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When Jess returned home at noon, the imp was still copying away without complaint. Saeno had already piled up a thick stack of pages.

Jess sat on the edge of the bed and watched the little demon scribble rapidly. The ink in the bottle was disappearing before his eyes. And ink was so expensive. How long would it take to copy an entire book?

Come to think of it, the Wizard's Sanctum library had shelves and shelves of books. Surely they hadn't all been copied by magic?

Just the thought of buying more ink made his head hurt.

His sword was broken too. Five silver coins would have been better spent on a bottle of ink.

He should have asked for a replacement sword at Stonewatch Keep. Would they have given him one? Probably. Too late to worry about that now.

He had to win the Orcish language exchange opportunity. Otherwise he'd have to pay to reach Dalaran. More people would surely be traveling at Winter Veil, when humans and dwarves went home for the holiday. Without the Wizard's Sanctum covering his fare, the ship ticket would probably cost even more. How much money would that take?

Jess sighed deeply.

As he lowered his head, he noticed something sticking out from under the bed: the remains of a rolled-up book, little more than a spine and a few torn pages.

Right. Why had that orc warlock treasured this ruined book so much?

Jess now knew quite a few Orcish words, and he had a demon who understood the demonic language sitting beside him. Maybe he could finally work out what the pages said.

The runes on the spine were too badly damaged to identify. The few pages inside were still mostly intact, though; not much of each had burned away.

Jess looked them over and recognized a handful of Orcish symbols. Death. Vitality. Magic. Things like that.

He quickly realized his vocabulary wasn't enough to understand the passage. Then he spotted some writing in the demonic language and turned to the imp.

“Saeno, come see what this says.”

The imp leaned over, glanced at it, and read aloud, “Luhravenkta, Luarakipta... This is an incantation. A very evil incantation, Master.”

Jess's eyelid twitched.

He remembered how this imp usually described shadow and fel power. Not as dark magic or sinister forces, but as shortcuts to success, as absolutely wonderful powers.

How evil did a spell have to be for even this creature to call it evil?

“It harms your own vitality. Your own life is the price you pay... to restore magical power. And the pain caused by the spell will also bring more shadow power, Master.”

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Jess slowly raised his head, then nodded.

Wasn't that converting health into mana?

A spell that turned health into mana? Life Tap?

His hands started to tremble.

No wonder the orc warlock had guarded these pages like treasure. This was the Life Tap spell!

Then why bother with mana potions? He could just convert his health!

Wait.

Jess suddenly realized something. This wasn't a game, and the price of turning health into mana certainly wasn't as simple as a few numbers on a screen.

The imp had said the spell caused pain, and that the pain would become shadow power.

What did it actually mean to damage your vitality and your life?

It was a form of self-harm. Even the imp thought it was evil enough to be dangerous. That suggested even demons were reluctant to use it.

“Luhravenkta, Luara...”

Jess began repeating the words to familiarize himself with the incantation, then forced himself to stop. He remembered how he'd casually spoken a spell at Marin's study and nearly started a fire.

Most spells shouldn't work just because someone said the words. As Marin had explained, casting usually required many other conditions.

But dark magic rarely followed the usual rules. Perhaps dark things were always hovering nearby, waiting for someone to call to them. They might get so eager they emerged before he even finished the incantation.

Ever since Marin's explanation about magical energies having wills of their own, Jess had felt as though tons of shadow energy were constantly watching him.

He checked the sensations in his body and the air around him. Only when he was sure his few spoken words hadn't stirred any shadow energy did he relax.

“See if these pages say anything about how to cast it.”

“The rest is written in Orcish runes, Master,” the imp said, shaking his head. “I can't read those. But Master, whether you understand it or not, don't use this spell carelessly.”

“Why? Do you know something about it?”

“If this kind of magic is used too often, even a demon can become shadow-touched,” Saeno said, touching his face. “Their skin darkens. The fel flames in their eyes slowly fade and turn deep red. Eventually they enter the realm of shadow and are absorbed by the void. There are many spells like this, and this one is among the easiest to learn.”

“Demons are among the creatures least vulnerable to shadow power! Our flesh is fel energy, our strength is blazing chaotic fel fire, and our food is pure, undisturbed arcane energy. Those powers can all push back the irreversible effects of shadow. But if your own will invites shadow inside, then once it becomes part of your body, it's very hard to send it away again!”

For some reason, Jess remembered warlock players in the game who didn't want to sit down to eat and drink between battles. They would run around frantically converting health to mana, driving healers and raid leaders mad until everybody was yelling at them.

According to the imp, if he cast the spell repeatedly like one of those players, he'd turn into some kind of shadow demon on the spot. Or simply drop dead.

Maybe the orc warlocks of the Shadow Council had used similar magic so often that it turned their skin dark and made their eyes look strange.

He had to keep his distance from spells like this. He needed to live among humans every day. If even his appearance changed, how could he possibly keep his powers hidden?

Still, the ruined book really did contain an interesting spell, just as he'd hoped. He simply couldn't use it recklessly.

If he ever managed to understand the incantation completely, perhaps he could save it as a desperate last resort. But first he'd need an attack powerful enough to turn a hopeless situation around.

In the worst possible moment, he could sacrifice part of his life for magical power and use one final spell to reverse the fight.

Fear, at least for now, wasn't quite enough.

In Jess's experience, a skilled warrior could resist the urge to run even while affected by Fear, and within a few seconds—or perhaps a dozen—regain enough control to recognize the effect of dark magic.

That meant his Fear spell was nowhere near strong enough. If the words themselves were right, maybe the problem was the way he said them, just as Saeno had explained about demonic pronunciation.

If Jess could someday make a young dragon collapse in terror, too frightened to move, then using Life Tap as a last-resort spell that hurt himself might finally be worth the price.

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