“What is this?” I whispered.
Quinn stepped up beside us, eyes wide, reverent. “She entered the pool on her own. It didn’t reject her. It embraced her.”
I dropped to Zander’s side, unable to tear my gaze away. The cursed magic that once turned the waters black… was receding. From her.
“She’s healing it,” I whispered.
Zander’s hand trembled where it hovered just above the water. “But at what cost?”
Chapter
Thirty-Eight
The light radiating from Elara grew stronger, like a starburst slowly expanding from her small form. It pushed through the dark waters, searing away the black tendrils that had plagued the pool, corruption burned to nothing beneath her glow.
It wasn’t just cleansing.
It was purification.
The outer edges hissed as they met her light, the darkness recoiling and vanishing like smoke on the wind. And then—Elara’s chest hitched. Once. Twice.
Her serene smile vanished, lips parting as a sharp breath rattled from her lungs.
“Elara?” I started to rise, but Zander was already moving.
He jumped into the pool without hesitation, the water parting around him like it knew him, like it had once known our blood and remembered. He reached her just as her body went limp and caught her in his arms, cradling her close. His expression was wild, desperate.
“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he whispered against her temple, lifting her gently.
He waded back to the edge, water lapping at his chest, his cloak floating behind him like wings. Quinn met him there, already holding out a thick woolen blanket.
Zander stepped out of the water, his boots heavy, his shoulders tense, but Elara stirred in his arms, her fingers curling in his tunic, her head resting against his chest.
She was alive but exhausted.
Quinn wrapped the blanket around her as Zander sank to his knees with her in his lap, his arms caging her like a fortress.
Her voice was barely audible. “Did I help?”
Zander kissed her forehead, his own shaking with a breath he hadn’t taken until now. “You did, Elara. You did.”
Zander cradled Elara in his arms as we made our way back through the tunnels beneath the tower. Her eyes fluttered open now and then, too tired to stay conscious but unwilling to miss the world around her. The soft glow that had radiated from her skin had dimmed, but something in her had changed—settled into something ancient and powerful.
“Why aren’t we taking her to her room?” I asked, glancing at Zander.
Zander didn’t look away from his sister. “Siergen asked to speak with her.”
A tremor of unease curled through me. “Why? She’s exhausted?—”
“She’s safe,” he interrupted softly. “But Siergen said it was important.”
We climbed the final set of stairs and emerged into the moonlight. The Ascension Grounds were quiet—eerily so—but I could feel Kaelith nearby, a steady hum at the back of my mind.
I looked at Elara. “What did you do back there?”
Her voice was a whisper, barely louder than the wind. “The pool called to me. Just one more time. It needed help, so I gave it.”
My throat tightened. One more time? I opened my mouth to press her, but we stepped into the open, and Siergen was already there, waiting at the edge of the training circle like a statue carved from the night itself.
