Thank the Maker the spell missed him. It was an easy feeling of relief. By now he was getting closer, it wouldn't be much longer. As horrible of a thought that it may be, she didn't want to watch anymore of this. Again she was a puppet watching without any control to the outcome. But still, it was worth trying, as the next spell began, the low, vibrating, gurgled chant still sickening in her ears, she focused.

And then for a moment, it worked. The chanting ceased and the vibrations ended. But it was hardly enough time to even consider an alternative action. With a final inaudible growl the spell finished, the hand moved and a stone fist flung toward its target. Duncan! She cried, but it reached no one's ears.