If Trista were the type to smile, she would have when she saw Kurt getting the feel of the blade. Something in her eyes danced a bit, even if it didn't reach the rest of her. She gave him a nod, and it meant as much to her as if she'd run across the room and launched herself into his arms. No time for any of that nonsense though, especially when they had a demonic maze of fun to get through.
Her eyes snapped to Grayson when he appeared, glanced to Kurt, and then took off running at a dead heat, confident that the other two would be keeping pace. They had to get past those things. Or, more accurately to her mind, see how long it took until they caught up. The fighting was inevitable. Something almost like an earthquake -- but more like an inhale and exhale of the ground -- made her stumble though, and a hand had to go to the wall to not fall. She'd only felt it like this one other time, four or five years ago (not that she knew how to count by years). When the Sorcerer Supreme and ruler of Limbo had disappeared.
She was a smart cookie. Or, at least, not a completely dumb one. "She's back." But where? And how, and why? She shoved those things away, thinking in a split second that a returning emperor wouldn't waste their time in the dungeons, they'd go straight for the throne room. Their best bet was down here, in one of the passages out. The fighting at the front would only be worse if Darkchylde's supporters showed up to party. So far they only knew of the demon insects downstairs. The best bad choice they had.
"Kurt, you go left. Gray, you and me right." To the front where most of their people were for the former, and to the back for anyone who'd gotten pushed up with the fighting. "We get them out downstairs." Again, the unspoken understanding that this would happen after they had a hell of a fight in a few moments. She stopped and spun, bracing herself for the first wave.