Leudast scuttled toward a boulder fifteen or twenty feet away. A beam like the one poor Captain Urgan had aimed at the dragon zipped close to him, but did not strike. He dove behind the boulder, almost knocking the wind out of himself. Then, peering out into the night, he tried to find the spot from which the enemy had blazed at him.

The big disadvantage to using a stick at night was that, if you missed, the flash of light could tell the enemy where you were. If you were smart, you didn't stay there long. If you moved, though, you were liable to expose yourself, or to make some noise.

Leudast heard some noise off to his night: running footsteps. He whirled. Straight at him came a Gyongyosian trooper who must have noted the thud and clatter he'd made diving for cover. With a gasp, Leudast thrust his forefinger into the recess at the base of his stick.

As much by luck as by good aim, his beam caught the Gong square in the chest. just for a moment, Leudast saw the enemy's broad, staring face, made animal-like - at least to a clean-shaven Unkerlanter - by a bushy yellow beard. The fellow let out a grunt, more of surprise than of pain, and toppled.

"The stick," Leudast muttered, and scurried over to grab it. He didn't know how much power his own had left. This far from a ley line, with no first-rank mage close by, when that power was gone, it was gone.

Good to have a second stick handy.

He scowled at the Gyongyosian's body, from which rose a faint smell of burnt meat along with the latrine odor of suddenly loosed bowels. The bastard was already dead, sure as sure. A mage didn't have to be of the first rank to draw energy from a sacrifice. Soldiers who gave themselves up to power their comrades sticks won the Star of Efficiency - post humously, of course - but expending a captive was more efficient still. [...t 1 n t matter, not here. For one ng, e a p first-ran crawled back b...]