Chapter 3: When the Light Breaks - Part 1

Valen checked behind them again.

“If you walk into a tree,” Kisen said, “I’m telling everyone it attacked first.”

“I’m remembering the way back.”

“Good. I’m following you when we leave.”

Valen glanced at him.

Kisen stepped over a root, his usual grin fading as he checked where Rikk had gone.

“When,” Valen repeated.

“That’s what I said.”

Ahead, Rikk ducked beneath a branch. Zephar pushed through after him and held it back for Starloris.

Valen reached it just as Zephar let go.

He caught it inches from his glasses.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I was being sarcastic.”

“So was I.”

Kisen took the branch from Valen and waited until he passed.

“One of us has manners.”

“You want me to thank you too?”

“It would be nice.”

Valen shook his head, but the familiar nonsense loosened the tightness in his chest. He could manage a walk through the woods with these three. He had done plenty of things with them while wishing they would stop talking.

It was what waited at the end of the walk that bothered him.

“Zephar?”

Starloris had fallen a few steps behind.

Zephar turned.

“What?”

“Do you think we…”

His fingers closed around the silver clasp at his collar.

Valen watched him. Ask it, he thought. Whatever it is, just ask.

Starloris dropped his hand.

“Never mind.”

Zephar studied him, then glanced at the stretch of uneven ground between them.

“You could watch where you’re going instead of staring at everything.”

“I am watching.”

“Then keep up.”

But Zephar slowed down.

By the next tree, Starloris was beside him. Zephar bumped his shoulder against Starloris’s, and Starloris nudged him back.

Kisen’s hand caught the back of Valen’s cloak.

“Speaking of keeping up.”

“I’m right here.”

“Stay right here, then.”

Rikk’s hood vanished behind the ferns ahead.

“Rikk,” Kisen called. “We’ve got longer legs than you. This is embarrassing.”

“Need hurry.”

“We are hurrying. Slow down enough that we can see you.”

Rikk turned.

“Mother waiting.”

The joking stopped.

“I know,” Kisen said. “We’re coming with you. But you have to keep us together.”

Rikk glanced over them, his claws opening and closing at his sides.

Then he nodded.

“Stay close.”

Zephar waited for Valen and Kisen to catch up. Starloris shifted aside to make room on the narrow trail, leaving Valen squeezed between him and Kisen.

“Comfortable?” Kisen asked.

“Your elbow’s in my ribs.”

“Still know where I am, though.”

Valen pushed his arm away.

He wanted to ask whether they should go back for a teacher. The words had been sitting in his mouth since they left the road.

Instead, he checked that Rikk was still in sight.

Everyone stayed close enough that their sleeves touched as they walked.

The trail narrowed around a stand of thick roots, forcing them into single file.

Valen stepped into a bootprint.

His own shoe fitted inside it with room to spare.

He stopped before putting his weight down. More prints crossed the mud ahead, trampling the grass along the trail. A branch hung broken at knee height, its pale wood exposed beneath the bark.

“Rikk?”

The kobold stood beside a flat stone.

Valen followed his gaze.

A dark smear marked its edge. Beneath it, drops had dried against the fallen leaves.

He crouched.

Blood.

He knew what blood looked like. He’d cleaned it from scraped hands and watched it soak through bandages. Still, he found himself searching the ground for another explanation.

Starloris stopped behind him.

Zephar turned. “What are you—”

His eyes reached the stone.

Rikk pointed at the churned earth.

“Here. They take Mother here.”

Valen rested his hands on his knees. He wanted to ask how much blood she had lost, whether she had been awake, whether the hunters had carried her or made her walk.

Rikk was staring at the stain.

The questions stayed where they were.

Kisen moved to the edge of the trail and peered between the trees.

“Keep your voices down.”

Valen stood.

“We should get Professor Veyra.”

There. He’d said it.

Zephar faced him.

“Go all the way back?”

“She’d know what to do.”

“And how long would that take?” Zephar gestured toward the stone. “They’ve already hurt her.”

“I can see that.”

“Then we need to move.”

Valen’s face grew hot. He hated that he wanted Zephar to agree. He hated having to explain why getting help mattered when the evidence was right beside their feet.

“Valen’s right.”

