“If you can’t hold more than one spell, how were you going to bind the demon without lowering your barrier?” Zelna asked while Kamira looked over her wounds.
They stopped to rest after the night’s trek toward the mountains, away from the slaughter site. The campfire flames provided warmth but not enough light, and dawn was slow to come, so a small lumisphere floated by Kamira’s face. “I can hold two spells,” she muttered, focused on her task. “Otherwise I’d be fixing you in the dark.”
The gashes on Zelna’s back still bled, and Kamira pushed the skin closer together, watching the scar lines. She’d learned enough from Veelk to know they didn’t need to be aligned, but the healing worked better when they were. Of course, she’d never openly admit to having knowledge of his tribe’s workings an
