Lying on his back, hearing footfalls fast approach, Mallet reached up to his neck – he couldn’t breathe – blood gushed down into his lungs, hot and numbing. Frantic, he summoned High Denul— A shadow descended over him and he looked up into a passive young face, the eyes blank as a dagger lifted into view. Kick open the gate, Whiskeyjack— Mallet watched the point flash down.