Starloris’s voice drew them both around.

His hand was shaking. He folded his arms, tucking his fingers beneath them.

“We don’t even know how many there are. We should get someone.”

Zephar’s gaze dropped to Starloris’s hands before returning to his face.

“What if she can’t wait?”

Starloris had no answer.

Neither did Valen.

Rikk stepped closer.

“You go back?”

Valen opened his mouth, but Kisen spoke first.

“Hold on.”

He caught Zephar by the sleeve as he turned toward the trail.

“She’s in trouble. But us just running in there wouldn’t help anyone.”

Zephar pulled his arm free.

“I wasn’t going to run in.”

“Then stop walking away while we’re talking.”

Zephar stayed.

Valen let his shoulders drop. Then he saw Rikk watching them, and the relief embarrassed him. They were arguing over whether to continue. Rikk had to stand there and wait.

Kisen rubbed his palms against his trousers.

“The plan isn’t to fight anyone. It’s to get in and out as fast and quiet as we can.”

“We don’t have a plan,” Valen said.

“Not yet. First we need to see the place.”

“And if there’s no way in?” Starloris asked.

“Then we go get help.”

Zephar pressed his lips together.

Kisen waited until he met his eyes.

“You too.”

“I heard you.”

“I want you coming back with us.”

Zephar glanced at the others. His gaze lingered on Starloris before he gave a short nod.

“Fine. We look first.”

Kisen turned toward Rikk.

“How much farther?”

“Ten… fifteen minutes.”

“Can you get us close without them seeing us?”

Rikk nodded and pointed away from the trampled trail.

“Through trees.”

Valen studied the direction he indicated. They could look. They could find out where she was and bring that information back.

He could agree to that much.

“Just to look,” he said.

Kisen nodded.

Rikk moved into the undergrowth. Zephar followed, holding a branch aside until all three of them had passed.

Valen ducked beneath it.

This time, neither of them made a joke.

By the time Rikk raised his hand, Valen had stopped trying to guess how far they had walked.

He watched where Rikk put his feet and followed. Twice, Kisen caught a branch before it scraped across Valen’s cloak.

Rikk crouched behind a fallen tree.

“Here.”

Valen lowered himself beside him. Damp moss pressed through the fabric at his knees.

Beyond the branches stood a broken wall, its stones webbed with roots. A tower rose behind it. Part of the upper floor had collapsed, leaving a jagged opening against the sky.

Someone crossed beneath it.

Valen ducked.

Kisen’s hand settled on his shoulder.

“He’s not looking this way.”

Valen nodded, embarrassed by how quickly he had moved.

The man carried a crossbow against his hip. He stopped near the tower entrance and said something to another hunter sitting on a low wall.

Two.

A third emerged from behind the tower, dragging a coil of rope.

Starloris leaned forward to see.

Zephar caught the shoulder of his cloak and pulled him down.

“Your hair,” he whispered.

Starloris flattened a hand over the cyan strands sticking above the trunk.

“Right.”

Kisen pointed through a gap in the branches.

“Another one. By the wall.”

Valen found him beside a stack of wooden crates.

Four.

Then a man in a heavy leather coat stepped into the courtyard. A curved blade hung at his side. He spoke, and the hunter sitting on the wall stood.

Kisen’s fingers tightened on Valen’s shoulder.

Valen turned toward him.

Kisen was counting again.

His eyes moved from the tower to the crates, then along the outer wall. After that, he checked each of them.

“Five,” he whispered.

“And we can’t see inside,” Valen said.

Kisen withdrew his hand.

“No.”

Zephar stayed low beside Starloris. He hadn’t said anything since pulling him down.

Valen had expected him to argue first. The silence made it harder to speak.

“You said we’d get help if we couldn’t do this without fighting.”

“I know.”

Kisen watched the man with the curved blade cross the courtyard.

“We should go back.”

Valen eased his weight off his knees. He could remember the path. Once they reached the road, they could run.

Beside him, Rikk’s scaled hands tightened.

“You go,” he said.

Kisen turned.

“All of us.”

“Rikk get Mother.”

Rikk slipped toward the end of the trunk.

Zephar caught him around the middle and pulled him back beneath the branches.

“Wait.”

