“Step forward, please.”
Foe frowned. “I’m sorry?”
“There are five circles drawn on the floor in front of you. Each of you pick a circle and step into it.”
“We’re not going to—”
“Mr Foe, I’m sure I don’t have to remind you that I am a personal guest of Grand Mage Ravel’s, and that he has instructed you to do whatever I ask.”
Foe’s merry band of mercenaries glanced at each other uneasily. Except for Samuel. Samuel just kept his eyes on China. Even as they all stepped into the circles, his eyes never left her.
“Thank you,” China said, as she stood up and tapped the sigil on her elbow.
The circles lit up and their bodies went rigid, eyes bulging, fingers curled as pain seized control.
“I could kill you all with another tap of my finger,” China said, walking between them. “You dare to hunt me? You dare to make an attempt on my life? Do you even know who I am? Do you know the things I have done? I’m sure I cannot even begin to comprehend the audacity with which you thought that my life would be quashed by the likes of you. In all your years on this planet not one of you has done anything to deserve the right to kill me. Not you, Mr Foe, and not one of your pathetic, mewling little band of killers.”
Her finger hovered by her elbow. One twitch would be all it took, and the pain would rise so suddenly their hearts would burst. Instead, she flattened her hand and brushed it over her elbow, and the circles stopped glowing and the mercenaries dropped, gasping, to their knees.