The woman had twined her fingers together and was making heart palpitation gestures over her own chest.
"I don't know her," Bettina added, "but it seems she definitely knows me."
Morgana replied, "That is the reason I will never have foresight. She's Nix, a Valkyrie soothsayer. Has high hopes that the Sorceri will join with the Vertas side for this Accession." Morgana snorted at that.
The impending Accession would pit all immortals against each other, and battle lines were already being drawn. Pravus against Vertas. . . .
Raum and Cas returned then, both looking irritated.
"It's time," Raum muttered. Pausing only for a deep draft from his tankard, he raised his hands for everyone's attention. "Tonight is the battle you've all been waiting for! The semifinals, the death match without equal, an event to go down in history!"
Sporadic cheers sounded.
"First we have Gourlav, the Father of Terrors, king of hell planes untold!"
Gourlav emerged from the sanctum, stomping into the ring. Fearful whispers carried throughout the crowd. More than one family eased even farther up the stands.
The primordial had sharpened all six of his oversize horns for this event. Pointed tips jutted from his head, shoulders, and the backs of his elbows. Again, chains crisscrossed his chest, bulky metal strapped over his roughened toadlike skin. His yellow eyes were devoid of all feeling. His chin tusks looked like a dirty, fossilized beard.
This is what Morgana and Raum expect me to marry?
Raum continued, "Next we have the Prince of Shadow, hailing from lands unknown!"
Daciano stalked into the ring, his strides long and sure. His bearing was ice-cold, no hint of nerves or emotion.
A killing machine.
Cas muttered, "Never thought I would be pulling for the vampire."
Morgana murmured, "I'd sully him so hard. . . ."
As ever, Daciano was simply dressed. Black leather pants encased powerful legs. His black long-sleeved shirt molded close over his brawny chest.
The combatants had each been allowed one weapon. Gourlav grasped a sword that looked about seven feet long, and Daciano held-
A staff?
"Where's his sword?" Bettina's voice scaled an octave higher as she asked, "Is that a . . . that isn't a walking staff?"
Under his breath, Raum said, "What's the vampire thinking?"
Cas sounded stunned. "Bringing a stick to a sword fight?"
For some reason, Morgana gave a delighted laugh. "The weapon." In an ah-ha! tone, she cried, "The Ever-Knowing One!"
Again, whatever that meant. Daciano had said he wouldn't strike-except for the kill strike. How exactly did he intend to kill with a staff?
Dear gods, my vampire is going to die.
The gate clanged shut behind the competitors. With an uneasy glance at the squadron of soldiers posted outside the ring, Raum signaled for the horn.
And there wasn't a damn thing Bettina could do to help Trehan Daciano.
The horn was still sounding when Gourlav made his first strike against Trehan, tracing with unfathomable speed.
The primordial sliced his long sword through the air even before his body had fully materialized.
Trehan leapt back, twisting his torso to avoid the sword tip by inches. Can't block it. He had to remember not to wield the staff as he would a sword. Had to remember to ignore all his training.