“He’s burning up,” said Taeleia, laying her hand on a round object swathed in cloth—a head of spiky black hair, mostly obscured by hood, scarf, and coat.
A frisson of realization shot through Roxanne. She drifted out of her corner, approaching the table.
“Did the sentries get any information out of him?” asked Taeleia.
Danisan shook his head. “He asked for you and collapsed.”
Taeleia’s face fell. “I am diminished since the necromagic touched me. I don’t have the strength for this.”
Roxanne leaned past Danisan and peered over Taeleia’s head to see what in Shivnath’s name had warranted this chaos.
Her heart stopped.
“Effrax,” she whispered. She stared blankly at the face, so familiar and yet so vastly, heartbreakingly changed. His eyes were closed and his lips were cracked, parted wit
