The polished oak of the staff seemed to grow in the thick warmth of the longhouse. It was a beautiful construction. Claire knew if she ran her fingers along it, she'd find joints of birch, yew, hawthorn and the other sacred woods of the north. Her thumb worried at the gnarl of amber trapped in its tip.

The hall had reacted quickly to the prospect of a duel. Claire and Hero were evidently to fight simultaneously. The wordplay made Claire roll her eyes, but she had to admire the way the hall quickly reorganised for the occasion. Bjorn had swept her away to the far end. The tables were pushed clear, revealing a hard-packed arena in the center of the lodge. She stopped her pacing at the side of the ring. 'Librarians are not warriors or wizards. Is this really necessary?'