Thalion was too mentally unstable to use any spells right now. That much was obvious. His hands still trembled, his eyes still darted to shadows that weren't there, and the mana around his fingers had fizzled out completely—whether from exhaustion or trauma, Jason didn't know.
Jason knew that they could easily camouflage if Thalion cast something. But if he cast anything right now, there was no telling what could happen. He had just shown he had no control over his magic by killing that orc. The next spell might hit Jason. Or Ylva. Or a building full of innocent people.
So Jason managed to cover him up instead.
He stripped off his own shirt—already stained, already ruined—and wrapped it around Thalion's shoulders, pulling the fabric up over the elf's silver hair. The blood on Thalion's clothes was still wet, still obvious, but the shirt covered the worst of it.
"Keep your head down," Jason muttered. "Don't look at anyone. Don't speak."
