Airam swayed.
Hermione caught her before she could fall into the mud.
The last of the black runes faded from Airam's fingers, leaving dark marks beneath the skin of her hands and wrists. Her breathing was slightly broken. The destructive witchcraft had taken more from her than she wanted anyone to see, and it took a lot from her to pull back from that urge.
Hermione held her upright.
"You are hurt," she whispered.
"I am standing."
"That is not an answer."
Airam did not reply.
Across the clearing, Hendrick pushed himself up from the mud.
Blood covered one side of his face. His armor had been cut open in several places, and he moved with the stiffness of someone whose body had been pushed far beyond its limits. Yet he was alive.
Rina lay a short distance away.
