Just for a moment, Liya sat beside Emry and was quiet. The fire was spreading; the heat blazed against her skin, and her legs seared with pain, but she could barely feel it.

This was not real.

She clenched her fists and twisted around on one side, ignoring the throbbing agony in her burned legs; the bright chill blazed through every nerve from her eyes to her hands and she poured it like molten light into her broken leg. The bone blazed out white through her skin, snapped up and together with a sickening crunch, and was whole.

The burns stayed but she had no time for them. Carefully, she pushed herself to her feet, casting a half-crazed look over the darkness beyond the firelight.

"Hawk?" she called, and was hit with another wave of bright, sick fear. "Hawk--"

She saw him then, in the flickering darkness. "No," she breathed.