The tunnel seemed endless. Damp walls whispered with old secrets and stale breath. With every step, Xavier leaned heavier on me, his strength bleeding away with the red soaking through his side. I couldn't afford to panic—not when his breathing was ragged, not when he murmured strange names I didn’t recognize in between fits of unconsciousness.

We stumbled into the healer’s den just before dawn.

The place was carved into a hidden cave, moss clinging to the stone, herbs hanging from ropes, and the air thick with incense and knowledge. The woman who answered the door didn’t flinch at the sight of blood. She simply stepped aside and said, “Lay...