"Enough!"
Arthur's metallic tones rippled through the air and water, splintering the wood of the boats and knocking Bran back from the sheer force of it.
"I tire of this game," said Arthur. "If you will not willingly submit to your superior, then you leave me no choice."
He held out a hand, with the palm up, and Bran had only a fraction of a second to duck the blow as yet more wood splintered behind him.
Time was up.
His time was up.
Bran squeezed the handles of both daggers, feeling their weight and adjusting their angle.
No, it was only over when he gave up, he told himself.
Arthur raised his hand again and Bran tried to calm himself, to try to think of a way out, anyway out.
Then came a glimmer out of the corner of his eye. Had it been anything else, he would have ignored it given how trying his current situation was, yet, whatever it was, took a firm hold of his attention and forced him to look.
