ng them would be wise here, Dolanna offered.  These animals might carry diseases of which we have no knowledge.
	Dont worry about that, Dolanna, Miranda said.  I know a spell to cure diseases.  Well be safe enough.
	Ah.  In that case, carry on, she said with a smile and a wave of her hand.
	How many do you want, my mate? she asked.
	One will do, so fish out four if you dont mind, he answered.  One for each of us, plus whatever extra you want.
	Ill have them in a minute, she promised.
	Mist was a proficient fisher, so she had lunch out of the pool in mere moments.  Ulger kept giving disgusted faces as the four of them enjoyed a meal of raw fish, bread, and cheese, with water from the brook to wash it down.  The fish tasted just like fish from home, but that was something of a broad generality and he knew it.  But this particular fish tasted very good.  It was his first meal here on this new world, and it also included food from this new world.  That seemed like a good enough start to him.  Ick, Ulger said as he watched.  There goes my appetite.
	Its your loss, Haley told him.  These arent bad.  They taste like freshwater rockfish.
	Tarrin, Miranda said as they were finishing up.  Can you please do something about this robe?  Im begging!  Im going to die of heat stroke!
	Im not sure what I can do, Miranda, he told her.  Dont you know a Priest spell to fix it?
	I can pray for one that makes the air around me cool, but anyone who gets close to me is going to notice it, she told him.  I need a permanent solution, and I just dont have one.
	I may not have one either, he warned.
	We wont know until you look, will we?
	He chuckled.  Alright, he said, standing up.  Let me go get the book and Ill see if Kimmie or the Gnomes put a spell in there that will help.
	The book was a Gnomlin Traveling Spellbook, a gift from the Gnomes of Gnomlin, and it held all of the Wizard spells he could cast within it.  Kimmie and the Gnomes had added spells into it beyond those in his own tomes, and he still hadnt managed to go through all of them because he was always busy doing something else.  He went to his horse and pulled it out of the saddlepack, the brought it back over to where they were sitting.  He spoke the word that made the little thing expand to its full size, which took up his entire lap, and then he started paging through it.
	So thats a spellbook, eh? Ulger said.  I always wondered what one looked like.  He came over and looked over Tarrins shoulder.  Tarrin, why are the characters moving?
	Theyre not, he answered absently.  You dont have the magical skill to read them, so theyre hiding themselves from your eyes.  If you could read them, youd be a danger to yourself and everyone around you.  You dont play with Arcane magic, Ulger, so Wizards take steps to prevent messy accidents.
	Arcane magic? he asked.
	Wizard magic.  Thats what they call it.  Kimmie kinda made that stick on me.
	The book wasnt organized into sections or divided into groups of similar spells.  Each page held its own spell, and they werent in any order.  He had to go by memory and bookmarks which were liberally dispersed through it, each a different color, to find spells he was looking for.  He leafed through it as the others finished their meals, and began getting ready to move again, til he found one that looked promising.  Here we go, he said.  Heres a spell that creates a duplicate of an object in size and shape but leaves what its made of up to the caster.  It also creates the duplicate in the condition of the original when it was first made.
	Thats perfect! Miranda said with glee, clapping her hands.  Can you make a copy of this robe, but in a lighter material?  Like cotton, or plaxa fiber, or silk?  Id prefer plaxa.  Its very light, it breathes, itll keep me cool, and its very rugged.
	Easily, but I have to have a bit of the material that the creation will be made of, and it will disappear when I cast the spell.  So will the item Im duplicating.  You have anything made of plaxa you dont mind losing, and do you mind losing the wool robe?
	I dont need a heavy wool robe in the summer, and I think I have a shift, she said.  Do you need the whole thing or just a piece of it?
	Just a piece.
	Then Ill tear a swath for you, and you can cast it again with another swath to replace the shift itself.
	Clever, Sarraya said admirably.
	I didnt get this far by being a silly girl, Sarraya, Miranda said with a cheeky grin.
	Only when it suited you to look silly, Tarrin added.
	She gave him a knowing wink.
	Ill need the robe, Miranda, but without you in it, he told her.  You need to take it off.
	Gladly, she said, standing up and reaching for the belt holding it around her waist.
	You are wearing something under it, arent you?
	Of course I am.
