The peasant woman couldn't scream any more — her sore throat could do little more than groan. "By Erastil's na

The peasant woman couldn't scream any more — her sore throat could do little more than groan. "By Erastil's name..." Jhod whispered. "I was wrong... The lungs are clear." Tristian closed the patient's wound with a healing spell. "Please, don't stop now! You can still save her. The stomach, hurry!" Screams of pain rebounded off the prison walls once more, but this time it was over much faster. Jhod cut open the woman's stomach and pulled out a strange item.