Fenne's grin was more than a little unnerving but she tried not to show that it bothered her. "Bring your sword and you'll get a chance to find out." He turned and gestured for Tammy to follow.

"What's the deal?" asked Tammy.

"You'll find out," said Fenne, calling back over one shoulder.

With Kovac walking beside her they headed towards the domed temple at the rear of the compound. Three mercenaries fell in beside Kovac, two feral-looking women dressed in hunting leathers and a tall pale-skinned Yerskani man with a shaven head. Kovac nodded amicably at them but he said nothing. Tammy wasn't sure if they were there as Kovac's back-up, or to make sure she followed Fenne to the temple.

"How good are you with a sword?" asked Kovac in a whisper. His lips were barely moving and he kept staring straight ahead.

"Better than average."

"I hope you're a lot better than that. He'll offer you a new deal. Beat one of his men in return for your freedom."

"Sounds fair, if he honours it."

Kovac frowned but didn't look at her. "It's rigged. His champion is lethal with a blade. Best I've ever seen. He'll also stretch it out, make it entertaining and bloody. Fenne always wants a show."

Tammy wasn't sure why Kovac was helping her, and putting himself at risk in the process, but she was grateful. In this sort of situation where she was the outsider, she needed a guide.

As they approached the temple more people joined the party in front of them, streaming out of the long buildings. Some were locals being herded along by mercenaries until Tammy was following a crowd of at least sixty people.

"Anything else I should know?" she asked.

"The best way to get out of this alive is to make Fenne happy. Even if you're winning, make it look good."

The temple had been devoted to the Blessed Mother and once it had been beautiful. Now the doors had been ripped off and probably burned for fuel. The walls were painted with colourful frescos but were now covered with layers of grime, soot and dust, blown in from outside until they were no longer recognisable. All she could see was a face here or pair of hands there amid the muck.

Inside there were no chairs or benches, and half of the floor had been converted into a shanty town of tents where a crowd of smelly, dirty people slept in cramped and unhygienic conditions. The smell of so many unwashed bodies crammed into such a tight space made her gag. Every face was thin and their bodies bordered on the skeletal. Many just lay on pallets or directly on the tiled floor, staring at her with huge eyes. Tammy knew that disease would come hand in hand with famine in such a desperate place.

The other half of the temple was completely clear except for a large circle that had been marked on the floor. At first Tammy thought it was ash or paint, but when she got closer it became clear the substance was dried blood.

The assembled onlookers began to file around the edges of the circle. All of them were careful not to step too close to the line. There was only one chair, a wicker monstrosity filled with cushions, which Fenne sat down in, surrounded by his group of flunkies. The crowd fell silent and the Morrin gestured for her to step into the circle.

"To earn your freedom, all you have to do is beat someone of my choosing. That's the deal." Fenne made it sound so easy.

"I have a counter offer, since you broke our first deal," said Tammy.

The silence in the temple grew oppressive, but she'd waited until this moment to pursue her grievance. Even though he ruled by fear it would become more difficult to maintain control if they knew he couldn't keep his word.

"Pick whoever you want and I'll fight them," said Tammy. "But in return I want my freedom and I want a servant of my own. You have plenty to spare."

Fenne threw back his head and laughed. Those around him smiled as well, easing their hands away from weapons.

"Of course," insisted Fenne. "One less mouth to feed would be a blessing, yes? It's a deal. So, do you want your sword back, or will it be knives?"

Tammy's grin made a few mercenaries twitch. "Neither. Let's make this interesting. How about a fist fight?"

Fenne cackled and rubbed his hands together. "Wonderful. Someone go and fetch Grennig."

Tammy moved to one side of the circle nearest Kovac. "Give me a hand with this," she said, gesturing at her leather armour. He helped her out of her leather vest and unbuckled her bracers, keeping his face bent to the task. She noticed those stood closest to Kovac were the two feral women and the Yerskani with an almost regal bearing. A small pool of space remained around them.

