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The soldiers had responded as Rowan
anticipated, and he’d killed them accordingly.
Birds of prey dove for him, attacking with
wind and ice from above. He shattered their
magic with a surge of his own, sending them
scattering.
A cluster of warriors charged from behind
a row of tents.
Some beheld him and ran back the way
they’d come. All soldiers whom he’d trained.
And some he hadn’t. Yet many stayed to fight.
Rowan ripped through their shields, ripped
the air from their lungs. Some found his
hatchet swinging for their necks.
Close. So close to that tent. He would
signal Lorcan and Gavriel in a moment. When
he was close enough to need the diversion for
the way out.
Another onslaught of soldiers barreled for
him, and Rowan angled his long knife. His