Delve

Jamus’s heart thundered in his chest, the tension of the fight a distant memory. When he’d seen Lavarro through the scope, there had been room for doubt, even as he’d convinced himself of the truth his eyes had seen. Now, there was not even that. The clothes were different, and the way she wore her hair, but her face...

Well, except for the smile. It looked almost kind.

“First question,” Lavarro-not-Lavarro began, tilting her head. “Who are you?”

“You...don’t know?” Jamus managed.

“Obviously not?” Lavarro said. Her voice was the same, but her accent, inflection, and manner were all different.

Is she pretending? Should we play along?

Breaking through the shock, Jamus’s mind settled back into the hyper-focus of combat. The battle was not over—or, rather, a new one had begun. The exchanges would be not of claw and magic, but of words, with death no further to hand for the difference.

While revealing as little as possible of themselves, they’d need to first ascertain who or what ‘Dominus Anya’ was and what she wanted. Without that knowledge, every answer they gave risked utter disaster. All the more important, then, that he—

Staavo stepped smartly forward, then slammed a fist to his chest in a salute. “Adamant Unbending. These lowly ones before you are but humble trainees. Thank Potentate Vannon that you arrived, Dominus, for after we were separated from our group—“