Rikk twisted in his grip.

“Let go.”

“They’ll see you.”

“Let go.”

His voice rose. Kisen raised a hand, and everyone froze.

Across the courtyard, the hunter with the crossbow turned toward the trees.

Valen pressed himself against the trunk. He could hear Rikk breathing through his teeth.

Someone called from the tower.

The hunter turned away.

Zephar loosened his hold.

Rikk pushed at his arm, but Starloris crouched in front of him.

“Wait. Let us think.”

“Mother alone.”

“We know.”

“Rikk leave her already. For help, you help said.”

Valen stopped watching the courtyard.

Rikk’s hood had slipped back. He gripped Zephar’s sleeve with both claws.

“Go get help,” Rikk said. “Rikk stay with her.”

Valen pictured him crossing that open ground. The crossbowman wouldn’t even have to leave the tower entrance.

They could hold him here. But someone would have to keep holding him, and Rikk would fight them the whole way back.

Zephar released him.

“Give us a minute.”

Rikk glanced toward the tower, then back at them.

Valen caught Kisen’s eye.

He wanted Kisen to find an answer. That was unfair. Kisen had counted the same hunters he had.

Still, Valen heard himself ask, “Can we get her out?”

Kisen rubbed a hand over his mouth.

“I don’t know.”

Starloris stayed beside Rikk. Zephar shifted closer to the end of the trunk, blocking the route Rikk had tried to take.

Valen settled onto his knees again.

Kisen studied the ruins.

“Rikk,” he whispered. “Show me where they took her.”

Rikk pointed toward the tower.

“Inside. Then down.”

“Did you see where?” Valen asked.

“Followed. Before they shut door.”

Kisen leaned sideways to study the wall.

“There’s a gap past those crates. If we go around through the trees, we could get closer without crossing in front of them.”

Zephar followed his gaze.

“Then straight to the tower.”

“When the entrance is clear,” Kisen said.

Valen watched the crossbowman shift his weapon from one hand to the other. From here, the tower doorway looked empty behind him.

That meant very little. Someone had called from inside.

“And when we get through the door?”

Zephar looked at him.

“We find her.”

“What if someone’s at the bottom of the stairs?”

Nobody answered.

Valen pressed his fingertips into the moss. He wanted to help make this work. So far, all he had done was explain why it wouldn’t.

“We’d have nowhere to hide,” he added.

Kisen lowered himself behind the trunk.

“Let me try something.”

He settled his hands on his knees and closed his eyes.

Valen recognized what he was trying to do.

“Mana Sensing?”

Kisen nodded.

Starloris glanced toward the courtyard.

“Won’t they feel that?”

Valen’s own hands went still. He remembered Professor Veyra’s mana spreading around them, reaching everyone within the field.

But Kisen wasn’t gathering mana.

“You’re only sensing what’s already there,” Valen whispered.

“That’s what I’m trying to do.”

Starloris looked between them.

“So how is that different?”

“When we cast, we gather mana and move it,” Valen said. “That’s something another mage can notice. He’s trying to feel theirs without sending his own out.”

“Listening,” Kisen murmured.

Starloris nodded slowly.

Valen looked at Kisen’s hands again. They lay open against his knees.

“Does it reach that far?”

“I’ll tell you when I find out.”

Zephar shifted beside him.

“Can you feel her?”

Kisen opened one eye.

“I can feel you breathing on my ear.”

Zephar drew back, pulling a twig from beneath his boot before settling again.

Kisen closed his eye.

Valen watched the hunters while they waited. The man beside the crates bent to pick something up. For a breath, Valen mistook the movement for him raising a weapon.

His shoulders hurt from holding them so tightly.

Beside him, Starloris whispered, “I wish I could write this down.”

“Remember it,” Zephar said.

“That’s what writing it down is for.”

Zephar looked at him, then reached over and lowered the branch Starloris had lifted to see through.

“Remember to stay down first.”

Kisen drew a slow breath through his nose.

“There’s something beneath the tower.”

Rikk moved closer.

“Mother?”

“I can’t tell.”

“But alive?”

Kisen opened his eyes.

“Rikk, I don’t know if it’s her.”

Rikk’s claws sank into the moss.

