When the fang lands on the floor, the magic circle dies away. Its light and noise dissipates so slowly it’s hard to notice, but as the gang stands in silence, intoning whatever private tribute to Berstuun they may, the circle’s magic fades. Nothing is left but the fang.
Shyan rummages some drawers until she finds a mallet. She raises it dramatically and an instant later brings it down on the purple fang. The force, though considerable, isn’t enough to break the thing: it goes flying out from under the mallet and bounces off a far wall, leaving a crack in the plaster.
Cang sprints over to find the fang itself unchanged. He holds it up in two fingers. “Do you think we could secure a good price for this object?”
“Maybe from the lich,” Shyan says. “But I don’t think she should have it.”
“What’ll happen to the witch, Ulxurix, if we break the tooth?” Fassn asks. “Her body, I mean.”
Shyan shrugs. “I don’t know. Can it be worse than a lich running loose?”
Just then, in Cang’s fingers, the fang twitches.