	Damn, Ulger muttered just loud enough to hear, which made Haley laugh.  Miranda gave Ulger a daring little smile as she passed him, going to fetch the shift.
	More than just Ulger watched curiously as Tarrin accepted a torn piece of Mirandas shift and the robe he was going to duplicate, then memorized the spell.  Tarrin had a knack for it, and he was finished in mere moments.  It actually was a very easy spell to memorize.  When he was done he closed the book and spoke the word which made it shrink back to its tiny travelling form, and he stuck it absently in his pocket.  He put the robe on the ground, laid out flat so he could see it, then put the swath of white shift on the ground beside it and backed up.  Everyone else did the same, and he began the spell.
	Wizard magic was done in the language of magic itself, a nonsensical tongue that seemed to make no grammatical sense. Then again, Arcane magic often contradicted itself, and operated by rules that nobody who practiced Wizard magic truly understood.  They had learned enough to gain some control over the power, but not enough to truly understand it.  Wizards spent their entire lives in study of a force that their minds simply were not advanced enough to fully comprehend.  He chanted in that strange language, which seemed both musical and discordant at the same time, his hands making five distinct and sharp gestures before him, one after another after another, as was dictated by the spells formula.  The words and the gestures were what shaped the force of the magic and would cause it to do what he wanted it to do.  When he finished, he felt that tenuous connection to a force that existed elsewhere, and the magic came to him and then moved through him.
	The torn piece of shift shimmered on the ground before him, then vanished, as did the wool robe itself.  Almost immediately, a brown robe made of plaxa fiber, an exact duplicate of the original, appeared where the wool robe had been.
	I dont need a swath for the shift, he told Miranda as she handed him the other half of the torn piece.  Keep that in case you need something else duplicated.  If Im just replacing one garment with an undamaged duplicate of the same material, I just need the garment itself.
	Oh, alright.
	He repeated the spell once more to replace the torn shift, and he was done.  The casting of the two spells didnt tire him at all, for Wizard magic took a great deal of the Wizards own energy to control the forces of magic and make them do what he wanted them to do.
	Why did you have to memorize it anyway? Ulger asked.  I know how good your memory is, Tarrin.
	The words are in the language of magic, and they dont let themselves get memorized like that, he answered him.  Ill forget the spell in a few days or so, and Ill have to memorize it again.  Thats why you see Wizards with their noses in their books all the time.  They have to keep memorizing their spells over and over again.
	Oh, he said.
	That certainly explains why my cub always had her nose in her books, Mist grunted.
	The more advanced a Wizard is, the longer they can remember a spell, he said, reciting what Kimmie had taught him when she trained him in Wizard magic.  I can remember a spell for about four days.  Kimmie can hold one for six, and Phandebrass can remember a spell for almost a ride.
	Thats surprising, but then again its not, Sarraya laughed.
	Nothing about Phandebrass should surprise anyone anymore, Dolanna said mildly as Miranda belted the new robe around her curvy form.  How are the horses, Ulger?
	Weve just been riding a few hours, Dolanna, he scoffed.
	Yes, but we went from winter to summer.  We should check them over to ensure they have adjusted.
	Ill see to it, Azakar said, standing up with a rattle of clanking armor.
	I cant let a brother Knight do all the work.  Ill supervise, Ulger said with a roguish grin, following the huge Mahuut.
	You couldnt supervise a sleeping slug! Sarraya piped up.  Id better make sure that you stay out of Zaks way!
	The three of them moved to check the horses as Tarrin, Mist, and Miranda started cleaning up and getting ready to go, and Dolanna packed what few items they had taken out.  Tarrin stretched out his arms, and several sickening cracks from popping joints accompanied the motion.  Does it hurt? Mist asked.
	It never does, but sometimes I get a little stiff, he replied.
	It certainly sounds like it, Miranda told him.
	Ulger and Azakar endured the Faeries scathing commands and comments as they checked over the horses, and proclaimed them fit.  Tarrin mounted up after helping Dolanna onto her gentle mare, and Sarraya landed lightly on his shoulder.  Youre not ingratiating yourself very well, Sarraya, he said in a quiet tone.
	Heh, who cares?  Im having fun, she said in a wicked tone.
	Tread lightly around Ulger, little friend.  Hes like Faalken was.  He will get you if you annoy him.
	Isnt he the one that shaved the hair off one side of Zaks head?
