Ciaran tasted blood. Then he opened his eyes. Brenna was on her feet, sword drawn, one man dead at her feet while another circled, sword and shield at the ready. Enemy soldiers had surrounded their little camp, and Ciaran could hear screams in the trees. He heard the zip of arrows and knew Niamh was live and kicking.
He pushed himself up to his knees, reached for his sword, but another man swung at him, and he dove out of the way, rolled to his feet.
He curled his fist, ready to cast fire - but they were in the trees.
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