“What else?” Valen asked.

“The ones outside are easier. I think I can separate them when they move.” Kisen glanced toward the tower. “Inside gets muddled. There’s something faint, lower down.”

“So someone could still be on the stairs.”

“Yes.”

Zephar peered over the trunk.

“Then we need them outside.”

Kisen turned toward him.

Zephar pointed past the far end of the wall.

“Make them go over there. Away from the door.”

“With what?” Starloris asked.

“A noise. Something they’ll check.”

“They might send one person,” Valen said.

Kisen slipped a card from his sleeve and turned it between his fingers.

“A noise and magic?”

Starloris looked at the card, then toward the ruins.

“I could make a light.”

“How far away?” Kisen asked.

“I’d have to get closer.” Starloris rubbed his palms against his cloak. “And I don’t know how long I could keep it there.”

Valen pictured the white light beyond the wall. Every hunter turning toward it.

Then toward Starloris.

“If they can sense you casting, they’ll know where you are.”

Starloris’s hands stopped.

Kisen studied the trees along the outside of the ruins.

“Then we cast from the side we want them to search. Your light, my card against those loose stones. After that, we stop and move.”

“Around to the gap,” Valen said.

Kisen nodded.

It gave the magic a purpose beyond catching their eyes. They wanted the hunters to notice it.

Valen looked along the route again. Roots, rubble, a stretch where the wall would hide them. He could picture reaching the tower now.

Getting out was harder.

“What if she can’t walk?”

“I’ll carry her,” Zephar said.

“You won’t be able to run properly.”

“Then stay close enough to help me.”

He said it without looking away from the tower.

Valen studied his friend’s broad shoulders, then the crossbow by the entrance.

“All right,” he said. “I will.”

Kisen tucked the card between his fingers.

“We watch what they do first. If they stay at the tower, we stay out here.”

Zephar’s jaw tightened, but he nodded.

Kisen waited until Rikk did too.

Beside Valen, Starloris held out his hand. His fingers trembled.

“Small light,” he whispered to himself.

Valen touched his wrist.

“Not yet.”

“I know.”

Starloris lowered his hand, leaving it against Valen’s sleeve.

Rikk led them back from the fallen tree before turning along the slope.

Valen followed with one hand held out to keep branches from his face. Through the leaves, the tower appeared and disappeared on his left. Each time he caught sight of it, he checked the windows.

At the far side of the ruins, Rikk stopped behind a thick tree and pointed toward a mound of loose stone.

“Here?”

Kisen crouched beside him.

Beyond the stones, a stretch of broken wall opened onto the courtyard. A light here would be visible through it.

“Yes.”

Valen looked back along the way they had come. They would have to move quickly once the hunters noticed.

He shifted a fallen branch out of their path.

Starloris knelt beside the tree. He raised his hand, lowered it, then wiped it against his trousers.

Zephar settled beside him and put a hand on his shoulder.

“Gather. Control. Shape.”

“I remember.”

“Then stop looking at the tower. Your hand’s down here.”

Starloris looked at him.

“I know where my hand is.”

“Good. We’re making progress.”

Valen crouched on Starloris’s other side, where he could see through the opening.

“Just focus on the light. We’ll watch the hunters.”

Starloris turned his palm upward.

Kisen held his card beside it.

“And if you mess up, I’ll feel better about messing up mine.”

“That’s your encouragement?” Valen asked.

“I thought it was generous.”

“You could try being useful.”

“I’m about to throw a card at a wall. You moved a stick.”

“It was in the way.”

Starloris let out a quiet laugh, then pressed his lips together.

Valen glanced through the opening. No one had turned toward them.

When he looked back, Kisen’s card slipped against his thumb. He caught it with his other hand and reset his grip.

Valen left the next remark unsaid.

Rikk waited beside the tree, staring at Starloris’s empty palm.

Starloris noticed him.

The smile left his face.

“Just one light,” Starloris whispered. “Don’t mess this up.”

Valen leaned closer.

“Starloris.”

“I know. Gather—”

“You don’t have to make it perfect. They just have to see it.”

Starloris looked at him, then down at his open hand.

“Right.”

He turned toward Kisen.

“Where do you want it?”

