When she pushed the tangled dark hair away from her forehead, her beautiful face showed. She looked maybe a couple of years older than Malachi and me, with an expression that seemed very calm despite her obvious exhaustion.
Malachi stepped onto the dais carefully, his gaze sweeping across the protective circle that still glowed faintly around the altar. "Are you strong enough to stand?"
"I think so," Orisyl said, bracing one hand against the carved stone behind her. She tested her weight on her feet, wobbling slightly. The silver light around the dais flickered once, then faded completely, as if acknowledging her readiness to leave. "I've been resting here long enough. Zaine's protections held, but I'm ready to move."
Malachi offered his hand, and she took it, steadying herself as she stepped down from the dais. "Thank you," she said, dusting off her torn tunic. "I wasn't sure anyone would find this place."
"Can you walk?" Malachi asked.
