(BLUE'S POV)
The ancient elf held Henry tighter, his presence commanding attention. "I can keep him alive for five days and longer, if necessary."
"How?" I demanded. "What magic can possibly sustain him through this?"
Haelorian didn't answer with words.
Instead, he leaned closer to Henry, cupped his face with both hands, and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead.
Light bloomed from where his lips touched Henry's skin.
It spread like watercolors bleeding across parchment—golden and silver and something else, something ancient that I couldn't name. The light fell down Henry's face, his neck, his shoulders, flooding through his entire body until he was glowing from within.
And then, slowly, miraculously, Henry began to change.
His shoulders straightened.
His breath deepened.
His skin, which had been pale and clammy, warmed to a healthy flush.
The blood stains on his lips faded, and the tremors that had been wracking his body ceased entirely.
Henry stood up.
On his own.
