Deckard thrust his hands out, his heart in his throat. A circular disk of obsidian crystal formed beneath her. Her body landed on it with athunk.
“That hurt!” she called good-naturedly.
Deckard breathed easily, guiding the disk to drift to the ground. Evylin swung her legs over the edge and leaped the short distance down. He let the magic go.
Ethenn and Ilain approached from the far side of the room. The Terrae Relic glowed brightly in her hands.
Near his side, Brea eyed Deckard with interest. “You have fast reflexes,” she noted.
“It’s not the first time I’ve had to save her life that way,” he said. A tingle rushed along his skin as the magic drifted around his hands. Though Space still murmured in his head, it hadn’t overtaken him. Somehow, he was steady, workingwiththe magic rather than against it. And when he released it, it didn’t fight him.
Evylin’s laughter soothed over him as she stepped up to their side. “Says the man who’s nearly died every time we’ve entered a Keep,” she bantered.
“I did just fine in the Wind and Time Keeps, thank you very much.”
“Hey,” Thom interrupted, kneeling at Rafferty’s side. The weasel sat propped against the column he’d collided with. “We could use some help over here.”
The group hurried over. Rafferty held his side, and his face bore a few scrapes, but he otherwise didn’t look the worse for wear. “What’s wrong?” Deckard asked.
“Not sure,” Rafferty said, then gasped and grimaced. “It hurts to breathe, though.”
Deckard let out a weak laugh. “I can relate,” he said. “Do you think you can run?”
“Maybe,” Rafferty said dubiously.
Ilain crouched next to him and set a hand on his chest. Rafferty let out a small grunt of pain as she prodded him. “You’ve got a fierce touch, lady flame,” he grumbled through clenched teeth. “No wonder little Lox decided it wouldn’t work out.”
Ilain gave him a bland look but ignored the comment. “He’s punctured a lung,” she said. “He can run with us, but he can’t fight.”
“Can you heal it?” Deckard asked.
“The more healing I do, the more energy I lose,” she said, and for the first time, Deckard noticed how tired she looked. “And the more difficult our exit will be.”
Deckard pressed his lips together, drawing in a long breath. His side spasmed, but he tried to ignore it.
Evylin shifted at his side, looking up at him with sudden agitation. “You’re not serious,” she said accusingly.
Ignoring the pain, he furrowed his brow. “What?”
“I can feel what you feel, you idiot,” she said, worried. “Why didn’t you say you were injured?”
Everyone turned to him in shock.
“It’s nothing,” Deckard assured them. “Just a bruise, I’d imagine.”
Thom shook his head and gestured to Ilain. “Check him,” he said.
Deckard sighed as Ilain crossed to him. “Where?” she ordered. He gestured to his ribcage. She pressed on the wound lightly, then huffed. “Oh, yes,” she said in a mocking tone. “You’re completely fine. Just a cracked rib. No problem there.”
“Jonn!” Evylin gasped. “When did this happen?”
“When the Shade knocked me off the path,” he said, trying to placate her. “I’m fine, though.”
“But it hurts?” Ilain asked.
“Yes, but it’s manageable.”
“A cracked rib is manageable?” Brea asked with skepticism.
