The healer moved her hand away from Marcus's chest when one of the black bindings tightened around his ribs. She had not touched him, but the movement was enough to show how little strength remained in the shadows. Each shallow breath made the dark threads stretch, and several failed to settle afterward.
"We need to get him onto the stretcher without changing the alignment of his spine," she said. "The problem is, I don't know how much of it those shadows are holding together. If we lift him and they loosen, I won't have time to repair the damage before it gets worse."
Adam looked down at Marcus. "Can you move them? Even a little?"
Marcus's jaw tightened. He had been listening, although the effort of remaining conscious was beginning to make the surrounding voices sound distant. His left side felt empty, and the pain in his right leg faded beneath the pressure in his chest.
Not on my own, he admitted silently.
