CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The debris-strewn square emptied almost as fast as it had filled. Nobody wanted to risk an encounter with the soldier-priests of Set. Phoenix and Jade found themselves alone about twenty paces away from where Marcus stood. Phoenix briefly wondered where Brynn was, only to dismiss the boy as a coward for running with the crowd.
He gripped Blódbál’s hilt and revelled in the rush of power surging into his body. Gone was the post-poison weakness; gone the fleeting worry he’d felt about facing those toxic blades again. He knew what to expect now. They were no match for Blódbál.
He drew the sword. The metal slickered, loud in the tense silence of the night. Two of the priests turned their bows on him. Phoenix smiled as the air before them shimmered faintly purple-blue