"Are you sure about this?" muttered Kovac.

"It's a little too late for that. Tell me about Grennig."

"He's vicious and I'd say he fights dirty, except there are no rules. He'll try to gouge your eyes, fishhook your mouth, bite you, anything to make you scream."

"You'd better help me with this as well then," said Tammy, taking off her padded vest leaving only a thin shirt. "Cut off the sleeves."

Using a dagger from his belt Kovac cut the sleeves off at the shoulders, giving her plenty of room to move without leaving anything to grab. His eyes widened slightly as he saw the thickness of her arms and shoulders, but he didn't say anything.

"Pull my shirt tight," said Tammy, turning around.

Kovac pulled the material until it was stretched tight across her breasts. He then knotted the remaining fabric on her back, giving her opponent nothing to hold. If Grennig managed to get behind her then it wouldn't matter, but at least this way she wasn't giving him anything, besides the obvious, to grip for leverage.

With a small strip of leather Tammy bound her hair up at the back of her head. The wise decision would be to cut it all off or even shave it, but she didn't think Fenne would wait. It would have to do.

A rumble among the crowd announced the arrival of Grennig and people quickly created room for him to enter the circle. Now that she was practically stripped to the waist Tammy saw a few people glancing at her physique. A few were eyeing her up appreciatively, Kovac among them, who was trying his best not to stare.

A few others around the circle were looking at her speculatively. Some of the mercenaries kept glancing at her hands, noticing the old scars, and then furiously whispering to their neighbours. They were beginning to wonder why she'd asked for this type of fight. There was a flurry of activity in the crowd as people started making bets on the outcome. Just like old times.

Grennig stepped into the circle and Tammy felt the years slip away, back to when she'd worked for one of the crime Families of Perizzi. Don Lowell had looked like everyone's favourite grandfather, but was in fact a ruthless, clever old bastard. She'd collected overdue debts and brawled in the pit fights for money because she'd enjoyed it. The cheering of the crowd and the sound of breaking bones. The domination of another human in the most primal fight for survival. No weapons, not even a sharpened stone, just a closed fist.

It had been a dark and dangerous time in her life and now she was taking herself back there. Voechenka dragged old feelings that were deeply buried back to the surface. It felt as if an old version of herself was trying to re-emerge. For now she let it happen, but also tried to temper the fury of that younger woman with her wisdom and experience.

Grennig was about six foot, which made him shorter than her, but not by much. Even so, his reach would be shorter, which gave her at least one advantage. With him stripped to the waist and with a shaven head, there was nothing for her to grab onto either. He had dusty brown skin and nearly jet-black eyes, indicating a descendant from somewhere in the desert kingdoms.

Grennig's body had few scars, but his knuckles were battered and his nose had been broken several times in the past. The skin around his eyes and mouth looked wrinkled, but as he came closer she could see lots of scar tissue. A veteran. Tammy expected he was doing the same kind of assessment of her and she felt an eager smile from her old self make its way onto her face.

"You know the rule," said Fenne. "Only one of you can step out of the circle. Apart from that there are no rules."

Tammy ignored the Morrin and kept her eyes on Grennig, watching how he moved, looking for weaknesses.

"Begin," someone said, but she didn't rush to attack and neither did Grennig. They started circling each other and although the temple and the crowd were still there on the periphery of her senses, she let them drift away into the background.

Tammy finally raised her hands and Grennig did the same. He met her in the middle of the circle and went on the offensive, jabbing and testing her. Tammy dodged and bobbed from side to side, barely moving her feet, before retaliating with a fast right towards Grennig's face. It slipped past his guard and caught him on the chin, snapping his head down. She followed up with a flurry of left and rights towards his face before stepping in close, grabbing him around the head with her arms and kneeing him in the chest.

Grennig went down backwards but turned it into a roll. He came up onto his haunches breathing hard but wasn't winded as she'd hoped. When he came forward again it was more cautiously, but Tammy didn't give him time to recover. Kovac had told her Grennig was cruel and Fenne had probably thought to make this fight another bout of sport. He was in for a rude awakening.