	He nodded.  Zak threw him overboard in retaliation.  In full armor, he added.
	Ooh, this trip is sounding more and more fun, she said in a grim kind of anticipation.
	Youve been warned, he said mildly.
	Miranda seemed much happier after they started out once again, following Kimmies trail as it turned left onto the road.  The heavy wool cloak, combined with the summer heat, the beating sun, and her own thick fur, was making her utterly miserable.  But plaxa fiber, one of the plant fibers the Selani made clothes and tent fabric from, was perfect for her.  It breathed out the hot air and circulated cooler air in, keeping the mink Wikuni from overheating.  Tarrin was glad for that, for he didnt like seeing his friend uncomfortable.  Now that her troubles were off his mind, he, Haley, and Mist were studying the road with a practiced eye that told them much.  This road wasnt much used, and it hadnt seen rain in a while.  There were traces of cart tracks on it, as well as horses, sheep, cattle, dogs, and strange three-toed tracks with claws that reminded Tarrin of inu.  And most importantly to Tarrin, there were bootprints that were the size and shape a humans foot in a boot would have.
	Human, Mist announced.  Days old.
	Are you sure, my dear? Haley asked.
	Positive, she answered.  I can smell it from up here.  Humans.  Really smelly ones.
	Well, that answers one mystery, Dolanna said.  There are humans on this world.
	They seem to be everywhere.  Like rats, Mist grunted.
	Vermin, Sarraya agreed from Tarrins shoulder with an evil little smile at Ulger.
	Youre closer to the size of a rat than me, he answered with a smirk.  And you have eyes like a rat.
	Children, Dolanna said in a mild but firm voice.  Do the tracks go in the direction Kimmie went, or against it?
	In the same direction, Mist answered.
	Then let us be off.
	They travelled for about five hours, and Tarrin watched the empty sky start to show a front of clouds in the same direction as the sun seemed to be travelling towards the horizon.  If the weather here was anything like it was at home, then that meant that there was rain coming for this parched land, which was good.  Though the grass was green, the earth was dry, telling him that the grass was feeding from ground water that was still high enough for their roots to reach.  The land also seemed to start flattening, as the hills became gentler and gentler, and small stands of trees started to appear along hillsides and in shallow valleys through which the road was laid.
	It looks as if rain is moving this way, Haley announced.
	We have a few hours, Tarrin said calmly, looking back towards him as they crested a very low hill.
	It might not be an issue, Mist called, pointing.  He looked forward again and saw a small village nestled in the bottom of the valley.  If it could be called a village.  It was a small gathering of rude mud and thatch huts surrounded by a wall of blackened logs, but there was a stone building down there in the middle of the village, rectangular in shape and with a strange symbol on its top, two small steel spires that angled away from one another, rising up from the roof of the building at angles from the ground rather than straight up, then bent and turned towards the ground at right angles, ending about a fourth of the length as the upsweeping side.  There were farm fields surrounding the wall, literally right up against it, and there were humans toiling in those fields.  The road split off to cut through the fields into the village through a gate, as the other fork circled wide of the village and continued on the way it was going.  Tarrin peered at the humans in the field, and saw that they were dressed in rough homespun smocks and tunics, and often had either wrapped leather around their feet for shoes, at least those who had them.  They used battered, worn tools, a very rare few of them steel, and most others made of bone or simple wood.
	By the Goddess, Dolanna said.  These people dwell in such crude conditions!
	They look like Mahuut tribals from Valkar, Haley said.
	That stone building tells us that they are not as crude as first impressions suggest, Dolanna said after a moment of study.  Though the architecture is odd and the design is somewhat simplistic, these people have learned to work in stone.
	And steel, Haley added.
	Well, Kimmies trail goes down into the village, Tarrin said.  So I guess we need to go pay them a visit.
	Sarraya, kindly hide, Dolanna said.  Let us give no impression that we are more than we should appear.
	You got it, Dolanna, Sarraya said, even as her form shimmered and vanished.
