Free Plague of Spells by Bruce R. Cordell

soon, he’d lose his leg, then soon enough his life.
    The ghoul remained prone, writhing and drooling without regard to its environment. Its senses were overloaded, maybe burned out. He’d seen a similar response many times during his decade of abomination hunting. The Sign’s mere manifestation affected weaker aberrations just so. The most powerful aberrations were less affected. Lucky these were not the most potent of their kind…
    A flicker of movement brought Raidon’s attention up and back. The ghoul-thing’s two compatriots had ceased their rivalry. They stared at Raidon and the glowing symbol on his chest with calculating and fearful eyes.
    Despite their trepidation, they advanced.
    They saw the Sign and obviously recognized its potential to eradicate them, but they could also smell his blood. Raidon supposed that smell pierced their sense of self-preservation. For these ghoul-monstrosities, hunger was a drive purer and fiercer than fear.
    They charged.
    The monk cried, “Husks of abominable hunger, see the Cerulean Sign!” His chest blazed anew with sky blue light. Shafts of radiance flashed like blades from his body to lance the attackers.
    One of the ghouls sidestepped the glow, but the other ran headlong into the brilliance. Its eyes shuttered in pain as the purifying radiance dazzled it. It tripped and fell, mewling.
    The second ghoul, oblivious of its “brother’s” fate, reached him. A claw slipped past Raidon’s shielding forearm, slashing directly across the symbol tattooed on his chest.
    The Sign’s radiance instantly failed.
    Raidon fell back, holding his focus. He released a flurry of fierce kicks to the ghoul’s knees even as it clawed and tentacle-lashed him. While the creature couldn’t feel physical pain, its body could be broken with sufficient force. Unfortunately, he couldn’t kick with his ravaged leg.
    Simultaneously, he shuffled left as he dodged, slipped, and blocked the ghoul’s assaults. His adversary was too intent on sinking its teeth into Raidon to worry about the terrain. When the ghoul was in position, Raidon feinted, and then pushed. It tripped backward over the ghoul who had nearly bitten off the monk’s leg, who was just rising from its dazed fall.
    Raidon took advantage of the reprieve to glance down at his chest. A bloody stripe bisected the symbol blazoned there. He closed his eyes and dragged forward his healing visualization yet again. There was no time to deal with his foot—but that was the lesser issue now. He concentrated on his upper body. He saw the partially severed lines of his symbol within the greater model of his own body.
    In a manner no different from the method he used to heal other minor hurts, he imagined the severed lines growing closer, bridging the gap, and rediscovering the connection just severed. Coolness returned to his chest. Not as strongly as before, but enough.
    Raidon’s eyes opened. His opponents were already on their feet and advancing.
    He pulsed with cerulean light once more.
    Both creatures screamed when the light touched them. This last radiance proved too much for them. Shrieking and crying, they retreated backward toward the gates of Starmantle.
    His reserves were exhausted. He turned his back on a chilling, rain-laden wind from the north. He looked south toward Gulthmere Forest. Black smoke furled into the sky, and he caught a whiff of burning pine. The already blasted forest was burning, again.
    Without a word, Raidon hobbled west. He wondered which would be the agent of his death: his wound, pursuing Starmantle ghouls, fire, or freezing rain?

CHAPTER FIVE
    The Year of the Secret (1396 DR) Olleth, Sea of Fallen Stars
    Nogah regarded the Dreamheart with unblinking eyes. She clutched the stone in both webbed hands. A year ago she’d pried it from the earth’s nadir. Since then, she’d not allowed a day to go by that didn’t include spending time with the orb.
    The not-quite-spherical chunk of unfamiliar mineral was her