He found himself shoulder to shoulder with Audra, who shot him a challenging glare. ‘Tell me to go back to my books, Hawthorne, I dare you.’ In spite of himself, Wilder laughed, a madman’s laugh. ‘I wouldn’t dream of it,’ he replied, cutting down an opponent. ‘Glad to have you. Sometimes I forget the warrior you were.’ Audra slayed one man, then another, blood spraying. ‘There’s no forgetting who we truly are, Warsword.’
