"Drop your weapon!" Modred commanded the other cop.

"Are you crazy? What the hell are you doing?"

"I said, drop your weapon! Now!"

Only the cop didn't drop his weapon. He raised it and aimed, holding it steady with both hands. "Forget

it, Cornwall," he said. "I don't know what game you're playing here, but it won't work."

"I said, drop it!"

"Not a chance," the cop said, shaking his head. He kept his gun trained on them. "You ain't gonna shoot.

You're bluffing."

"Your partner won't appreciate it if you call my bluff," said Modred.

"You shoot my partner, I shoot you. Simple as that."

"Not quite," Modred replied. His eyes suddenly flared with blue light and twin beams of thaumaturgic

energy shot out from them, striking the cop's gun. The man cried out and dropped it, doubling over and

clutching his burned hands to his stomach. His gun fell to the street, a molten lump of useless metal.

Modred shoved the officer named Al away from him, covering him with his own gun. "I can't afford to

waste any more energy on the likes of you," he said. He raised the pistol. "You give me any more trouble

and I'll put one in your leg."

He moved over to the patrol car and checked to see that the key was in it.

"You won't get away with this, Cornwall," Al said. "I don't know what in hell you think you're doing, but

you're not gonna get away with it."

"Your partner is going to need medical attention for those burns," said Modred. "I'm sorry, but I had no

choice. He's a good man. He was quite right not to give up his gun. Only he should have taken the shot."

He got into the car.

"You ain't no cop," said Al. "Who the hell are you?"

"Believe it or not, Al," said Modred, "I'm on your side. Though at times, I find that rather difficult to

believe myself."

He drove away and left the two cops in the street.