Summon Blackstaff

"As long as there's some carpet to scuff your feet on," he said, and tossed me his staff. "Here."
I felt the energies moving through the implement at once. It was a better-made staff than mine, but Ebenezar had been the one to teach me how they were made, and both staves I had used over the years had been carved from branches of the lightning-struck oak in the front yard of his little farm in the Ozarks. I could make use of this staff almost as well as if it were my own.
"What about you?" I asked him. "Don't you want it?"
He batted a precisely aimed thrown ax from the air with a flick of his hand and a word of power, and drawled, "I got another one."
Ebenezar McCoy extended his left hand and spoke another word, and darkness swirled from the shadows and condensed into a staff of dark, twisted wood, unmarked by any kind of carving whatsoever.
The Blackstaff.


Changes Chapter 46, Page 492