped to the ground.
Again that blue light surged, and she saw its reflection in
Pitrick's eyes. He leered at her, all but licking his lips, as she
stumbled forward another step. Perian thought of the
walled fort, of Flint waiting for her at the gate. The knowl-
edge halted her advance as she resolutely planted her feet,
ignoring the compelling power of Pitrick's spell
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