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Before they stepped through the magic gate, Mira glanced over her shoulder. Amelia steadied Harrington. His sleeve was soaked in blood.

He shook his head when he noticed Mira’s stare. “Don’t worry about me. Go with him. We’ll be right behind you.”

She followed her friends through the magic gate, and they made their way back to Ivercrest. Aidric went in and out of consciousness, and Mira tried to stabilize his magic levels as much as possible on the journey back.

When they finally made it to the infirmary, Obryn began yelling commands at a group of healers. They took Aidric into an examination room. When Mira wanted to follow, the Highmage stopped her.

“I want to be by his side,” she said breathlessly.

“I promise you he is in good hands.” He snapped his fingers at a healer and pointed at Mira. “Do a full workup on her.”

With that, he closed the door to Aidric’s room.

The healer walked up to Mira and directed her to a bed.

“Please take a seat,” the healer said. “Miss? I need to take a look at your arm.”

She looked down and realized her sleeve was torn, exposing her scar.

For the first time, she didn’t care.

Her scar no longer held power over her.

48

Mira demanded to look at her chart. She wanted to make sure the healer had come to the same conclusion she had—that for the first time, there was no more Synth under her scar.

She had forgotten what her magic felt like without its cancerous power. Her magic was gentle but powerful. Like a wave. She had never expected to feel this sense of quiet again. Of contentment. Of being happy in her own skin. All these years, she had felt like a stranger in her own body.

She didn’t need to read her chart to know that Synth was finally gone from her body, but seeing those words still felt like a weight lifted off her. With a satisfied exhale, she placed her chart down and eyed the examination room, hoping to catch a glimpse of Aidric.

Obryn had come by to inform her Aidric was doing well and that they had to just run a few more tests.

“Enjoying getting pampered?” Harrington walked up to her bed, his arm in a sling.

“How’s your shoulder?”

“I’ll be good as new in a few days.”

“Thank you. For everything.”

“No need to thank me, Winters. Besides, you did the heavy lifting.” His signature smirk disappeared. “Dawson scared the living spheres out of me with how recklessly he cast massive spells.”

Mira looked back at the closed door of the examination room, not wanting to think about how close to overspending his powers Aidric had been.

Amelia materialized practically on top of Harrington, caught her coin, and wrapped her arms around his midsection. “You’re lucky you only hurt your shoulder. If something had happened to you, I would have killed you.”

“Well aware, love.”

Evren and Rylan walked into the infirmary right as Ella and Oliver coin traveled to Mira’s bed.

Ella squeezed her hand. “How are you?”

“I’m fine,” Mira replied, and then turned to Oliver. She knew he held the council in high regard, and Aidric had just assassinated the Primemage. “What…what will you tell the council?”

“The Primemage was killed by Rakkley,” he said with conviction. As if it was true. Then quieter: “Tinley got what she deserved.”

Ella bombarded her with questions about her magic levels, but Mira didn’t listen because the door to the examination room opened and Aidric stepped out. His eyes found hers, and he smiled at her. The dark veins around his eyes and lips had dulled.