CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Kyra stared back at the oaf confronting her, this foreigner with his low forehead, wide body and black eyes, smiling creepily at her, his sharpened teeth showing.
“You have no one to protect you,” he said to her. “Do not struggle: it will only make it worse for you.”
Kyra forced herself to breathe, to focus, drawing all the intensity she had when in battle. Inside, her heart was thumping, fire pumping in her veins, as she prepared herself for the confrontation of her life.
“If anyone needs protection,” Kyra replied boldly, “it is you. I shall give you one chance to step out of my way, before you learn what the people of Escalon are made of.”
The oaf stared back and blinked in shocked silence.
Then a moment later, he began laughing, a coarse, ugly sound, and all his