	They started down towards the village slowly, and Tarrin reached into the pouch hanging from his saddle and withdrew the golden charm given to him by Spyder.  It exactly resembled a Weavespinners shaeram, and it needed to, for it was supposed to be affixed to the back of his and not be noticable.  These people probably spoke no language that they would understand, so he wanted to be ready.  Let me do the talking, he called as they approached.  The first villagers noticed them, and jumped up from their work in the fields to run through the gate of their crude wall, calling out.  Tarrin listened to them shouting, and affirmed that they were speaking in no language that he understood.  He affixed the charm to his amulet, and felt that odd surge of awareness rush through him, a heightening of sense of self and surroundings, an alertness imparted to him by the charm.  It also granted him the power to have hear any language and understand it, and have his words understood by any who heard them.  The only drawback to it was that he couldnt control that, and if he wanted to speak in a language that someone couldnt understand, he had to take the charm off.  Everyone who heard his voice would hear him seemingly speaking their own language, but for him, he heard their language as it sounded properly, but the charm gave him the ability to understand what they were saying.
	All work stopped as they drew near, and the villagers ran into the village.  Several men were visible at the top of the wall, holding hemp-stringed bows and arrows with steel arrowheads that flashed in the lowering sun.  Four men hurried out of the gate, three men in chainmail hauburks and carrying rusty swords, and a fourth in a pristine black cassock and a large gold medallion hanging from a thick gold chain around his neck.  This mans clothing was made of the finest wool, and he was clean and neat and just a little chubby, an aging man with a balding head of brown hair, a heavy, raw-boned face with a large nose and eyes that were small and set close together piggishly.  Tarrin took an immediate dislike for this man.  Why, he did not know, but he did.  There was just something about him that Tarrin found annoying, upsetting, wrong about him.  The man fidgeted a bit with his clothes, preening his balding pate of mousey hair that looked to be oiled down.  Tarrins casual eye swept over the three armed men, but the way they moved and the condition of their armor told him that they were no threat, so much so that even the sight of potentially dangerous, armed strangers didnt rouse the Cat within him.
	Tarrins large black stallion pulled to a stop not far from the men, more than enough space to kill them before they could reach him, then put both hands on his saddlepom and regarded them with a slightly chilly gaze.
	W-Welcome, my Lord, the man in the cassock said in an alien language, yet Tarrin could understand him clearly.  Welcome to the village of Astun.  Praise be to the One.
	Tarrin said nothing immediately, staring at the man and letting the silence unnerve him a bit.  It had the intended effect.  I have come from a distant land in search of two individuals, he said immediately.  One is a scatterbrained fellow with white hair, the other a slender woman with dark hair.  Both were on horses.  I know they passed by this village.  When did they pass?
	A-Are you a Hunter, my Lord? the man asked in awe.  Have you been chasing those two Defiled all this time?
	Defiled?  Explain your term.
	Why, they were Defiled, my Lord!  Evil!  One wasnt even human, and the other practiced witchcraft!
	Immediately, Tarrin switched to the unspoken manner of the Cat, a language which the charm would not translate into a form all could understand, because it was not a spoken language.  Mist, tell Miranda to keep that hood up, he said quickly.  They hate non-humans here.
	Mist relayed the command to Miranda, who nodded and carefully bowed her head without moving her hands.  To do so would have revealed her fur-clad hands to the man in the cassock.
	Do you know which way they went? he asked.
	Well, after my guards attacked them, they ran off to the south, along the road, my Lord Hunter, he answered.  That she-devil killed seven of my men!  Has the Church sent word of their replacements?
	I dont answer to the Church, he said calmly.  I seek those two for my own reasons.
	The man blanched, his face turning white.  Tarrin must have said something wrong, and he struggled quickly to figure out what it was.  Sure you didnt mean to blaspheme the One! the man said.
	No, I meant no such thing, he said, understanding.  I meant to say I seek those two for personal reasons, that Im not acting on the orders of the Church.  Im not a Hunter.
	Oh! he said, making an odd motion with his hand, rising his flat palm to his right shoulder and crossing it to his left.  Im sure He will forgive you for your mis-statement, my Lord.  He sighed.  I was hoping that you were carrying a reply from the Diocese.  My three men can barely keep these dullards in check.  Ive already had two of them try to escape.
	Too bad they didnt run fast enough, one of the guards snickered, glancing back into the village.
	Tarrin looked over their heads, at the stone building.  He realized it was some kind of temple, and there were two still forms impaled on wooden stakes outside of it.  They had been impaled through their backs, and from the condition of the bodies and the black bloodstains, they hadnt died immediately.  They had lingered for a long time, in agony as gravity dragged them further down the stakes, until loss of blood finally, mercifully, claimed them.
