As Lyra listened, flames of fury ignited behind her usually cool eyes. A chill surged from her body that made even the air recoil.
"Parasites!" she hissed, sweeping a lethal glare across the cowed crowd. "You poison the very air of this sect. You will not walk away today!"
Her sword rang free, silver light streaking like a meteor across midnight. She moved, one moment beside Jared, the next a phantom weaving through the guilty. Steel flashed, each strike deliberate, merciless, final.
Clive, Trevor, and the others found themselves pinned by an invisible pressure, limbs refusing to obey even the instinct to flee.
Heartbeats later, they lay sprawled and broken, blood blooming across the courtyard stones like dark flowers after rain.
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