“Curran looked at me. “What the hell was I supposed to do, catch the werebison as he was falling?”

“As he passed me, he leaned to Curran and handed him a paper fan folded from some sort of flyer.Curran looked at the fan. “What?”"An emergency precaution, Your Majesty. In case the lady faints.”Curran just stared at him.Raphael strode toward the Pit, turned, flexed a bit, and winked at me."Give me that,” I told Curran. “I need to fan myself.”"No, you don’t.”

“Distract him? What the hell was I supposed to do? Strip naked and do the hula?”

“Catch me if I fall?”

“Curran scrutinized Mart’s face. “I can’t figure out if he wants to kill you or screw you.”“I’ll be glad to make the choice for him.”Curran looked back at me. “Why is it you always attract creeps?”“You tell me.” Ha! Walked right into that one, yes, he did.”

“What is he doing here?" Curran growled."He's Roland's Warlord. He's here for me." He was here for the woman who had broken his master's blade."Tough luck. You're mine.”