Mitchell’s face hardened from bored to cold and calculating. He whipped his flail around overhead a few times in a nice display for the crowd.
The chain was no more than two feet, but she needed to account for the handle and his reach too if she wanted to stay out of striking distance. Her own short sword would not provide much protection. It was a close quarters weapon, and she doubted she would get the opportunity to get near him.
He swung it — more like flung it — at her, and she narrowly avoided the head of the spiked ball as it whizzed past her nose.
In unison, the crowd sucked in a deep audible breath.
Mira ducked the next swing but wasn’t prepared for the recoil. Mitchell quickly backstroked with the weapon and whipped it back in Mira’s direction. Even with her supernatural spee
