"I'm ready," she whispered, her fingers tightening on the shaft of her glaive. While her voice had commanded the masses to wait, her spirit telepathy was already pulsing out the true orders to the squad leaders: On my mark, we don't defend. We pierce. Absolute aggression. No survivors.
She glanced over her shoulder at the intricate, glowing patterns Fang was tracing into the ground. Her eyes shimmered with curiosity. "Oh, you are using one of those arrays? I've only heard whispers of that particular configuration."
Her gaze lingered on the pulsing silver lines. "Another mystery from your repertoire. What a truly fascinating young master you are, William, to have taught an old man such an archaic art."
Fang looked up in genuine surprise. He hadn't told her that the array came from William, yet she had deduced it instantly. What shocked him more, however, was her apparent ignorance of the array's true function.
