She recovered quickly, though the pain in her hand was excruciating. She had no time to figure out what was going on behind her. Karl was down and likely bleeding to death. Mekelson and Quint were on their own for now. She gritted her teeth and broke the arrow in her hand in half against the stone floor, screaming at the pain but knowing she was Karl’s only hope. She drew the shaft through her hand then crawled to where Karl lay. He was breathing, conscious still, though he could barely follow her through his agony. He had managed to get the arrow out of his leg, but the one in his chest remained. She didn’t like the sound coming from it as he breathed either.

Then he did something truly unexpected. He touched her with his hands. She felt the power enter her from his touch. Despite his obvious pain, he was healing her, with her meager hand wound!

Nevertheless, it worked and worked fast. Her hand was restored within a few seconds. She looked at him, and he glanced towards where the arrow still protruded, bubbling where the shaft broke his skin whenever he breathed. She gripped the shaft with both hands and pulled.

The arrowhead came out, but it left a bloody tear in its wake. Karl had no more breath for screaming and he passed out mercifully. But with the arrow gone, Kreet now could do her own work on her friend. She closed her eyes and cast the most powerful healing spell she knew. The Healing Prayer was designed to heal up to six allies a small amount. As she prayed, she tried twisting the spell to do something more. She tried to make it heal a single target six times as fast. It was breaking the rules and wouldn’t work, but she brushed that aside. She had Faith. Faith in Pelor. He would not allow something as trivial as spell-casting rules to stop his will, and this surely was his will. She had faith, she knew it would work. It had to work.

Then she opened her eyes. In front of her Karl’s wounds were closed. His eyes opened, and a smile began until he looked behind her. His eyes betrayed fear, and Kreet spun around. The demon was charging directly at the two Clerics. For a split second, she saw the two figures in armor lying on the floor beyond. One was moving, trying to stand. The other was not.

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But the fiery eyes drew her own eyes back to it as smoke blew from wounds, billowing behind it. It roared, and she was driven deaf as it came, unstoppable, at the two Clerics. She had no time to cast anything, to pray, to think. She looked back to Karl, sadness in her eyes. She began to say “I’m sorry.” for the last time. But Karl wasn’t laying there waiting for death. He had risen, arms to both sides, head bowed. She had no idea what he was doing. He looked like he was making himself a sacrifice to the marauding demon.

Then, with no more than a second before the demon was on them, a magical wall of blades appeared directly between them and the demon. Kreet could feel wind of the magical slashing blades and the power flowing from Karl to the Wall. And it was huge. Though it tried, the demon had too much momentum. It could not avoid passing through. It’s attempts to stop served one purpose though, the meat that came through was blessedly diverted to one side of Kreet and Karl. It didn’t even have time to scream.

“Very good. Wall of Blades. Powerful spell. Impressive. You will be a welcome addition,” said a voice inside her head, as Karl slumped to his knees. “Well worth the effort to bring you to me and one fire demon. You may proceed.”

Karl helped Kreet back to her feet and they staggered to where Mekelson and Quint were. Mekelson was kneeling and had Quint’s helm off, but the Paladin wasn’t moving.

“Could have used you, boy,” Mekelson said, breathing hard but with nothing but sadness in his words.

Karl didn’t say anything, but put his hand over Quint’s head.

“He’s dead,” he said plainly. Kreet looked at the body of her Master and back to Karl.

“Karl, we have your boy. We can go back now.”

“I don’t think so,” Karl said, looking away from the body. That cave-in…“

"We could climb over it. It doesn’t go all the way to the ceiling,” Kreet pointed out.

“With the boy? Over that rubble?” Mekelson said, still breathing hard. “It would be tough, but possible.”

“And there’s something still here,” Karl said. “Something besides Brand. I doubt it would let us go so easily.”