"Don't. You. Dare!" Zandros may go to punch, but if he does he'll find his fist bouncing back, sending veins of purple light streaking across a magical shield.

From the moment Jim put his hand on hers everything had spiralled out of control. A fistfight was the last thing she'd expected. Some heated words, or a tense stand off, but not a fistfight. So she had stumbled back, shock plastered across her face while she watched them exchange blows. That's when the cold dread and embarrassment had started to trickle down through her.

Now she storms towards them, hand outstretched to keep the shield in place, and glares at Zandros. "Get up," she snaps. "Get up right now." She tilts her head so that her sharp green eyes can better bore into his. "What do you think you're doing? This isn't a duel, it isn't respectable. This is barbaric."