Knowing she wasn’t going to be able to stand up, she laid back
down and groaned slightly.
“Can I get you something to eat?”
She shook her head, “Where’s my flail?”
“It’s beside you on the table.”
“They were going to take it.”
“Qualsax collects weapons of those they kill.”
She managed a weak smile, “I almost had them.”
He reached over and gently brushed the hair off of her forehead,
“Yes, you did.”
“Did anyone die?”
“Not from our side.”
“You finished them off?”
She nodded and then fell back to sleep. Once he was sure she was
down for a while, Alric walked over to the window and clutched
the cross amulet he had hanging over his chest.
“I could ask Daemionis for her life,” he whispered.
When he got no answer from Sithias, he knew his god wasn’t
pleased with the idea. It was risky to ask another deity for
anything, and doing so often resulted in blood pacts and death
“I can’t let her go back to a demon,” he said softer.