After what felt like an eternity, Dominicus returned and shook his head. “I haven’t found anyone else with their scent. But my sense of smell isn’t great to begin with—and the smoke isn’t helping.”

  He scanned the gathered survivors, then exhaled heavily. “I can’t hear any more heartbeats. These are the only ones who made it.”

  Six survivors. Out of who knew how many.

  Despair and rage twisted through me, burning and freezing in my veins by turns. “Whoever did this can’t be allowed to continue.”

  I hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but Dominicus nodded. “I agree. We should—”

  A soft groan cut him off. The girl.

  We both snapped to attention as her eyelids fluttered, then slowly opened. She squinted into the haze, coughing lightly. Recognition dawned in stages—first confusion, then fear—and she jolted upright, eyes wild as she looked around. When she spotted the boy, her whole body sagged with relief. She yanked him into a tight hug.

  “Thank the spirits, you’re okay, Gren!”

  Gren curled into her side, burying himself against her as if trying to block out the world.

  When her gaze found us, the tension returned, sharp and immediate. She tried to scoot back, eyes wide. “Who are you?!”

  I raised both hands in surrender and kept my tone low and calm. “A healer.” I gestured to the moss and mushrooms still clinging to her. “That was me. Sorry about the… foliage.”

  She blinked, touching the moss with a grimace before shaking her head and refocusing. Her sharp gaze swept the trees, scanning for danger. “Are the raiders gone?”

  I nodded, careful not to move closer. “I think so. I just don’t know where they went.”

  Her face twisted with fury. “Back to their camp, probably. They set it up a week ago further down the road. The others were worried they’d try something.”

  She looked around at the carnage, and her voice cracked. “They were right to worry.”

  Henry joined Dominicus beside me, his expression grim. “We’ll head to the camp after we regroup. This atrocity won’t go unanswered.”

  Dominicus and I nodded in agreement.

  The girl’s eyes locked on Henry’s armor, recognition dawning in her gaze. “You… you’re with the resistance, aren’t you? I know that symbol!”

  He nodded. “I’m Henry, leader of the resistance. We’re going to take you and the others somewhere safe.”

  Stolen novel; please report.

  He knelt to meet her eye level. “Can you tell us how many raiders there were? What kind of weapons they used?”

  She nodded, her jaw tightening with cold fury. “Seven. All of them wore hoods, so I couldn’t see what race they were. Most had swords, but one of them—he had some kind of dart weapon.”

  She rubbed her neck with a scowl. “He used us kids for target practice.”

  Target practice.

  That sick bastard had poisoned children for fun.

  The rage I’d buried earlier surged back, ripping through the walls I’d tried to build. “We’ll see how he likes target practice when he’s the one getting skewered.”

  The words hissed out before I could stop them. Dominicus nodded grimly.

  “I usually prefer a clean kill,” he said. “But just this once, I’ll make an exception. We’ll need antidotes before we go. You can only heal so many, and poison’s easier to cure with the right potion.”

  Looks like I’d be cracking open that potion book after all.

  “Got it,” I muttered. I turned back to the kids and managed a smile. “You two ready to meet some friends?”

  The girl nodded and jogged to a half-burned cart resting near the edge of the clearing. “You can use this to carry the adults.”

  Her eyes flicked around the ruin of her home, and she quickly looked away, voice quieter. “There are a lot of people missing. I think… I think the raiders took them.”

  Damn it. Hostages.

  I swallowed my frustration and nodded. “Thanks for letting us know. Can you walk, or do you need to be carried?”

  She shifted her stance, then shook her head. “I can walk—and I’ll carry Gren too.”

  She scooped him up and moved toward the front of the cart, waiting with determined eyes.

  Normally, I’d tell her to take it easy, but I recognized that look. She needed to do something—anything—to keep herself from falling apart.

  If carrying him gave her strength, I wasn’t about to take that away. I’d just keep an eye on her in case she burned out.

  “Alright. Let’s get the others loaded up.”

  With the three of us working together, it didn’t take long to lift the remaining survivors onto the cart. Once we got them back to camp, I’d have to start brewing antidotes.

  Honestly, I should’ve done it sooner. Same with healing potions. I’d figured my spells would be enough.

  That was naive. Dangerous, even.

  If I ran out of mana, someone could die.

  This wasn’t a game, and it was past time I stopped treating it like one.

  First order of business: study the damn book on potions and antidotes.

  If Henry pulled the cart, I could flip through it on the way. With everything we’d found in Silas’s rooms, surely we had the ingredients.

  Maybe I’d even get to use my new spell on that poison-happy bastard…

  Then I remembered how much mana Karma’s Bite used and winced. Right. Probably not.

  Even if I got a full night’s rest, I might need that mana for healing. Forty mana for one cast—it’d burn me out completely.

  As satisfying as it would be to turn him into a roach, healing had to come first.

  I pushed down the disappointment and refocused as we loaded up the last survivor.

  We had a long night of brewing and prep ahead of us.

  After that?

  It was time to take the fight to the raiders.