Malcolm and Morven locked eyes, shock sliding into raw terror as they followed the fading afterimage Jared’s casual stroke had carved into the dust.

Only then did they understand what he had meant when he said the fight could end whenever he wished.

It hadn’t been a boast.

It was a statement of physics.

Jared tipped his chin toward them.
“Your turn.”

The words were calm, almost idle. Yet the instant they landed, both men shrank as if an ice cellar had opened beneath their feet.

“Impossible—absolutely impossible!” Morven screamed, his voice shredding itself against the cavern walls. Spittle flew as he raged. “Tricks! Sorcery! Smoke—you’re faking it! Die for me!”