"And now," Joel said, rising, taking hold of the dagger's grip with both hands, "I'm going to finish it. Right through the heart."
He pulled the blade back and just when he wanted to stab Rowan again, Rowan drove his elbow forward.
He used the injured arm, the same one he could barely feel and it cost him everything he had to move it, but he drove it into Joel's sternum with whatever force remained in his body, and Joel staggered back one step, two steps, caught his heel on a broken pot and went down sideways.
Rowan lurched to his feet with a grunt as he gritted his teeth.
His shoulder was bleeding through his jacket in a dark spreading stain. His side throbbed with every heartbeat. He was light-headed in a way that told him he'd already lost more blood than was ideal.
Joel rose from the floor.
And the look on his face had finally changed.
