As the overman’s hand neared it again, the flames died away to a yellow flickering. Galt ignored them and grasped the hilt firmly.
The smell of burning flesh filled the air and smoke poured from his hand; with a faint cry of pain he released his grip and looked at his scorched palm.
“I don’t think it’s an illusion,” Garth said, “but I don’t understand why it rejected you.”
For a moment the five stood silently considering. Then Saram asked, “Guard, would you care to try?”
“I am called Fyrsh, human. Yes, I’ll try it.”
Galt returned and exchanged portions of rope with Fyrsh. The warrior had no better luck than his predecessors; like Saram, he touched the sword only lightly, with his fingertips, and received only slight burns. There was no flaring of flame, but the faint flickering remain
