“Power,” Ciaran echoed. That’s what he was - a half-human monster filled with killing firepower. He let his sword slip from his grasp, and he turned away from the shore littered with bodies, from the men huddled around their boats seeing to their dead.
“It can’t have been that simple,” Brenna said. She stepped up beside him and gazed out at the flames. “One battle wouldn’t deter them.”
“How would you know that?” Ciaran asked. “Were you one of them?”
“No. I’m all wrong - wrong color, size. Wrong language. Name.”
“But their magic - I saw it. It’s just like yours.”
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