Keeping him at the edge of her reach Tammy hounded her opponent, going after him with vicious blows and occasionally catching him. One hard left split Grennig's bottom lip, another crunched into his left cheek and a third bruised his right eye. When he tried to pull back and take a breather she followed up, stepped inside his reach and hammered her forehead into his face.

A spray of blood landed on the ground and the first dull crack of broken bone rang out. Grennig's nose was now askew but it didn't slow him down much because he'd broken it before. If anything it made him angry, as Tammy had hoped. She took a few blows to the stomach and ribs then caught Grennig on the left temple with an elbow, which sent him reeling.

He quickly recovered and came at her hard, his fists a blur, which caught her by surprise. The punches were badly timed but remembering what Kovac said, Tammy pretended they had hurt her. Fenne wanted a show, so she would give him one.

Grennig followed up, going after her ribs, then switching to her head as she tried to hunch over her body. The volume of noise from the crowd was so loud it began to penetrate her bubble of concentration. After taking a nasty left hook on the side of her face Tammy blocked the next blow and retaliated with two hard jabs that surprised Grennig, stunning him and stopping him cold.

Before he could recover she targeted his left side, going after his ribs, then switching and rattling his jaw with an uppercut that rocked him on his feet. Next she unleashed a left hook that split the skin over his eye. Screaming in rage he tried to grab her in a bear hug but she seized his wrist, twisted his arm and tossed him over her hip. He landed badly on his back and she danced away from his clawing hands. Somewhere in the back of her mind she could hear the roaring of the crowd.

When Grennig came back to his feet she let him go on the offensive, soaking up blows on her arms, taking some to the body and one or two to the face. Grennig grinned, thinking she'd used up all of her stamina and now the fight was his. When he tried to move in closer she slammed him in the middle of the forehead with an open palm, snapping his head back. Dazed he stumbled back, just in time for her to slip behind him and land three heavy punches to his kidneys.

Howling in pain he lashed out, staggering around like a drunk, but Tammy just kept her distance and waited. Wiping blood to clear his left eye Grennig didn't see her until she was already too close. Two hard jabs rattled his teeth and there was another crack. Almost blind in one eye from the trickling blood, and with the other swelling shut, the first hints of fear began to set in. Tammy grinned fiercely at his expression and in that moment they both knew the fight was already over.

Piece by piece she took him apart, breaking him down until he was just a hunk of bloody meat.

She rattled his kidneys and ribs until he was hunched over, barely able to catch his breath. She repeatedly hammered his left eye, opening the cut even wider until half of his face was painted red. Next she seized his right arm, twisted it and tossed him halfway across the circle. He skidded across the tiled floor out of the circle, only to be shoved back in. With a grunt of effort Tammy grabbed him by the throat and crotch, lifted him overhead and threw him the other way. He landed badly on his side, one arm beneath him. Grabbing him around the throat she picked him off the floor, choking Grennig until his face turned red and then purple. When she dropped him he stayed there, on hands and knees, bloody and bruised, but still moving.

Two voices inside Tammy were telling her different things. The voice of experience told her to finish it quickly, but the other voice was telling her to hurt him. To make him suffer so that he would always remember her, and this moment when she had broken him. Now that she had opened herself to the darkness within it was difficult to suppress.

Snarling she kicked Grennig in the ribs, knocking him onto his back. A heel to the crotch made him squeal and curl up but she didn't relent, sitting astride him and hammering blows into his face over and over until her hands were covered with blood. It splashed all over the floor, her arms, her face. Grennig was mewling, trying to shield his face, but Tammy kept punching until she heard something break.

Grennig's hands stopped moving and flopped to his sides. The world swung back into focus and Tammy became aware of her surroundings and the sound of her frantic breathing. The roar of the crowd had not been in her head but now as she stood up, covered in blood, it drained away until an awful silence filled the temple. Looking down at Grennig she saw the shattered remains of a man. She didn't know if that snapping sound had been his neck. He might be dead or just unconscious.

