Towers.”
Another step closer. But no more.
Erawan went still. Tried and failed to
move.
Looked at the stones of the balcony then.
At the bloody mark he’d stridden across, too
focused on his prey to notice.
A Wyrdmark. To hold. To trap.
The young healer smiled at him, and the
white light around her hands winked out as
her eyes shifted from gold to sapphire. “I’m
not Yrene.”
Erawan whipped his head to the skies as
Lysandra, in ruk form, came sweeping around
the tower from where she’d been hiding on its
other side, Yrene clutched in her talons.
Erawan’s power swelled, but Yrene was
already glowing, bright as the far-off dawn.
Lysandra opened her talons, delicately