Kisen pointed to a low branch beyond the loose stones.

“There. Can you put it there?”

Starloris studied the distance.

“If I make it here first.”

“All right. On your light.”

Zephar squeezed Starloris’s shoulder once, then took his hand away.

Valen turned to watch the courtyard.

He wanted to give Starloris one more instruction. Keep it small. Don’t rush. Be ready to move.

He held them all back. Starloris had heard enough.

White light touched the bark beside them.

Valen resisted the urge to look.

Across the courtyard, the crossbowman straightened.

The crossbowman turned toward the broken wall.

Valen’s mouth went dry.

“He’s looking.”

Beside him, Starloris extended his hand. The light drifted past the tree, wavering as it crossed the loose stones. It caught beneath the low branch Kisen had pointed out.

Kisen threw.

His card flashed orange and struck between two stones near the top of the mound. One tipped forward. Others followed, clattering down through the opening.

“By the wall!”

The crossbow rose.

Valen dropped behind the tree before he could think to warn anyone.

Zephar caught Starloris beneath the arm and pulled him down beside them.

“Done?” he whispered.

Starloris nodded.

“Then move.”

Rikk was already slipping between the trees. Zephar pushed Starloris after him.

Valen reached back for Kisen and caught his sleeve.

Kisen turned from the opening.

“Coming.”

Valen kept hold until they were both behind the next tree.

A voice carried across the ruins.

“Round the outside. Don’t walk straight at it.”

They were following.

That was what they wanted.

Valen had to repeat it as he hurried after Starloris.

Ahead, Rikk ducked beneath a leaning trunk. Starloris followed on his hands and knees. Valen lowered himself after him, dragging his cloak through the dirt.

Behind them, boots crunched over fallen stone.

He wanted to crawl faster. His sleeve caught beneath his palm, and he lurched forward onto one elbow.

Starloris turned back and freed the fabric.

“Got you.”

Valen scrambled through. Kisen came next, with Zephar close behind.

They waited just long enough for him to clear the trunk.

Then Rikk led them downhill toward the gap.

Here, the outer wall stood higher than their heads. Valen stayed close to the stone, grateful for every stretch of it that blocked the courtyard from view.

Rikk stopped at the opening.

Zephar crouched beside him, looked through, then pulled back.

“One.”

Kisen joined him.

Valen could see between their shoulders. A hunter stood at the tower entrance, a short blade held against his thigh.

Between the gap and the tower lay open ground.

Zephar shifted his foot beneath him.

Valen reached toward his cloak, but Zephar stopped on his own and looked at Kisen.

Kisen shook his head.

They waited.

Somewhere beyond the far wall, a hunter called, “Light’s still here.”

Valen looked at Starloris.

Starloris stared at the dirt between his knees. His lips moved once, soundlessly.

“Anyone?” another voice demanded.

No answer came.

Valen pictured the hunters spreading through the trees. Finding the place where they had knelt. The path around the leaning trunk.

His gaze dropped to the mud on his sleeve.

Had they left tracks?

At the tower, the remaining hunter took a step into the courtyard.

Rikk leaned forward.

Kisen held out a hand.

The man stopped.

“Get upstairs!” someone called from the far side. “Watch the trees. They can’t have gone far.”

The hunter glanced toward the upper windows, then disappeared through the doorway.

Rikk moved against Kisen’s arm.

“Now.”

Kisen kept watching the entrance.

A shape passed behind a gap in the tower’s upper stonework.

Valen saw the hunter’s blade first, then his shoulder as he climbed out of sight.

“He’s up there,” Valen whispered.

Kisen lowered his hand.

“Stay low.”

Rikk slipped through the wall.

Starloris followed, then Zephar.

Valen put his palm against the edge of the opening. Beyond it, there would be nothing between him and those windows.

Kisen touched his back.

“I’m behind you.”

Valen stepped through.

The courtyard felt wider from inside the wall.

Too open.

Rikk crouched immediately and pointed toward the fallen column halfway across.

“Column.”

Kisen leaned through the gap behind Valen and checked the tower windows.

The hunter they had seen climbing upstairs passed behind the broken stonework again.

“Wait,” Kisen whispered.

Valen pressed himself against the wall.

The shadow disappeared.

