Her hand twitched toward her weapons, but fell again to her sides. What was the point? He wasn't wrong. It was on top of her mind to just keep going, let her master and the other villagers think she'd perished on her quest.
But you can't outrun fate, no matter how hard you might try.
"Cowardly Kaj, truth hurts, doesn't it?" He taunted. "You escaped punishment then, but don't worry your pretty head. I've come to fix that. I've been waiting for you." A tiny skull dropped from his hand, a dead infant. It took several horrified moments for her to notice the rusty red hair wrapped around the eye sockets. HER hair.
Her gaze shot back to Jola, but he was right there, next to her, clawed hands around her arm. Green, black and red magic surrounded them in a storm of wind and pain. She may have screamed, she couldn't hear herself above the yowl of the storm. Then her world narrowed to the pain coursing through her blood.
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