Rory had injured something vital during my stay as her captive. Not the most auspicious way to begin a fight to the death. My breath came out with a strange whistling tone, and it hurt to draw air in. At a minimum, I had broken ribs. Probably a broken nose, too. My stomach felt suspiciously tender, and a quick glance down revealed a disturbing pattern of bruising.

Internal bleeding, no doubt.

I didn’t know how I’d beat her. My magic was still there, but felt more like a ...