Phantom, Chapter Seven, The Queen’s Duels, Round One
Silas flipped the rapier’s handle back and forth in his hand, letting the weight of the sword catch against the air. His first duel of the afternoon would begin in only a few minutes’ time, and yet he couldn’t get the fae’s voice out of his mind.
He sat on the long bench and bounced his ankle and knee. By what magical gifting would someone gain the ability to not only conjure spectral knives but possess telepathic speech as well? Were such gifts common in the Serra Valley?
Silas scowled out at the dusty commons of the fighting rings as though the answer to his question hid just beneath the imported sands and leather ropes. Instead, the answers waited behind the scarlet gaze of his enemy’s courtesan.
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