"So you are telling me," I repeat, struggling to bring my voice under some sort of non hysterical control. "That Azrael- the power of the mind soul, has more to than- oh I don't know- crushing your mind?"
I ask with a weary hysteria, realising with a sudden pang that my voice is little more than a whisper in the half light of the room, barely heard at all as I recoil into the shadows, my fists clenching next to my heart. The candle on the table flickers just as Fangorn pushes it aside with one long sweep of his arm, causing dark shapes to jostle and dance around the room. His nose wrinkles, fighting for the words.
