Feldard nodded solemnly at the rogue’s request. “On my honor, she will know your good deeds, my friend. What is her name?”
“Her name…is Marta,” said Nicolai with his final breath.
Miklos, still motionless, gripped within the witch’s spell stared as the dwarf crouched over Nicolai. He caught none of what words passed between them but as Feldard looked round his face spoke volumes. Miklos’s heart sank.
He dismissed blaming himself. If he had not used the wand, three foes they would have faced. One had done enough damage. A cruel turn of fate. He watched as Feldard secured the other witches.
He must acquire the Black Opal Eye. Only then would this nightmare end and some goodness come from this adventure. Yes, the Eye is the key. With such a treasure he would help restore the balance. Perhaps restore Saeth to her body? And the elf maids?
And turn back the Night of Dread? Foil the enigmatic Sons of Night? There was much to do…
Maruc strained against the force that held him. The elf-witches cry echoed in his mind in mockery as he watched helplessly as the poor Rogue paled in front of him. What torture was this? Why had Halav visited this upon him? To watch a friend die as he lay motionless. He felt like screaming. But he couldn’t. He could do nothing……as he watched the light die in his companion’s face a tear rolled down the clerics cheek.
Time seemed to drag on forever as the dwarf sat with his friend’s body. First, Miklos began to move, and then shortly thereafter the others. The witches were as furious as Trilena had been, but like her, they could do nothing bound as they were.