Appalled at what she had done Tammy gritted her teeth and forced the old rage away. Stumbling towards Fenne she crossed the circle until she stood before him, trying to catch her breath. The mercenaries surrounding the Morrin had all drawn their weapons and were looking at her with a mix of fear and awe. The people beside the mercenaries were less enamoured and Tammy found she couldn't look at them as her shame was too great. Only Fenne seem unperturbed and was grinning. He applauded and his clapping rang out, echoing over and over around the dome.

"Is that it? Is that the best you have?" spat Tammy, trying to slow her breathing.

"Maybe you'd like to try another opponent?" suggested Fenne.

"That wasn't the deal," shouted one of the spectators. Fenne stood up, looking for the speaker, but with the crowd packed in so tight it was hard to find the source.

"We made a deal," said Tammy, drawing the Morrin's attention back to her. "Are you going to keep your word this time?"

Tammy knew Fenne wanted nothing more than to kill her, or pit her against another fighter, but now everyone was watching him. "Take your sword and get out," he snarled, turning away until her voice stopped him.

"And I want the girl, Rheena. You promised me a servant."

For a brief moment she considered fighting again and asking for Perron. Last time Fenne had not expected her to win, but now he had the measure of her skill. He would not give her a fair fight a second time. She had made a promise to the girl's father and she intended to keep it.

Fenne paused with his back to her and Tammy felt the atmosphere in the temple change. The whole crowd seemed to be holding its breath and she saw a few mercenaries start to draw their weapons. It had been part of the deal, but Fenne never thought he'd have to honour it. She knew he didn't care about the girl. It was more that she was taking something from him.

"Here," said Kovac, shoving a young woman towards Tammy. Rheena was tall and gawky, somewhere on the border between a girl and becoming a woman. Tammy offered a smile to try and reassure the girl but she looked unsettled. After a second she realised it was probably the blood splattered across her face and hands.

Fenne glared at Kovac and then turned away, gesturing for his flunkies to follow. The tension eased and the crowd slowly began to disperse. After wiping off the blood and dressing quickly in her armour, Kovac and his friends escorted them to the gate. The plank was already laid out across the pit and Tammy sent the girl ahead. Overhead the sky was almost completely black, a few clouds obscuring the moon.

"Will you be all right?" asked Kovac as Tammy resettled her sword. She glanced at the sky and shrugged. Hopefully they could make it back before the Forsaken started to emerge.

"We'll find out." She offered Kovac a hand, which he shook. "Thank you."

"Travel safe."

With fatigue starting to set in from the fight Tammy crossed the pit back onto the street. As the gates closed behind her the last thing she saw inside the temple was Kovac. He raised a hand in farewell and the gates boomed shut.

Rheena stared at the temple and Tammy could see the tears standing out in her eyes. Her father was still in there and no matter how horrible it had been, at least she had been safe from the Forsaken. Now she was alone in the city and nightfall was almost here.

As they set off down the street Tammy heard someone approaching from up ahead. Their footsteps were loud in the oppressive silence and, much to Tammy's surprise, Zannah walked towards her.

"Save your questions for later," said the Morrin. "We need to get back before the Forsaken attack and we're trapped outside with them."

"Lead the way," said Tammy, forcing herself to keep up with Zannah's pace. They weren't out of danger yet.

CHAPTER 24.

Zannah stared at the bruised and battered face of Tammy, glanced at the girl and then turned away from the old temple. Her questions could wait.

She set a fast pace and knew the others would do their best to keep up. They understood the level of danger and Zannah would only slow down if they started to lag behind.

The streets were empty at the moment but that didn't mean anything. Any second, the Forsaken could crawl out of the shadows. In her experience where there was one, more were always lurking nearby.

