Sairant lunged. He didn't have a warrior's steel—only his heavy kitchen knives. He threw his weight between them, the blunt force of his intervention knocking Luavier back and forcing Morgant's fan wide.
Sairant grabbed Luavier by the collar, dragging his limp body toward the weapon rack as Morgant reset his stance. They collapsed against the wood, slowly, Luavier pushed himself up, his good arm trembling, as Sairant rose beside him.
"Wha—what is the meaning of this..."
Sairant wheezed. His voice trembled, thick with shock and the agony.
"...Councilor Morgant?"
Morgant didn't answer with words. He snapped his blade fan open, the metal ribs clicking into a lethal crescent that he used to mask the lower half of his face. Above the steel, his eyes flashed with the unmistakable hunger of a killer.
