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Vol.7, Ch.5, P.1

“Ye know,” spoke Raakel above the blazes about, “I might’ve been ’bidin’ this moment. Fer long; fer years, I feels.”

Framed by fumes and fire, the Owlcrane fixed her flickering eyes upon me. And as it swayed in the sweltering air, her hair seemed like a blaze, and even a depiction of her spitfire spirit besides. So had some before me noted, and only too aptly, as I now saw for myself.

“What? To finally measure arms with me?” I said.

“Measure arms? Hah! Sotted off yer own piss, eh, me silly li’l swain? No, this’ll scarce be a scuffle—just me smearin’ yer guts ’cross the ground,” snarled Raakel, her wrath rising with every word, the fingers of her gaze strangling ever more tightly its very sight of me. “Now make yer peace swift, ye weak