Bernt slowly made his way down from the Upper District, sore and exhausted from a te afternoon sparring session with Therion. The e cimed he was gettier, but Bernt wasn’t sure that was true — not judging by the beatiook every time.

  He was trying to think of new and creative ways to apply trips in a fight when he saw a massive plume of fire rise in the distance.

  It came from the crafter’s district, and that just couldn’t be a good sign. He couldn’t be entirely sure, of course, but he khis city well. Pig up his pace, Bernt hurried dowreet, weaving around slow-movirians and the occasional cart. After reag the internal gate that took him into the Lower District, he took a left. That would take him through the Temple District, which he’d been avoiding for several weeks now.

  The Temple District oputed mostly by priests, padins, and their families. While not all of them knew or cared about him personally, very few of the gods had a ral policy toward demons or warlocks, and none had anything like a friendly outlook. He had to be careful. The gods themselves, fortunately, would likely know that he wasn’t a real warlock, so he probably wouldn’t have to fear a direct smiting for stepping too close to the wrong temple. But being reized could cause some problems —it might slow him down.

  Right now, though, it was worth the risk.

  He hurried dowreet, which opened up into a wide open pza. It was ringed with temples, shrines, and even a tiny sacred grove. People bustled about, often dressed in the colors of specific deities, or in the brilliant white of unchosen acolytes. The temple of Garrus, where he’d repaired a drainpipe just before his first dungeon delve, was located just around the er from here. Retively minricultural deities didn’t rate pt directly on the main pza.

  Taking care not to draw attention to himself, Bernt hurried across the pza to the far side, which would take him directly into the Crafters’ District. Everyone else seemed to either be looking toward the Crafters’ District themselves, likely ed about what was going on there, or pletely ign the situation as if what went on outside their own temples was of no sequeo them.

  He almost made it across without i, but then heard a familiar voice call his name.

  “Hey, Bernt!” Syrah called out. “Where are you off to so quick?”

  He looked back to see the cleric waving and hurrying toward him.

  “Did you see the fire?” Bernt asked, letting her catch up before pig up the pace again. “I think it was over by the breach. I kind of doubt it was an actal alchemical explosion.”

  “Yes, true enough.” Syrah said, frowning. “Something isn't right in that dire. Your demon friend, or one of her ilk.”

  Bernt narrowed his eyes a little, but didn’t bother tue. He wasn’t going to ge her mind.

  “I’m going to help. Are you ing?”

  She snorted and sped up, f Bernt into a trot to keep up.

  –-------

  Bernt wasn’t sure what exactly he was expeg to find when they arrived. Maybe the ereet ihe new gate colpsed, or a horde of duergar spilling out of the old breach.

  What he wasn’t expeg to find was Jori dueling with a single, mad, hellfire-slinging dwarf. He could see the fight from her perspective in disorientiail well before they reached the pza in front of the Uy Gates.

  The imp g to the back of the dwarf’s head and shoulders and poured fire down onto his face. At the same time, the dwarf blindly threw fire back at her over his shoulder and danced in a little circle, screaming ily. Both demonibatants burned and howled in pain, but her were ed in the fmes that ate into the cobbles beh their feet. Jori jumped off the dwarf and flew bading hard on her back.

  He could feel the phantom sensation of a wing breaking as it was awkwardly bent underh her. The green underkeeper guard who’d been statio the new Uy Gate stood a few steps away, clutg haplessly at his spear as if unsure what to dur city guards were arriving as well, but they kept their distance as well. They were uandably not eager to throw themselves into a hellfire-fight. One passed his spear to anuard and ran off again, presumably to get help from someone who could deal with this.

  They would take too long, Bernt was sure.

  Further away, he glimpsed people watg from windows and around ers, but nobody moved to help. sidering what was happening, he couldn't really bme them.

  Horrific burn wounds closed almost immediately on both bantants. Pebbled scar tissue grew over them in seds, and then faded and smoothed into new ski wasn’t sure how demons normally fought, but seeing that, he doubted he was going to get anywhere with his usual fire spells.

  “ you fight demons?” Bernt gasped out at Syrah, out of breath as they raced toward the fight. “It’s some kind of demonic warlock – he’s fighting Jori.”

  The dwarf shook her head. “Do I look like a padin to you?” She didn’t slow down though, to her credit.

  Jori was ba the fight now, raking her cws down the back of the warlock dwarf’s leg as it tried to keep moving into the city. Apparently it was more ied iing somewhere than it was in winning the fight. That implied a specific target, beyond just getting up into the city and making a big mess.

  trating, he brought up his wand and began trag a spell in the air. It was a guess, but he figured it retty good one, sidering where he’d found the spell. Even if it didn’t, it would at least distract the monstrous duergar long enough for Jori to do something. He hoped.

