Kadaki swallowed, forcing herself to bury her emotions deeper. She needed to be a healer now. She had a patient who needed help. “You can’t speak?” she asked.
He nodded. The movement was minute, but it was better than no movement at all.
“You’re… you’re still healing,” she said, trying to think logically instead of letting her fears get the best of her. “Try not to panic. You have to give it time.”
He nodded slowly.
“Does it hurt?”
He seemed to consider the question, then shook his head.
Most of the Ardanians had stayed back after Kadaki’s display of magical prowess. A few had tried to attack her again after she’d started healing Neiryn, and Rhian and Eliyr and the other elven captives had dealt with them. They’d both found swords, which they now brandished at anyone who came too close.
Roshan knelt beside Kadaki, shielding his face from the rain with one hand. “Here,” he said, holding out a tiny key. Kadaki unlocked Neiryn’s collar, then handed it back. Roshan unlocked Eliyr as Rhian watched warily. He turned to her next, pausing.
“Perhaps we can call this a truce, of sorts?” Kadaki said tiredly. “A real truce, not an Ysuran truce.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Rhian said, arching an eyebrow. “What’s an Ysuran truce?”
“A truce is a peaceful, mutually beneficial agreement between two well-intentioned equals,” Roshan said. “An Ysuran truce is when you say it’s a truce, but you really mean, ‘If you do exactly as I wish, I might not crush you beneath my heel.’”
Neiryn exhaled softly in a soundless laugh, then winced in pain. Kadaki allowed herself to feel a tiny bit of relief. If he felt well enough to laugh, he was not so bad off.
Rhian said nothing, but Roshan went to unlock her anyway. She looked faintly surprised, but turned and bent to give him access to the lock.
Before Roshan could get to the rest of the elves, a roar split the air.
Through the sea of darkness, a spot of bright light appeared in roughly the shape of a dragon. Rhian cursed, raising her sword as the magic-eater stalked toward them. The other elves did the same, as if mere swords would be of any use. Even their fire would only sting it.
Kadaki saw the next few minutes playing out in her mind’s eye. She would fight the magic-eater. It would put itself back together and come back just as strong as before, over and over. Her strength would dwindle until there was nothing left and they could no longer fight.
They could not fight it. Not with the tools they had now. It would kill them all.
Kadaki raised her hands, drawing magic into the shape of a spell to shift the magic-eater somewhere far away. She needed to get it out of the town, away from people it could hurt. The creature raised its head, its jaw opening slightly as if in curiosity as the spell took form around it.
But just as the spell began to coalesce, it fell apart, its components dispersing like ink in water.
Kadaki lowered her hands, her brow knitting. “I can’t cast on it,” she murmured.
Eliyr glanced at her, nervous. “What?”
“There’s something about the makeup of its body,” she said. “The magic energy inside it must interfere with spells cast on it. I can hit it from the outside with flames or other attacks, but I can’t cast directly on it.”
“What do we do, then?” Eliyr said.
“We fight,” Rhian said. “There’s nothing else we can do.”
“No,” Kadaki said. “We have to run.”
“Run where?” Rhian snapped. “It will follow wherever we go.”
A good question. Where could they go where the magic-eater couldn’t reach them? How could she ensure that everyone in town was safe? All while she was running low on magic?
She looked down at Neiryn, who was watching her with a tired expression. She pulled him close to her and began weaving another spell.
“This may be a bit of a bumpy ride,” she said, “but try not to move too much. You’ll make your injuries worse.”
He raised his eyebrows, but obediently folded his arms around her.
