Wirasena's arms tightened around his granddaughter on pure instinct, the scholar's face draining of color as the ember dish's gray white light spilled across the room and every lamp dimmed in answer. "What's happening to her," he demanded, looking between Rama and Sekar with the raw, helpless fear of a man who had only just gotten his granddaughter back and could already feel her slipping again.
"Something's inside her," Sekar said, already pulling their daughter further back, putting her own body between the child and the room's center. "It's been there since the compound. We think it just heard its own name and woke."