  Cold fire, when he’d finally gotten around to casting it at an old, rotting log down by the river the other day, didn’t really do very much to physical objects. The wood had bed and bubbled oddly, but nothing more.

  Casting it correctly would take him a moment, and he’d he time until they reached the fight up around the er. Thanks to his familiar bond with Jori, Bernt kly where the dwarf was when he rouhe er, fag mostly away from him. He slung bits of hellfire back at Jori as he limped off toward the far side of the small pza, where several of the nervous city guards were waiting. They didn’t want to fight the warlock, but they weren’t going to let it run wild iy, either.

  Bernt sprioward the warlock. He hadn’t had time to modify the spell – it was still just a loose e of fire, not a fireball or anything that would cross the distao the dwarf without also striking Jori or just diffusing into the air short of the target. He o close in quickly.

  When the dwarf noticed him and turned, Bernt was within just a few strides of him. It was close enough. With a snarl, he unleashed the spell.

  He was too slow.

  The warlock flung a hand toward him and lobbed what looked like a liquid gobbet of fire directly at him. The two attacks met in the air. Only then did Bernt realize that he’d pletely fotten to remove the effects of his iure from the spell. Rather than the plume of gray fire he expected, a broad stream of flickering, burning silver sprayed out against the dwarf’s head and shoulders and spshed down onto his legs a.

  The ball of hellfire barely cut through the silver fmes, ing out as little more than a translut wisp of fme. Still, it flew true and struck Bernt’s right arm with a sizzling hiss. Bernt gasped and shook his arm, as if trying to shake the fire off, but it was already out. Still, it hurt, radiating bone-deep pain all the to his shoulder.

  The screech that tore from the warlock’s throat was too loud and high-pitched to e from a dwarf. It was inhuman agony tearing from a mortal throat. He filed for a sed, then dropped to his knees in shuddering silence. When the fire went out – it couldn’t have been more than two or three seds – the dwarf looked ruined. His skin was cracked and peeling off, charred bck where it had curled away from the body.

  Unlike before, no hellfire gushed out of the wounds to close ee his wounds.

  A soft hiss of pain escaped his lips, followed by a single ragged ihen Jori was on him. She sprang at him and tore out his throat with her long, cwed fingers. Hellfire gushed out, and Jori hissed in pain, but she reached in with her other hand and tain as the flesh threateo grow back.

  The enemy warlock died messily.

  Bernt groaned, cradling his wounded arm. He wiggled his fio make sure they still worked and breathed a sigh of relief when they did.

  Then Syrah was there, pulling up his sleeve to get a better look at the injury. A part of his lower arm was colored an angry red, with skin sloughing off the top in parts. At the ter, the skin was burned clear through in a rough oval shape, and he could see burned flesh beh. The robe hadn’t been damaged, somehow. It must have slid down his arm when he was casting.

  She eyed the wound critically before ying her hand over it and muttering something under her breath. Theook a small bottle from her belt and poured water out over the wound.

  The pain lessened almost immediately, as if he’d pluhe arm down into a barrel of icy-cold water. He breathed a sigh of relief and sat down on the ground. Syrah bent down to follow the motion a murmuring her prayer.

  Bernt wasn’t sure how lo there, but soon other people began to arrive. The city guards arrived first, several going to watch the gate, while one who looked like he might be in charge asked if anyone else had been hurt and if anyone had seen what caused the big explosion earlier.

  “I saw it. I think it was some kind of alchemical device.” expihe gray-derkeeper guard, who’d finally decided to join them. “These two dwarves came running up out of the tunnel – this one had a kind of strange-shaped bottle. It wasn’t very big. When the imp came up after them and started throwing fire at them. I thought the demon was attag our people at first. But then the weird dwarf’s eyes glowed aarted throwing fire right back. The bottle got hit and you saw what happehen. I thought the fight was over. The other dwarf disappeared – ran off ot blown up, I don’t really know. This one was fihough, barely a scratch.”

  The guards turo look over at Jori, who was trying to wipe her cws off on the dead duergar warlock’s shirt. While the dwarf was badly scorched, his clothes had takeively minor damage – an effect of the cold fire, Bernt suspected. It ied harshly with hellfire, and it prevehe demon from healing. If he was right, he’d stumbled on something specifically desigo fight demons. He’d have to see how it did against ehat weren’t suffused with infernal power.

  A challenge sounded from the Uy Gate, and was met with an angry retort. A moment ter, a small group of gray-uniformed underkeepers poured out onto the pza, led by Fiora. A few looked injured, a wondered what exactly had happened down there. Had the uneasy peace finally broken?

  Josie ran out ahead and waved to Jori. “Did you get them?”

  Jori shook her head, a felt regret echh their familiar bond.

  “Just the one.” she told the Solicitor. “The other o away.”