“But Karl, you must be exhausted. We have no time to rest and replenish our spells either,” Kreet protested.

“You’re right Kreet, I’m done. My power is all but gone. That Blade Wall took all of it. But you have more Kreet. A lot more. I felt it in you. You haven’t trained, so your spells are still low level, but you have gained in power more than you know. I need that power, Kreet. I need it now, before we face whatever is waiting for us with Brand. Kreet, take my hand. You can give me the power I need.”

“To do what, Karl? What’s so important?”

Karl looked back to the body of their dead Master.

“Resurrection!? You can do that!?”

Karl shook his head. “No. I can’t do Resurrection, and you haven’t the power even if I could. But I can Raise the Dead. He’ll be unconcious, but he’ll be alive.”

Mekelson spoke up then, “Karl, even if you can do this, it will probably gain us nothing. Whatever is in here could just tap him on the head and he’d be dead again, and then even Kreet would have nothing left. Are you sure this is a good idea?”

Karl looked at Kreet. “He’s got a point. You’ll have almost nothing left yourself.”

Kreet looked back at her Master’s body. Then she took Karl’s hand.

She felt the power leave her and enter Karl. She assumed from there it entered Quint. Through the link, she could feel Karl talking with the soul of her Master. Asking, begging, then commanding him to return to life. That was a bit of a stretch, she thought. She couldn’t imagine commanding her old Master to do anything. But it worked. Breath returned to the body in front of them and Karl opened his eyes.

“Damn stubborn man. He just wants to rest for all eternity. Jeeze, lazy bastard!”

“Karl! You did it, you brought him back!”

Karl looked at the man and kicked at the shiny armor. “Damned if I know why. You got anything left Kreet? Even just a little healing spell will at least get him concious.”

Kreet shrugged and tried anyway. She managed to eek out a little healing spell. The Paladin’s eyes opened.

“Dammit Karl, it was nice there.”

“Welcome back, Master Quint,” Kreet said.

“Don’t bother to thank me or anything,” Karl said, standing up.

“Oh, alright. Thank you for bringing me back to life, Karl,” the Master said, a smile on his face.

“Can you stand?” Mekelson asked him.

“Not in this metal coffin. Get me out of it and I might be able to sit at least.”

The three managed to get the man out of his armor.

“Sorry I can’t help more, Karl. But I think you’re right to continue on. Whatever is in there won’t stop. If it can control a demon of that power, it’s got to be stopped. Leave little Paulie here with me. I’m better than nothing.”

Karl did as his master bid. “I don’t suppose it would let us rest and get our spells back,” he said to Quint as he laid Paulie on his lap.

“Sorry, no,” said a voice in their heads. “You are ready to join me now. Come if you want to live.”

From the far side of the huge space, she saw figures walking calmly out and to either side from beside a passage to an inner chamber. The figures were armed to the teeth and of various races - some of which Kreet recognized only by pictures in books.

Kreet sighed and stood up. She took the hand of Karl on one side, and looked up at Mekelson on the other.

“You know, I still hate you,” she said, though her outstretched hand indicated differently.

“Back in my day we stacked kobold bodies 5 high to use as sandbags,” Mekelson said, but took her hand.