Ronan hit the first attacker before I fully registered movement, brutal and efficient, while I grabbed a fallen weapon from the ground and turned to face the second, adrenaline overriding whatever fear might otherwise have paralyzed me completely.
Mabel emerged from the archive room's inner chamber mid fight, blood dripping from a shallow cut along her temple but otherwise upright, wielding a blade with surprising skill for a woman I had only ever seen handling herbs and ancient texts.
They're after the binding ritual pages, she gasped, ducking beneath a swing from the third attacker before Ronan finished him off with brutal finality. I've hidden the originals, but they found copies, transcriptions I made for Cole's research.
Where are they now, Ronan demanded.
Mabel's expression turne
