Professor Valerius spoke in a rough whisper. "Elara… I… I am so sorry."
The words were not an explosion. They were an emptiness.
The harbor noises—the wailing parents, the yelling officials, the groaning ship—all of them receded into a distant, echoing roar. Elara's eyes, those vibrant violet eyes so reminiscent of her son's, never left Valerius. She saw his anguish, his defeat. She saw Dain, twenty feet off, his face in his hands, his wide shoulders quivering with silent weeping. She saw Ilya, standing like a statue of ice, her silver eyes wide and empty, looking at nothing. She saw Kaelan Brightblade, the golden prince, kneeling on the flagstone dock, his body shaking, his face a horror of shocked guilt.
And she also witnessed the Senior healers carrying Lia to the hospital.
She saw everyone.
Everyone, save Kairen.
