Jinnaari broke into a run, rage blinding him to reason. Aust had crept up on him as he dozed, almost sliced open his abdomen. He’d woken up in time to deflect the sword. The Drow had snarled, and ran. The coward! He knew Jinnaari would beat him in a fair fight.

Blood seeped from his side. The wound wasn’t mortal, but it was enough to slow him down. It was entirely possible Aust wielded a poisoned blade. All the more reason to destroy him and rejoin his friends. Rhaine was supposed to stay with the group until he returned. Either she or Thia would be able to take care of him.

As long as he didn’t die first.

A low rumble began to echo down the corridor. The floor shook as a section of the ceiling crashed to the floor in front of him. Raising his shield, he deflected several stones as they hurtled toward him. A cloud of dirt and dust enveloped him. Coughing, he looked down the hall. Maybe, just maybe, Aust’s body would be under all the rubble.

The Drow rose from a crouch, shaking some larger rocks off of his body. The two adversaries locked eyes. Aust growled, then ran across the piles of rubble.

Jinnaari watched his foe dance over the rocks. He was going to lose time. Time he didn’t have to waste. Glancing upward, he smiled. The cave in had opened up the tunnel enough that he could fly.

Spreading his wings, he rose from the ground and launched himself upward. Aust turned around, fear replacing the arrogance on his face. Jinnaari put all of the frustration and rage that had been simmering since Bahamut pulled him away from the group into a single, primal scream of hatred and launched his sword at Aust. The sword flew true, piercing the Drow through the center of his chest and pinning him to a wall.

Jinnaari landed, folded his wings, all while keeping his focus on his opponent. “I told you,” his voice was low. “You would be the first to die. I’m a man of my word.”

Aust coughed, blood oozing from his mouth. “My death won’t matter. Herasta’s daughter will be one of Lolth’s priestesses. You can’t stop her fate.”

Jinnaari grabbed the hilt of his sword, twisting the blade in the Drow’s body. “I changed yours, didn’t I?”

He pulled the sword out and watched Aust crumble to the ground. A single ring on a finger was worth taking. The rest of his belongings would turn to dust, forgotten like the man would be.