I wouldn’t put it past you,” Kaldar said. “Or him. Who knows what the hell he might do?”
William made a cutting motion across his throat.
“He might kill you if you’re not careful,” she told him.
“Who, Will? We’re the best of friends.”
William rolled his eyes.

Kaldar picked up a rock and tossed it into the clearing. It landed between two wards. A green stem shot out of the ground, and a hail of needle-thin thorns peppered the soil, striking sparks off the rock.
"You got any money on you?"
"No."
Kaldar grimaced. "What do you have?"
William made a mental inventory of some twenty-odd items he'd pulled out of the Mirror's bag of tricks and hid in his clothes this morning. Not much he could part with. "A knife," he said.
"Fine. I'll bet my knife against your knife that I can walk through there unharmed.

Behind him Kaldar nudged Urow's youngest son. "Bet you he lasts at least thirty seconds."
"Um..." Gaston looked at him. "No he won't."
"Bet me something."
"I don't have anything."
Kaldar grimaced. "Pick up that rock."
Gaston swiped the rock off the ground.
"Now you have a rock. I bet this five bucks against your rock."
Gaston grinned. "Deal.

Failure happened. The trick was to accept the risk and try anyway.

William's eyes glowed like two amber coals. She met his gaze and flinched. No emotion reflected in the amber, only intelligence, cruel in a way the eyes of a hunting Mire cat were cruel. She saw no worry, no softness, no thoughts at all, only waiting. He seemed barely human now, not a man but some feral thing, knitted of darkness and biding his time for an opportunity to pounce.

Some women waited for a night in shining armor. She, apparently, had ended up with a knight in black jeans and leather, who wanted to chase her down and have his evil way with her.