12
Both Sage and Caius leapt forward. Sage reached my fingers first and snatched the thread of hair from me a half second before Tom got a hold of it. The elf grabbed at Sage’s hand, but my grandfather stepped back out of his short reach.
Tom’s face twisted into a furious rage that reddened his cheeks and made his eyes glow light red in the dim cave light. “Give it to me!”
“So you can make her your slave?” Caius spoke up. “Not likely.”
I whipped my head to him and my jaw hit the leather-bound floor. “Make me into his what?”
“The possession of the parts of a person’s body, even their hair, and given willingly, will bring the victim under the power of the magic caster,” Sage explained to me as he pocketed the hair. “That’s called sympathetic magic, and elves are very adept at it.”
