Daian stares back at him quizzically, opening his mouth to question Grath further. The words are literally choked from him as a strong arm appears around his neck, quickly cinching against his throat. At the same time, the blade of a dagger enters his back just above his right kidney. Daian arches his spine with his head thrown back and mouth agape in surprise. He raises his own dagger and the arm around his neck relents, a gloved hand taking hold of his wrist to restrain it.

Kamala’s Cyclops face appears in the corner of his eye, grinning in sadistic satisfaction.

“You chose the wrong friends,” she whispers in his ear. “And you ask too many questions. The Protectorate Ministry doesn’t like that.”

Kamala forces another half inch of steel into his back, and Daian groans through painfully clenched teeth. He tries to wrest his upended dagger free, but Kamala’s grip is too unyielding and the blade piercing his body seems to be draining all his strength. Trembling, Daian tilts his head forward and opens his mouth wide, biting down around the pommel of his dagger’s handle.

He doesn’t see Kamala’s expression change or her eyes slit in confusion. Daian jerks his head and the pommel snaps free of the rest of the dagger’s handle. The pommel is revealed to be a tiny dagger of its own, its short triangular blade concealed inside the handle of Daian’s larger knife. He clenches his jaw tight around the pommel, the blade attached to it extending from his lips like a steel tongue. Kamala’s hands remain occupied restraining him and keeping Daian’s knife hand at bay. He twists his neck and cranes his head back as far as their struggle will allow. Kamala’s eyes widen in realization a second before Daian drives his head forward and pushes the blade clenched between his teeth through her throat.

Her eyes stretch even wider as a single ribbon of blood escapes around the stubby blade. Daian unclenches his jaw, releasing the pommel. Kamala lets loose his restrained wrist without thinking and presses her gauntleted hand against her throat and around the small dagger embedded there. Blood begins to pour between her fingers in thick, deep crimson spurts.

Daian shrugs himself free of her. Kamala’s grip loosens around the handle of her dagger, its blade remaining in Daian’s back as he collapses forward onto his knees. She looks past him at Grath, whose perfectly shaped eyes are wide in abject shock. Kamala tries to speak as she staggers back several steps, but she loses consciousness before she can force out the words. She collapses onto her back, the blood continuing to drain from the deep gash through her neck and throat.