"Y-your sword," the man with the burned arm stammered, turning to Kel's weapon donor.
"It's not the sword," the bald man responded with a gulp. "This kid must be a witch!"
Kel's sword dropped instantly, and she bit her lip to keep from laughing out loud.
A witch? That was the best they could do?
At the bald man's comment, the third soldier, a lanky man with long reddish hair tied back in a loose ponytail, finally piped up.
"Err.. can boys be witches?" he muttered to his companions.
"I don't know! But how else would you explain this?" the bald man boomed in reply, holding up their other comrade's smoking arm, a bubbling scarlet burn stretching from his wrist to his elbow.
The potato-nosed man, wincing under the bald man's bullish grasp, grumbled, "Are you sure it's not just the sword? I mean-"
"It's not the sword!!" The bald man shouted, his face turning red with exasperation.
