The moment they returned to the den, the victory they thought they carried didn’t last long.
One by one, each of them was dragged—or half carried—into the healing quarters. The healers didn’t even waste time with greetings. The smell of demon poison still clung to their skin, seeping through the cuts and bruises left from the fight.
The guardians and dragons were laid out on stone beds as white-robed healers rushed around them with bowls of glowing water and sharp tools. Small knives cut away pieces of armor melted from demon fire, and gentle hands pressed herbs into wounds. Whenever the green poison hissed against the salves, the air filled with smoke, and the healers’ faces tightened in concentration.
Emily gritted her teeth as a healer stitched a cut across her thigh, while Eric trie