	Tarrins eyes flashed, and a sudden fury rose up in him.  These men were, were evil.  They had impaled those two for trying to escape, and let them die slowly and in hideous agony.  His fury was mixed with a kind of moralistic outrage he had not felt since going to Dala Yar Arak and seeing how the Arakites treated slaves.
	In a moment of utter clarity, almost as if the information were imparted to him by another, he understood.  This church ruled by terror, and only by terror did they keep their minions in check.  And from the sound of it, this church was large, was impressive, and ruled a very large area.  Despite him saying he was from a distant land, the man assumed that his church ruled it.  He spoke of a Diocese, meaning that they had divided up the land into sectors, and his talking about getting more men told him that he was but the end of a line of command.
	Tarrin was in a furor, and his sense of justice demanded that something be done.  Now.  He dismounted his horse and threw the reins in Haleys general direction, and stalked towards the men in a kind of dangerous walk that put the three guards at sudden unease.  Tarrin! Dolanna called.  She knew him well, and could tell just by watching him move that he had bloodshed on his mind.  Tarrin, do not!
	He didnt answer.  Tell me, priest, exactly what crime did those two commit that warranted such a painful death? he asked in a low, calm, deceptively dangerous manner that everyone behind him realized was a question that might sentence the one who answered it to death.
	The man looked at him suspiciously.  Does the Church do things differently where you come from, my Lord? he asked.   Its the standard punishment for a serf trying to escape.
	We dont have your Church where I come from, he answered coldly.  And if we did, Id have wiped it out long ago.
	The words hit the man like a slap in the face, and his chubby visage reddened up in sudden anger and outrage.  Youre Defiled! he said in understanding.  Kill him! he barked at the three men, then he started to chant in a language that even the charm could not decipher.  To Tarrins surprise, he was chanting in the language of the gods, the exact same language that Priests from his world used to cast spells!
	The three men drew their shortswords and advanced, but not confidently.  Tarrins stance and his expression showed an absolute and utter disregard for the three armed men, as if they were absolutely nothing, and that kind of towering confidence never failed to intimidate.
	He didnt even bother bringing out a weapon, because in that moment if intense, icy anger, he forgot himself and shapeshifted into his natural form.  He was so piqued that he he shifted into his true form, which included the wings, as they were now a natural part of him.  Those wings seemed to strike utter terror into the three armed men, but the chanting of the Priest behind them seemed to bolster them into making an assault.
	It was an assault doomed at its inception.  Even without his overwhelming strength, he was more than a match for three fearstruck humans.  The first one to reach him tried to thrust his shortsword through Tarrins belly, but the Were-cat simply slithered aside and turned his wing so its edge met the mans neck.  He altered the wing so that leading edge was sharper than a razor, which quite neatly decapitated the man as his own momentum carried him by.  He twirled around the dead man, shielding his demise from the other two, then slapped aside the thrusting blade of the second with one paw and took out his throat with the other, sending a glittering trail of blood in an arc away from his slashing paw as the man fell to the side, yanked out of his path by the power of Tarrins swipe.  He spread his feet and assumed his slouching battle stance, then roared furiously at the last living guard or soldier or whatever he was, snapping his wings out in a display of pure, naked power.  That display made the man falter in his charge, eyes wide and mouth agape, but he crumpled to the ground when an incensed Mist, her Illusion gone, hurtled in from his flank and savaged him with her Cats Claws, puncturing about every vital organ the man possessed faster than the human could react to the first blow.  She finished him by taking off his head with her five magical blades, sending five different pieces of head sailing off in the general direction of the path of her lethal blow.  A sudden fountain of blood erupted from the neatly severed stump of the mans neck, then the body toppled over stiffly, muscles locked in shock at losing the brains direction.
	The Priest managed to finish his spell, which was an accompishment when staring death in the face as he was, and a smoky haze appeared before him.  It solidified after a moment into an ugly little creature with reddish skin, gangly limbs covered with warts, and a large head with black eyes, a big, hooked nose and a mouth full of sharp little teeth.  Tarrin recognized the creature as a quasit, and it was the least of the many forms of Demonkind.
	Now he knew that this church has to be utterly evil, for its Priests called on Demons for assistance.
