“You’re a sorcerer?” Harmon said, his voice lilting upward at the end to make his guess into a question.
“What?” Dia croaked as she spun her staff in front of her, deflecting a stream of paper that was being spewed from the titled bed of a malfunctioning magic-imbued printing press.
Harmon kicked the bed of the printing press, causing the rest of the ream of paper to spew wildly upward. As he made contact with the paper tray, a stray sheet cut close to him. At least, he thought he’d squeaked by until a clean slice caused the bottom of his left pant leg to fall. The cut did not go all the way around, and it was irritating to Harmon that half his pant leg was just hanging. It was actually more annoying to him than the flash of pain that came shortly afterward, indicating that his protecti