Kisen counted under his breath.

Then his hand dropped.

“Go.”

Rikk ran first.

Starloris followed close behind.

Valen crossed after them, keeping his head low. Every step across the open courtyard felt louder than it should have.

He reached the fallen column and dropped behind it.

Zephar landed beside him.

Kisen arrived last.

Nobody spoke.

The tower entrance waited across another stretch of open ground.

An overturned iron cage rested near the steps.

Rikk pointed toward it.

Zephar nodded.

This time they moved without being told.

Column to cage.

Cage to tower.

Valen reached the doorway and slipped inside.

The ground-floor chamber was darker than the courtyard. Thin lines of daylight cut through cracks in the walls.

Empty cages filled one side of the room.

Nets and coils of rope hung from wooden hooks.

Beside them were iron collars.

Valen’s stomach tightened.

Faded markings had been carved into the metal.

Starloris stared at them.

“What were they—”

Kisen lifted a finger to his lips.

A floorboard creaked above them.

Everyone froze.

The hunter was still upstairs.

Rikk tugged lightly on Valen’s sleeve and pointed toward the back of the chamber.

A narrow stairway disappeared beneath the tower.

“Down,” he whispered.

Kisen checked the room once more, then nodded.

Rikk started toward the stairs.

Valen followed.

The farther they descended, the colder the air became.

The courtyard disappeared above them.

Then the daylight.

Starloris raised one hand.

A faint white glow formed over his palm.

Just enough to see the next step.

At the bottom, a wooden door blocked the passage.

A thick beam rested across it in two stone brackets.

Rikk rushed forward.

Zephar caught his shoulder.

“Wait.”

Rikk looked ready to fight him for it.

Kisen moved beside the door and listened.

Nothing.

He looked back.

Zephar wrapped both hands around the beam and lifted slowly.

The wood scraped against stone.

Everyone winced.

He stopped.

They listened.

No footsteps.

Zephar lifted again and lowered the beam carefully to the floor.

Rikk reached for the door.

Valen caught his wrist.

“Slowly.”

Rikk nodded.

The door opened with a quiet groan.

A damp, metallic smell slipped through the gap.

Blood.

Valen’s chest tightened.

Rikk squeezed through first.

Starloris followed.

Valen stepped into the room.

The moment he entered, his attention went straight to the woman on the floor.

Up close, she looked worse.

Much worse.

Her breathing was shallow. Dirt and dried blood covered her clothes, and one side of her body was covered in bruises. Her leg rested at an angle that made Valen’s stomach tighten.

He stopped.

Everything he had learned suddenly felt very far away.

Lessons were easy.

A diagram didn’t breathe.

A practice dummy couldn’t die because he made the wrong choice.

This was different.

This was real.

Valen lowered himself beside her.

His hands hovered over her, but he didn’t touch her yet.

Where do I even start?

His eyes moved from one injury to the next.

The blood.

Her leg.

The bruising.

Her breathing.

Too many things.

His fingers began to shake.

“What is it?”

Starloris’s voice came from behind him.

Valen didn’t answer.

He could feel everyone watching him.

Rikk most of all.

He brought us here because we said we could help.

Valen swallowed.

What if he couldn’t?

What if he chose the wrong injury first?

What if his healing made something worse?

His thoughts began crashing into each other faster than he could sort through them.

Then another voice slipped between them.

Calm.

Controlled.

Familiar.

His mother.

Panic wastes time.

Valen froze.

He could almost see her standing beside him, arms folded as she watched him struggle through one of her lessons.

Assess the patient.

His eyes lowered to the woman again.

Decide what matters first.

Her chest rose.

Slowly.

But it rose.

Then act.

Valen took a breath.

His hands were still shaking.

Just not as badly.

Another memory followed, quieter than the first.

His mother looking down at him after he had doubted himself during training.

Her expression hadn’t changed.

Her voice hadn’t softened.

Of course you can do it.

A pause.

You are my son.

Valen closed his eyes for only a moment.

Then opened them.

“Starloris.”

“Yeah?”

“Bring the light closer.”

Starloris immediately moved beside him.

The faint glow illuminated the woman’s injuries.

Valen leaned closer.

“She’s breathing,” he said.