	Now you are dead! the man screamed in triumph.  Attack him! he commanded the quasit.
	But the qausit didnt move.  It trembled in absolute terror when it looked upon Tarrin, for it could see what the Priest could not, and it fully understood just who, and what, Tarrin was.
	The Priest looked on his servant with shock, then actually kicked it in the rump. I said attack him! he ordered.
	It actually wasnt a bad idea.  Only Wizard magic, Priest magic, or weapons alien to this world would harm a Demon, but unfortunately for the Priest, he didnt know that Tarrin possessed all three of those weapons.  Had Tarrin been a regular, mundane mortal of this world, he would be utterly defenseless against the quasit, despite the fact that it was the weakest of its kind, with virtually no magic of its own.
	Still advancing, Tarrin closed his paw on empty air, and his black-bladed sword was summoned from the elsewhere.  Tarrins eyes exploded from within with the greenish radiance that marked his anger, and licks of flame appeared around the fetlocks of his wrists and ankles.  The quasit squealed in terror at the sight of him, and ran around behind the Priest to hide behind his ankles, quivering and clicking its teeth as they chattered.  Hes mine, Mist, he called coldly as his mate stalked up on the man with murder in her eyes.  She glanced at him with annoyance, but stopped, waiting with dreadful eagerness.  Your Demon sees what you cant, human, he said scathingly.  I can kill your quasit without even breaking my stride.
	Flee, master! the quasit said in a creepy, soulless voice.  He is an Avatar!  You face a god!
	There are no gods but the One! the man shrieked hysterically.  Destroy him, or I will send you back to Hell!
	Then do so! the quasit said defiantly.  Better to be sent back than exiled for one hundred years!
	This put the Priest in an obvious quandary.  His best weapon against his attacker refused to obey.  He swept his piggish eyes over them, then grinned suddenly.  Then attack that inhuman Defiled! he said, pointing at Mist.  Kill his servants!
	This seemed to be a command that the quasit would obey.  It skittered out from behind the Priest and launched itself into the air, giving out a keening cry.  Tarrin simply put the flat side of his blade on his shoulder and watched, for Mist was in no danger at all.  She knew it too, for she simply stepped into that pounce, then speared the quasit on all ten blades of her Cats Claws when it reached her.  It gave out a gurgling cry of surprise, then she flung it aside contemptuously, where it immediately started to decay into that hideous black ichor that burned and ate away at the tilled ground like acid.  Mist plunged the ten tines of her magical weapons into the ground to clean the Demon blood off of them, then retracted them and moved away from the growing cloud of noxious smoke rising over the dead Demon.  Mist, he called in a reasonable tone.  Keep him from getting away, and dont let him cast any more spells.  I have an idea, and Im going to need him alive for it.
	My pleasure, my mate, she said with a ghastly look of anticipation.
	The Priest, who understood what he said, blanched, and then turned to flee back into the village.  She bounded after him, and caught him before he took ten steps.  Though she was weakened by this alien world, she was still very, very strong, stronger than him, and she used that strength to grab hold of his neck.  He snapped to a stop by that grip, his legs coming out from under him as they tried to continue moving forward.  Mist punched him heavily in the middle of his back, knocking the air out of him, then stomped on the side of his foot.  There was an audible crack as her blow on the awkwardly set limb broke his ankle, and another crack when she kicked him on the inside of the knee of his other leg, doing some serious damage to it.  She yanked him back a little and then elbowed him in the side of his face, breaking his jaw and cheekbone with a blow that sent two teeth and a long line of blood flying from the mans mouth.  She turned and dragged him back to Tarrin, then dropped him unceremoniously on the ground in front of her mate.  The Priest started sobbing, rolling over on his belly, then he tried to crawl away with his injured legs, but Mist planted her foot in the small of his back and slammed him to the ground, and held him there to keep him from getting away.
	Would you explain why you did that? Dolanna said hotly.  This is not what I expected from our first meeting with these people, Tarrin!
	The fat one conjured a Demon, Dolanna, Haley said in a mild tone.  I dont think he really needs to explain.  Thats explanation enough.
	She gave Haley a withering look, then she blinked and chuckled a bit ruefully.  You make a point, old friend, she admitted.
	Hes a Priest, Miranda said clinically.  But a Priest who summons Demons?  I didnt think that was possible.  Only Wizards can summon 