[The longer the mage goes on with his search, the more anxious he becomes. It is not a pleasant feeling, being in such close proximity to him. The magic his captive is using, drawing into and through him, raises Bennet's hackles like the draw of nails across stone. He can feel it in his nails, his teeth, the hairs on the back of his neck. He doesn't like the feeling.
And then it stops. The sensation of being so close to a current he can feel without seeing mercifully ends, but one look at the face of the mage is enough to make him wish it hadn't.
Something is wrong. He knows that even before the man speaks. Reining his first, initial reaction in, he takes a deep breath before he speaks.]
As sure as I am of my own. What is the trouble, mage? Did your sorcery fail you?
no subject
And then it stops. The sensation of being so close to a current he can feel without seeing mercifully ends, but one look at the face of the mage is enough to make him wish it hadn't.
Something is wrong. He knows that even before the man speaks. Reining his first, initial reaction in, he takes a deep breath before he speaks.]
As sure as I am of my own. What is the trouble, mage? Did your sorcery fail you?