Matthew whirled, white-faced. “Run, Cordelia,” he said. She hesitated—just as a Roman soldier bearing a gladius lurched around the corner. He made straight for her, and without a moment’s thought, Matthew stepped into its way. He raised his seraph blade, and the stone gladius slammed into it, sending him skidding back several feet. Cordelia started toward him, and so did Thomas, but it was as if the statues sensed blood—Britannia bore down on him, raising her spear— Something lunged into Matthew, knocking him out of the way. The spear jammed into the wall just behind where he’d been standing,
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