By the time my party returned, there had been barricades raised at the entrance of the Wyrm, and those who were fit to fight sat at the ready. As the sun descended behind the hills, the headlights of several trucks pierced the twilit foliage. A half-dozen silhouettes of armed men emerged, and my pulse skyrocketed in anticipation of the battle. I am not a fighter. I never wanted to do anything like this.

My heart almost failed entirely when a familiar figure stepped into the clearing. “Basil Sykes!” he called. “I hope you’ve been enjoying the book you stole from me.” Professor Fielding was here!

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