CHAPTER TWENTY SIX
The Master of Crows advanced on the small group of his enemies, repeating his demand.
“There are only so many times that I will ask for the child before I simply take it,” he said. “That I have not done so should tell you that I wish it no harm.”
“Her,” the would-be king, Sebastian, said. “Violet is not an ‘it.’”
“If you do not hand the child over, none of you will be anything,” he said. “I will order my men forward, and they will slaughter each and every one of you. Then I will have the child anyway.”
“Then why don’t you?” one of the newcomers demanded. Not the one who was still grieving over the man he’d cut down, the other one. The one who’d managed to confuse him with mirror images to get them even this far. “If you could really do all that, I think you’d do it.
