“Where is the pardon?” Helvar growled. “I saw you put it in your pocket.” Kaz crouched down beside him and produced the folded document from a pocket that had seemed empty just a moment before. “This?” The Fjerdan flopped his useless arms, then released a low animal growl as Kaz made the pardon vanish in thin air. It reappeared between his fingers. He turned it once, flashing the text, then ran his hand over it, and showed Helvar the seemingly blank page. “Demjin,” muttered Helvar. Kaz didn’t speak Fjerdan, but that word he knew. Demon.
