The sudden resurrection and subsequent vow of murder drew mixed reactions from the crowd.

  Shock was evident, though none were surprised as much as Grom, the performer of the miraculous feat of revival. He stood, looking from his outstretched hands to the warrior fighting his way off the pyre, to the sky, unsure of how to react.

  “The gods are toying with me…” was all he could think to say as he whispered to himself.

  While most in present were happy, it was not universal. Linar for one, quickly disappeared from sight, no mean accomplishment in a sunlit meadow, but while Linar wasn’t many things—reliable and trustworthy chief among them—he was a rogue and a damn good one at that.

  Syril was for his part happy at the sudden turn of fortune. He hated interviewing new members for the party, and as the party’s nominal leader, the task always fell to him as the other found reasons to be elsewhere. It was in all their best interest to ensure any warrior they recruited was up to the task of keeping them alive, but they all “trusted his judgement.”

  Though, from the reaction Bill had to Linar and the look he saw on Ellen’s face, he suspected he’d still have to resume the search, if not for a warrior than for another rogue.

  Ellen’s face dropped when she saw Bill raising from the dead. Her new friend—whose name she’d yet to learn—took off straight for the pyre, a grim expression set on her face. She grabbed Ellen’s hand as she went, only saying.

  “Come on, I think we’ll find out the truth together.”

  Bill stumbled as he leaped off the pyre, turning his angry charge into a scramble that knocked the crowd out of their shock. The closest turned to flee the enraged warrior while the ones further away moved in to get a closer look at the miracle.

  The wildly conflicting emotions of the crowd continued to cycle from joy, to fear, and now to bewilderment as Bill struggled to get to his feet. Every time he tried to put weight on his legs, he collapsed. Each fall only fueled his anger further and soon he was howling with rage as he struggled to barely hold himself up against the pyre, eye’s scanning the crowd for the stealthily departed Linar.

  “What’s wrong with him?” Ellen’s friend asked, some small amount of concern breaking through her mischievous grin.

  “Resurrection brings them back to life, but it takes a while to recover. He did just die after all.”

  Their calm conversation stood out in the chaos all around them and Bill’s eyes caught them in their search for Linar. They landed on Ellen’s friend first and a hint of happiness broke through the rage, only for that to turn to terror as he registered Ellen.

  Bill turned to flee, momentarily forgetting the floppiness of his legs. As soon as he let go of the pyre, he collapsed to the floor once more.

  Ellen was dragged up on the platform, right past Grom who was standing by trying to maintain some level of priestly dignity while searching for an escape of his own.

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  “Great job Grom,” Ellen said, dripping with sarcasm as she passed him.

  “I am… uh…” Grom said, looking from Bill to Ellen’s companion and now his unnamed barmaid who’d approached the platform with adoration in her eyes. “But a conduit o’ the gods—god. Just the one. Cland.”

  “You’re something alright,” Ellen muttered to herself.

  Ellen’s companion turned to Grom and gave him a brief courtesy

  “Thank you, sir, for bringing my cheating husband back from the dead so I can kill him myself,” she said, turning a baleful glare at Bill.

  “Maybe that’s why he did it?” Grom said quietly to himself, scratching at his beard in thought.

  “You told her!?” Bill asked in shock, looking from Ellen to his apparent wife.”

  “Oh… that makes a lot of sense,” Ellen said, finally putting the pieces together. “I really should have picked up on that.”

  “This…. girl is who you cheated on me with?” Bill’s wife demanded. “She’s basically a noodle! If you’re going to cheat, you ought to at least have done it with a real woman!”

  “Hey!” Ellen said, beginning to defend herself, but then thought better of it.

  Despite her earlier complaints about the men of the wizarding college, the women were no better. And noodle armed she might be. As a group wizards tended to be willing to accept the truth when presented to them—no matter how much they might wish reality to be otherwise.

  Distantly, a boom echoed through the distance in the direction of the city.

  “Oh, no! An attack, we better go investigate!” Ellen shouted, the happiness in her voice at the opportunity not matching up with the words she spoke.

  “Thank the gods,” Grom muttered.

  Before Bill or his wife could react, she placed a hand on Grom’s shoulder and began casting a spell.

  The meadow vanished, and they appeared in a designated teleportation portal in the wizarding college of the city.

  Grom stumbled out of the circle and threw up all over the paved courtyard.

  “There’s a trough for that!” Ellen admonished him, gesturing to the porcelain trough next to each teleportation circle.

  Water flowed endlessly through it, disappearing through a hole at one end.

  “I hate teleporting,” Grom said, cleaning his beard off in the trough.

  “You could have resisted and stayed behind,” Ellen suggested.

  “Bah! I don’t hate it that much.”

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