Tommi leans over Shalendra and hears her breathing. In spite of himself, he is unable to find forgiveness for her. Not yet. Gutter, on his hip, pulses in excitement.
"Give me a second," Tommi says, and he reaches for her belt. If there's a component pouch, or a wand or an amulet, or some other thing that might serve as a focus for her spells, he takes it away, pocketing it or throwing it to the other side of the room. When that is done, he looks at her fingers.
He knows he could break them all, and she might never case spells again. Or Gutter could take her hands at the wrists. Clean, quick. He wants to, and he is ashamed of his desire. Ashamed of his defeat.
Instead he reaches into his pack an pulls out the length of string. He ties her hands together, tight, the knots winding around her fingers and locking them together. He plls the strings tight, and he already sees the circulation backing up, turning them red. Purple will be next. He's worked quickly, but efficiently.
It's then he draws Gutter. And with his knee on his former companion's chest (assuming no one has stopped him this far), he grips the handle, poised to strike.
"There. I'm ready. You can heal her now." (It's perhaps not clear who he's talking to. He's staring at Shelandra.) "I do not think she can get away. If she somehow takes me over, then strike me down before you get to her. Let's see if she is again our ally. And if she can remove the bonds."
