She rolled to avoid Avaunt’s blade, somersaulted back and came up in a crouch. She sprang at Avaunt and they wrestled, firing headbutts at each other. Avaunt’s grip loosened and Tanith snatched the sword away and turned and an elbow cracked into her jaw.

Tanith fell straight back. She hit the carpet and lay there. A hazy image grew sharper. Avaunt, standing over her with energy crackling in her hand.

The door opened behind her and the target, a bald man with broad shoulders, stepped out. Avaunt spun, fired a bolt of energy that he twisted his body to avoid. The energy scorched the wall over his right shoulder, but he remained calm. He looked bored, even.

Avaunt grabbed her sword and leaped, swinging for his neck. The bald man closed his fingers round the blade.

Avaunt froze and Tanith stared. That sword should have cut through his hand like it wasn’t even there. Instead the blade was locked in place, like it had embedded itself in a tree trunk. And there wasn’t even any blood.

Furiously, Avaunt tried pulling the sword away, but the bald man took it from her hands and tightened his grip and the blade shattered. She rammed a fist into his side, but it was she who grunted in pain. She kicked at his knee and her foot bounced off. She kicked him between the legs and he didn’t even raise an eyebrow.

Avaunt stepped away, her eyes wide. She curled her fingers and energy crackled, and she jumped at him and he reached out, grabbed her throat and squeezed. Above the singing there was a strange sound, a cross between a snap and a pop, and Avaunt fell lifeless to the carpet.

The bald man was already looking at Tanith. “Who sent her?” he asked.

Tanith struggled to her feet. “I don’t know. I heard from a guy who heard a rumour. I just knew that someone with some connection to the Irish Sanctuary was going to be targeted here tonight. Do you know of anyone who’d want you dead?”

His eyes were a startling blue. “I have many enemies,” he said. “It may have been one of them. It may have been my sister. What’s your name?”

“Tanith,” she said. “Tanith Low.”

“Thank you, Tanith. You risked your life to save mine.”

She picked up her sword, returned it to its scabbard. “Pardon me, but I don’t think your life needed saving.”

“You weren’t to know that,” said the bald man. “You had better leave, however, before a member of staff appears.”

“Yeah,” said Tanith, and turned to go.

“Do you know who she was?” asked the bald man.

She looked back. “Her name was Avaunt. We trained together.”

“I see. Was she your friend?”

Tanith hesitated. “The closest thing I had to one.”

18