“Give it to me,” Thomas enunciated clearly. “Give it to me, now!”
The bishop, hardly conscious, still realized what Thomas was doing and started to struggle desperately. Thomas smashed him again with the dagger pommel. The bishop’s head lolled sideways. “Give it to me!”
The bishop moaned and tried to fight, but had no real strength. Thomas now felt what he was pulling, felt the bishop’s magic in his hand. He pulled harder, calling out all his power to do it. “You will give it to me, NOW!”
There was a feeling of tearing, and the magic, ripped from the bishop’s body, flowed into his own. Thomas’s exhaustion faded at once. The bishop had been collecting for a long time, Thomas realized. He sat there, astride the man’s chest, feeling the power flowing through him.
“They’re mine,” the bisho
