Razik’s smile was sharp. “Eliza’s been dying to spill some blood.” “I have not,” she scoffed, but that was excitement in her eyes as she drew her sword. “Where did you get that?” Xan asked, eyes wide and fixed on her blade. She smirked at Razik. “I was faster than a dragon and won it.” “By mere seconds,” he snarled. “It’s still mine,” she tossed back. “If I take out more guards in the next few minutes, I get to use it in the next fight,” Razik said, sauntering past her and drawing a blade from his magic. “Deal,” she replied eagerly, darting past him.
