Aaralon paused. "I'm not familiar with the phrase 'a virgin's last gasp' from my arcane books. I can only assume you..."
The voice interrupted, "Never assume anything. Assumption is the root to all wrong. Foolish boy. A virgin's last gasp is exactly what I want. You know how to magically enchant a bottle as to capture someone's breath? Good. Of course you do. I want the last breath taken by a virgin caught in a bottle and brought to me." It was beginning to sound as if the speaker was moving around in the shadows, the voice seemed to be moving around to Aaralon's left. "That was your question, Aaralon. Do you accept the deal? Yes or no? There?s no harm in not accepting, only in accepting and failing."
It was the last comment that fire Aaralon's resolve. A challenge.
"I accept," he said stepping forwards. He caught a glance of a face - but it wasn't a crinkled old face, for the briefest of moments Aaralon imaged he could see a rather pretty woman looking at him from the shadows. He was thrown back against the wall, his shoulders crunching into the stone.
"Push your luck again and you'll not be able to regret it!" the voice was angry. "You had better succeed. Now! Go!"
He blinked. Aaralon was outside again. Sareth?s tower loomed overhead and the wind nipped at his light clothes. Students were beginning to make their way to class. I should report to Lady Carrie for the Gnoll Mission, thought Aaralon. What? He wondered immediately afterwards. Where had that thought come from? Damn Sareth, he?d clearly injected the idea telepathically. If that old man had been messing around in his head then he might have discovered the previous? nights demonology experiments. That's was if he had met Sareth in the tower and if Sareth was the old man everyone was told about. Aaralon was sure it had been a pretty woman in the shadows even though the voice had been old and male.
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