“How dare you…”

“We could,” Tessanna said, offering him a flirty smile back. “But as I told your dead men, you’d die the moment you touched my flesh.”

The charming smile faltered.

“So be it,” he said. He snapped his fingers. The men around him reached back and pulled out loaded crossbows from behind the lion statues. Qurrah tensed, his knuckles white.

“No one insults me,” Tory said, the dagger in his hand twirling so fast it was a metallic blur. “No one.”

Before the men could fire, Qurrah tossed the bones into the air. Dark power flowed from his hands, giving them life. The pieces hovered in a small circle, shining a phantom gray.

“You cannot win this,” Qurrah said, his fingers outstretched. “Put down the bows and I will let you live.”

“They’re scared,” Tessanna said. Her hands remained at her side, and she appeared bored of the situation. “They’re scared so they threaten.”

“Then let’s remove their ability to threaten,” Qurrah whispered. He formed a fist, igniting the power of the bones. The shards flew through the air, aimed straight for the crossbows. They punched holes in the wood, broke the fingers that held them, and snapped the strings. A couple fired, but the shots were erratic. Qurrah opened his hand once more. Half of the bone pieces returned, hovering before his face.

“Do you think your swords will kill me?” he asked. “Do you think you will get close enough to try?”

A few men grabbed their daggers but Tory waved them off.

“You may cross,” the man said. “You are the stronger, without question.” He gave one last longing look at Tessanna. “A shame, too.”

The group of men parted, granting the couple passage.

“The western bridge is not far,” Tory said as they passed. “My men will let you through without hassle. Try not to keep them waiting.”

Qurrah grabbed Tessanna’s arm and walked across the bridge, silent.