The wave had receded at dawn, leaving behind the usual aftermath of blood and bodies and the slow, grim work of counting the fallen. I moved among the wounded, my hands glowing with the last remnants of healing light, my body trembling with exhaustion. The ember in my chest had dimmed to a flicker, but it was enough. It had to be enough.
I did not hear the cry go up from the eastern wall. The wind carried the sound away, or perhaps I was too focused on the soldier whose leg I was mending, his bone protruding through his skin, his face grey with shock. But then Runa was beside me, her hand on my shoulder, her voice sharp.
"Rosalind. You need to come. They captured something."
I looked up, frowning. "Captured what?"
"A creature. One of the small ones. It's alive."