Rikk shifted behind them.

Valen glanced toward him.

“I need you to stay calm.”

Rikk stared at him.

Whether he understood the exact words or not, Valen couldn’t tell.

But he seemed to understand the tone.

Valen turned back.

He placed two fingers against the woman’s neck.

A pulse.

Weak.

But there.

“Good…”

Zephar crouched nearby. “Good?”

“She has a pulse.”

“That sounds good.”

“It means she’s alive.”

Zephar stared at him.

“That is generally what I meant.”

Normally, Valen might have responded.

This time, he barely heard him.

His attention remained on the woman.

The leg looked bad, but it wasn’t the first thing he needed to worry about.

Blood first.

Breathing.

Then everything else.

Just like he had been taught.

Valen reached toward the wound along her side.

Warm green light gathered around his fingers.

Then flickered.

His hand stopped.

Starloris noticed.

“Valen?”

Valen stared at the light.

“I haven’t…”

His voice caught.

He tried again.

“I haven’t healed something like this before.”

Silence filled the room.

For one horrible second, Valen regretted saying it.

Then Starloris spoke.

“You know more than the rest of us.”

Valen looked at him.

Starloris gave him a small smile.

Not the usual bright one.

A nervous one.

But still a smile.

“And she needs you.”

Valen looked back at the woman.

She needs me.

His chest tightened.

That somehow made it worse.

Then Zephar placed a hand on his shoulder.

“You’re thinking too much.”

Valen glanced up at him.

Zephar shrugged.

“You do that.”

“This is hardly the time.”

“Exactly.”

Kisen leaned against the wall nearby.

“For once, I agree with him.”

Zephar looked over his shoulder.

“For once?”

“Valen.”

Starloris brought his attention back.

Valen looked at him.

“You can do this.”

Simple.

No promise that everything would be fine.

Because none of them knew that.

Valen looked down at his hands again.

The green light trembled between his fingers.

He breathed in.

Assess.

The glow steadied.

Decide.

Golden light began weaving through the green.

Act.

Valen placed his hands over the wound.

Warm light spilled across the woman’s side.

Tiny golden-green motes rose around his fingers like leaves caught in a gentle wind.

The woman suddenly gasped.

Rikk lunged forward.

Starloris caught him.

“Wait!”

Valen’s heart jumped, but he didn’t remove his hands.

“Stay back!”

Rikk struggled for a moment before stopping.

His eyes remained fixed on his mother.

Valen forced himself to ignore everything around him.

The room.

The others.

The hunter somewhere above them.

Even his own fear.

There was only the wound beneath his hands.

The light.

And the woman who needed him.

Valen narrowed his eyes.

“Come on…”

The glow grew brighter.

Valen shut his eyes.

The room disappeared.

The damp stone beneath his knees.

Rikk’s breathing behind him.

Zephar and Kisen.

Even Starloris beside him.

Gone.

For a moment, there was only white.

Clean walls.

Bright light overhead.

A table beneath his hands.

His mother had made him practice like this before.

Remove what doesn’t matter.

Valen breathed slowly.

See the patient.

Rikk’s mother lay before him.

Not surrounded by dirt and blood.

Not trapped beneath a ruined tower.

Just a patient.

His patient.

Valen opened his eyes.

The ruin returned.

But the panic didn’t.

He looked at the wound along her side again.

Bleeding first.

His fingers moved apart.

The green light between them stretched.

A thin shape began forming above his palm.

Green mana outlined it first, while threads of gold ran through the center.

The shape sharpened.

Lengthened.

Until something resembling a small surgical clamp hovered above his hand.

Valen stared at it.

He hadn’t meant to make it.

Not exactly.

He had only thought about what he needed.

Beside him, Starloris went still.

“Valen…”

“Not now.”

Valen lowered the construct toward the wound.

It didn’t close the injury itself.

Instead, the moment it touched the damaged area, his magic narrowed.

Focused.

The scattered warmth of his Cell Acceleration condensed into a single point.

Valen felt the tissue respond beneath his hand.

Blood flow slowed.

Damaged cells began repairing faster.

There.

His breathing steadied.

The tool wasn’t healing her.

It was guiding him.

Giving his magic somewhere to go.

