Either Greta was having hallucinations of what she wished would happen in her last moments, or Dayne had done something to enhance his strength. The two men rolled toward the flames, then away again. Simon caught fire, and they rolled together to dampen it. Suddenly, Dayne flew back. Simon’s hand was held out in front of him, and green energy crackled from his fingertips. He wiped a bloody nose with his other hand. Dayne’s lip was cut, but he chuckled. “Learned a few tricks since our last meeting?” “Coming to save the girl, Dayne? You really are pathetic. You should trade up for some shiny armor. I could give you mine if you’d like. It’s just collecting rust at my house.” “I’m here for my blood. That’s all.” Simon shrugged. “Well, there’s plenty of it.” He gestured toward Greta. She’d become listless, no longer struggling, as the blood flowed out of her into the moat around the altar.
