He did not respond.
King Elijah watched silently. His eyes remained on his son.
Aire closed her eyes. A warm feeling stirred awake in her. Her fingers began glowing faintly, and soft silver light gathered beneath her skin.
Nate inhaled sharply.
The witches didn't move.
Aire opened her eyes. "Give me a bowl." Her voice came out thick, and hoarse. As though her throat were filled with cold. "And water." She added.
The eldest witch immediately turned.
"A bowl."
One of the younger witches rushed forward. Another followed. Within seconds, a shallow silver bowl was brought to Aire.
It was filled with clear water.
Aire looked at it, then at her own hair from her reflection. She reached toward the side of her head.
Her fingers caught one strand of silver hair.
She looked at it for a moment. "Blade?"
Nate reached into his pant, and a thin blade of silver light appeared between his fingers.
Nate stepped forward. "Aire?"
