“How long can you stand, fool, without your bungling guardian” the Centurion taunted pitilessly, having so injured Mardan that he could not regain his feet or return to the mirror. Turning his head, Gairynzvl looked behind him to assess the situation, but upon seeing the Celebrant lying on his side against the wall, only semi-conscious and bleeding profusely, he grimaced worriedly. His crimson gaze moved to Ayla who was crying bitterly, but who had not abandoned her station before the face of the mirror. Their gazes locked for a brief moment, their thoughts mingling in a torrent of apprehension that needed no words and as a result of their wordless communication he knew she would not move to Mardan"s side and leave him unprotected, regardless of her desperate desire to do so.
Turning back
