“I’m all right,” Isla insisted, though she didn’t try to pull away. “It’s just a sprain.”
Ilain stepped over, slightly out of breath. “We’re fifty yards from the Chamber entrance,” she said. “We need to get there now before the next wave comes. Once inside, I’ll check to ensure it isn’t broken.”
“Let’s go, then,” Thom said, gesturing toward the cleared path. Together, he and Brea took the lead.
Vayden lifted Isla in his arms despite her protests and raced for the door. The soft beginnings of the rustling hum reached them just as they tumbled into the stairwell. He set his wife down on the stone steps, and Ilain crouched before her.
Evylin turned to Deckard and Rafferty, worry in her eyes. “Are either of you injured?” she asked, scanning both of them with a frantic inspection.
Deckard brushed her arm comfortingly. “We’re fine.”
“Speak for yourself,” Rafferty grumbled. “I was nearly eaten by a tree.”
Thom and Brea chuckled while Ilain stood. “It isn’t broken,” she said. “I could heal it, but—”
“No, save your strength,” Isla said. “I’ve already used too much magic on my own to take down the Guardian. I’ll lose consciousness if I do. Someone will have to carry me either way, but Icanfight on the way out if I retain enough energy now.”
“It’d be an honor to be your carriage, my dear,” Vayden teased, helping her rise.
Ilain chewed on her lip. “I can heal it now,” she insisted. “The two of us can take the Guardian down together, sharing energy.”
“It will weaken you too much, Ilain.” Isla held her gaze. “Terrae is not only your lowest Elemental resource, which you’ve already had to tap into to save me, but you aren’t even supposed to manage Day. We can’t risk you healing each of our minor wounds.”
“That’s why she’s got Ethenn, though, right?” Rafferty said.
Ilain flinched, and Ethenn shifted awkwardly at Brea’s side.
Deckard frowned, noting their discomfort for a second time since they’d entered the Keep. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Nothing,” Ilain said.
Ethenn dropped his eyes to the stone steps. “Would it help?” he asked Ilain.
She hesitated, facing away from him. “It would.”
Without a word, he stepped forward and held out his hand.
Crouching back down, Ilain set one hand on Isla’s ankle and the other in Ethenn’s palm. After a quick burst of orange light, she released them both.
Immediately, Ethenn moved away. He looked up at Deckard. “We’ve decided to end our betrothal, sir,” he said. “That’s all.”
The entire stairwell fell silent as the troop gaped at them.
Evylin’s lips parted in shock. “Why?” she asked.
Ilain bore up, her expression turning faintly amused. “You can stop gaping at us now,” she said. “We determined that our paths don’t align, that’s all. Now, shall we retrieve this Relic and get out of here?”
Though a long pause lingered, Deckard motioned toward the descending stairs. Slowly, the troop began their journey down. “Isla, do you still feel you can’t take down the Guardian?” he asked.
“It wouldn’t be wise,” Isla admitted as she limped down the steps. Ilain’s magic had given her the ability to walk again, but the ankle was clearly still sore. “Even with Ilain’s help. If we want me conscious on the way out, that is.”
Deckard pursed his lips, breathing through the aching pain in his side. “I don’t think I could manage it,” he said. “I’ve no concept of what Terrae magic feels like.”
Ilain glanced over her shoulder at him. “I can manage it,” she said, then cleared her throat. “But I will need support. FromanyWarrior.”
There was a beat before Ethenn said, “I’ll do it.”
“You don’t have to—”