“Okay.”

Another shape flickered beside his wrist.

Smaller this time.

A curved needle made from green light.

A thin golden trail followed behind it.

Valen understood almost immediately.

He traced the glowing point along the edge of the wound.

Where it passed, his magic followed.

Cells accelerated.

Tissue slowly pulled itself together.

Not instantly.

Not perfectly.

But enough.

Starloris watched every movement.

The tools.

The shapes.

The way Valen’s mana seemed to become whatever he needed to focus it.

Valen barely noticed.

His entire world had narrowed again.

Wound.

Breathing.

Pulse.

Next problem.

The broken leg could wait.

She couldn’t.

Valen raised his hand.

Another piece of green light began taking shape.

The green light stretched between Valen’s fingers.

This shape was broader.

Flatter.

It wrapped around the woman’s side like a thin band, following the path of the wound.

Valen guided it carefully.

The scattered warmth of his magic tightened again.

Cells responded beneath the construct.

Slowly.

Carefully.

The bleeding weakened.

Valen watched the cloth at her side.

For the first time since he had knelt beside her, no fresh red spread across it.

His breath caught.

It worked.

Not completely.

But it worked.

“Valen?”

Starloris’s voice was quiet.

Valen didn’t look away.

“Give me a second.”

He felt along the edge of the wound through his magic.

Damaged tissue.

Strained muscle.

Too much still wrong.

He could keep going.

For a moment, he wanted to.

Another construct began forming beside his hand.

Then the woman’s breathing changed.

A shallow breath.

Then another.

Weaker.

Valen stopped.

The half-formed tool dissolved.

Enough.

His mother’s voice surfaced again.

Healing is still work.

Valen swallowed.

The body had to pay for every repair he forced it to make faster.

And this one had almost nothing left to give.

He slowly pulled his hands away.

The green-and-gold light faded with them.

Rikk leaned forward immediately.

“You stop?”

Valen nodded.

“For now.”

Rikk looked at the wound.

“Not fixed.”

“No.”

Valen hated how small the word sounded.

“But she isn’t bleeding like she was.”

Rikk stared at him.

Valen adjusted his glasses.

“If I keep pushing her body, I could make her weaker.”

Rikk looked back at his mother.

His claws tightened around her hand.

For a few seconds, he said nothing.

Then he bent closer.

“Vekma…” (mother)

The word came softer than anything Valen had heard from him before.

Rikk continued in his own language.

Valen couldn’t understand any of it.

Some words came quickly.

Others caught in Rikk’s throat.

His mother didn’t respond.

Starloris shifted beside Valen.

“Keep talking.”

Rikk looked at him.

“She might hear you.”

“How know?”

Starloris hesitated.

“I don’t.”

He looked down at the woman.

“But if I were scared and couldn’t open my eyes…”

His fingers curled against his knees.

“I’d want to know someone was there.”

Rikk stared at him for a moment.

Then lowered his head again.

He spoke to his mother.

Longer this time.

Quieter.

Valen checked her pulse once more.

Still weak.

But steadier than before.

Then one of her claws moved.

Rikk froze.

“Vekma?” (mother)

Her fingers twitched against his hand.

Rikk grabbed them with both of his.

“Vekma.”

Her breathing caught.

Her eyelids opened halfway.

Clouded eyes moved across the room before settling on him.

“Rikk…”

His ears lifted.

“Yes. Rikk here.”

Her claws tightened weakly around his fingers.

“Rikk… skar.”

Rikk’s face changed.

Valen didn’t understand the words.

He understood the answer.

“Nsk.”

Rikk shook his head.

“No.”

His mother tried again.

“Rikk… skar.”

Rikk pressed her hand against his chest.

“Nsk.”

His voice cracked.

Starloris looked toward Valen.

“What is she saying?”

Valen shook his head.

Rikk answered without looking at them.

“She say run.”

Nobody spoke.

Rikk bent over his mother’s hand.

“Rikk not run.”

Her eyes started closing again.

“Rikk take Mother home.”

For the first time since entering the room, Valen let himself breathe.

They had found her.

She was alive.

And she was stable enough to move.

Valen looked down at his hands.

A faint trace of green still clung to his fingertips.

He had done it.