22
Dust and gravel kicked up behind the two jeeps headed down the unpaved road toward the commandery. Magic itched in the center of Gwin’s palms at the approach of Malegant and his goons. Memories of what they’d done churned inside her gut. The feeling was instantly cooled as Lance laced his fingers with hers.
With his other hand, Lance freed his sword from its adorned hiding place. He turned to Darvill. “Is there any other way out of here?”
“You want to run?” Sir Darvill’s tone was indignant. “I’ll stand and face my adversaries.”
“And put a witch’s life in danger? She is our priority.”
That brought the elderly knight up short. Already, Malegant’s men had parked in front of the church and were filing out of their vehicles. Darvill looked left and right, just as Gwin had already done.
