Nineteen
“We’re not running a bloody day-care here, Fairy!”
When the woman spoke, spittle flew, dotting Brice’s face. She glared at him, but he stood firm—this woman wanted to see weakness, so that was the one thing he could not give her.
“I thought he’d be useful.” Deva’s voice was quiet, soon lost in this large cavern. “You should’ve seen him fight, Siren. And he killed a demon!”
The woman—Siren—grunted, lip turning up in a sneer. “Yet we found no weapons on him, apart from these things.” She held up his two knives, still in their sheathes.
Brice had been forced to hand them in, after Deva had led him round the back of a thorny bush by a rock-face, and into the cave the foliage hid. She’d whispered a code-word, and a metal door had swung open. The two people behind it, one mal
