The healer looked grim. "I feared as much," she said, stopping her page turning. "Yes, exactly as I feared."

"Feared what?" Miranda demanded. "What's going on?"

The healer shook her head and placed the open book on the table. "Tis a spell of soul-binding," she said. "A Soul Bridge' specifically. The witch has used dear Miranda's blood to connect your spirits as one."

She pointed to Khaylan. "Thus, if you are injured by, say, a bolt," she winked. "So is she," she turned her eyes to Miranda. "Likewise, were you to get killed, say, in a skirmish, he would die as well. And vice versa."

"WHAT?!" The bard painfully sprang to her feet, only barely noticing her body ache in protest. "You can't be serious!"

"I speak the truth, my friend," Lola said. "I'm afraid, my lord, that the witch has killed you in a round-about fashion. Your life is now in the hands of someone who dwells in the dangerous sections of the city."