I followed more slowly, lowering myself branch to branch with shaky arms and legs. Blood poured from the torn place on my chest, but the worst part of the pain seemed to come from further inside, something grinding and shifting when I moved.
From below I could hear a storm of snarls, shouts, and clashing metal. I reached the ground and turned to see Braith wrench Owain’s sword from his hand and strike him across the face with its hilt.
Owain stumbled back, swung a fist at Braith, received another hit for his trouble—it soon dissolved into a chaos of kicks and blows, with Owain mostly on the losing end.
Owain fell at last, spitting blood into the dust, and Braith regarded him coolly a moment before kicking him in the belly.
Tristan’s face caught my eye, white and sick, tears shining on