At the next crossroads she turned right and then quickly stopped, one hand instinctively going to her sword. On the left side of the street one of the buildings had been completely shattered and now all that remained was one crumbling wall. It created a black pool of the deepest shadows, and despite there still being some daylight, none penetrated this pocket of night. Zannah's eyes adjusted and the black peeled away until she could see everything in the shadows. The bricks, the rotting corpse of a small animal, broken furniture.

Discarded objects leapt into sharp focus, but the woman did not.

As ever it was difficult to see her clearly, as if Zannah was looking at her through a low fog or heat haze. She was a wraith. Incredibly tall and beautiful yet so thin that it made her look out of proportion and inhuman. Her shoulders were too wide for the rest of her body and the waist too narrow, as if she'd been cobbled together from different people. Zannah tried to focus on more details but all she could see was that the wraith wore something black covering most of her body. Only her hands and feet were bare and the skin on them was white as snow. A deep cowl sat on her shoulders and bright white hair tumbled down across it, glowing with its own light.

"What is it?" asked Tammy. Part of Zannah had hoped that Tammy might be able to see the wraith, but other people never could. "Why have we stopped?"

The wraith put a long graceful finger to her cherry-red lips and smiled. Zannah felt a prickle of fear run across her scalp and down her back.

"I thought I saw something," said Zannah, turning her face away. The wraith didn't disappear like a lost spirit. There were plenty of those drifting around the city. Sometimes at night on the wall, when it was quiet, a few spirits would walk past as if they were still alive. The following night the same spirits might appear again, going through the same ritual, caught in a place between life and death.

When Zannah moved past the wraith she could still see her waving. Gritting her teeth and telling herself it was nothing, Zannah pressed on. She resumed her punishing pace as she looked for trouble, and in some ways, hoped for it. At least the Forsaken were something she could fight. Even if she didn't understand what they were, they could still be killed.

When they were more than halfway back to the winery she heard something in the distance. There was a brief shout of surprise followed by the roar of a crowd and then the screaming began. It was coming from somewhere to the west, towards one of the other camps.

"Keep up," she told the others. The girl looked terrified, her eyes wide and innocent. Tammy was in pain and exhausted, but she just grunted and waved for Zannah to get moving. The Morrin immediately turned down an alley and started jogging, dodging around fallen masonry and broken roof tiles. Despite moving with speed her eyes picked out the safest path in the gloom and she heard her companions mirroring her route around obstacles. After a few minutes the sounds of battle fell away and she slowed to a fast walk. The streets around her seemed deserted but that only made Zannah more nervous. Her senses were stretched to the point where she could hear the heartbeat of the two women behind her. In the next street a loose stone slid down a pile and her sword was instantly in her hand, her eyes scanning the surrounding area.

Rather than moving away Zannah stalked towards the fallen stone, expecting trouble. It would be far better to deal with it now than run with the others trailing behind. She reached the fallen stone and looked up and down the street, but there was nothing there. Not even the wraith stared back at her this time.

With a slight shove of her foot the whole wall wobbled and then collapsed. Satisfied that it was nothing more than natural instability, Zannah returned them to their original path.

By the time they arrived at the gates of the winery the sky was completely black overhead. She was pleased to see someone else had lit the torches above the gate, and that several people were standing on the wall.

"Where have you been?" said Alyssa, chiding her, yet obviously relieved to see they were safe.

The rope came down and they sent the girl up first. She was weak and climbed with some difficulty but eventually managed it. All the while Zannah stood with her back to the torches, maintaining her night vision and view of the street. After staring at this part of the city night after night she knew every rock, every shadow, every fallen stone. Nothing was out of place. Then the wraith appeared again in one of the upstairs windows of a building halfway down the street. She grinned, pulled up her hood and, once she was sure Zannah had seen her, moved out of sight.

"Are you all right?" asked Tammy. Zannah tried to relax her shoulders. "Is it the Forsaken?"

"You go up next," said Zannah, ignoring the questions.