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Dripping, I dove and rolled, interposing the now-rising Jurt between
myself and the sorcerer in the air. Jurt actually appeared to be throwing
off the effects of Jasra's bite. So I drove my fist into his stomach as I
rose and turned him into an even better position to serve as my shield. A
mistake. I received a jolt from his body, not unlike a nasty electrical
shock, and he even managed a brief laugh as I fell.
"He's all yours," I heard him gasp then.
From the corner of my eye, I saw where Jasra and Sharu Garrul stood,
each of them seemingly holding one end of a great long piece of macrame work
woven of cables. The lines were pulsing and changing colors, and I knew they
represented forces rather than material objects, visible only by virtue of
the Logrus Sight, under which I continued to operate. The pulse increased in
tempo, and both sank slowly to their knees, arms still extended, faces
glistening. A quick word, a gesture, and I could break that balance.
Unfortunately, I had problems of my own just then. Mask was swooping toward
me like some huge insect-expressionless, shimmering, deadly. A succession of
brittle snapping sounds occurred within the front wall of the Keep, where a
series of jagged cracks raced downward like black lightning. I was away of
falling dust beyond the spiraling lights, of the growling and the whining
sounds-faint now within my ringing ears-of the continuing vibration of the
floor beneath my half-numbed legs
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