Ralph and the Pixie

One of Birin’s archers, at his direction, fired a bolt into the chest of one of the hideous creatures. The moment he did so, a horrifying scream came from one of the tents.

It was Deborah, who lay in a wild delirium, clutching frantically at her chest as though trying to pull something out of it. Dashing back to the perimeter, Ralph told Birin to instruct his archers not to fire at the Necropheids again. The Necropheids did not return that night, but Deborah’s condition was much worsened. She did not recognize her friends, and was still in the throes of delirium when morning finally came.

Theuli spoke with Birin at first light.

‘This cannot continue,’ she said. ‘The girl is failing. We must find some way to succour her.’

‘It is unfortunate,’ replied Birin, ‘that the Healer from her world did not accompany us. It was he who saved the girl from the Goblin’s poison when none other could. This matter is beyond the skill of our Healers.’

‘In the elder days,’ Theuli said, ‘when magic was not pursued as a private craft, our people summoned their strength as one, by means of ritual. Are we so lost that such skill is no longer open to us?’