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Memnon’s thumb strokes my cheek from where he cups it.You’ve lost a lot of blood. Too much. You need to rest.

I can’t.My eyes move to the darkened forest where the witches fled. Where Yasmin?—

His gaze follows mine.

Memnon turns back to me. “Where are they?” His voice carries a dark, lethal note to it.

The witches, he means.

“They ran,” I say hoarsely.

“I’ll find them,” he says menacingly. I remember that menace in all its horrific glory. The fields of dead soldiers, the blood he sometimes wore like a second skin.

Memnon rises, the shadows catching on that scar of his. But it’s his eyes that are the most sinister. They still glow like dying embers, and though I know it’s only his magic that makes his irises smolder like that, the effect is downright villainous.

“Stay here,” he says. With that, he turns and disappears into the Everwoods.

For several seconds, all I hear are my own ragged breaths. My eyes scan the darkness until I see the slumped form of Nero.

I make a small sound, forcing myself up. Every muscle protests.

I told you not to move, Memnon chastises down our bond. He must’ve sensed my pain.

I’m the one who gets to be bossy, I say, dragging myself to my familiar.

I let out a shaky sob when I see the state he’s in. Despite my earlier magic, my panther’s wounds are still open and still sluggishly bleeding. I can sense oily magic churning inside him. Whatever curses they placed on him, they haven’t evaporated away yet.

Memnon!I all but cry out down our bond.Come back. I…I think I’m losing Nero.

“Bind the flesh. Mend what has been torn and broken. Heal the wounds within. Make Nero whole once more.” I incant the spell for the third time since I fell to my familiar’s side, pouring my heart and what’s left of my magic into it. The pale orange plumes of my power sink into his body just as they have the last two times.

His wounds heal for a few moments before my spell gets no further. I want to scream, but the sound keeps getting trapped beneath this knot of fear in my throat.

The forest has gone unnervingly quiet. It’s just me and my helpless grief. I’m losing my familiar, and there’s nothing I can do.

I pet Nero softly, my touch light. “Though the pain exists, you shall no longer feel it,” I whisper.

My panther nudges my hand, his body relaxing just a touch. I begin to sob then, bowing my head over him.

“I’m sorry, so sorry, Nero. I never meant for this to happen.” I should’ve been more cautious with him. It’s easy enough for me to be brave in the face of threats, but my familiar is another matter altogether. He’s a true weakness of mine, and the witches who attacked him know that.

Yasminknows that. I cry a little harder, even as my vision darkens at the edges and a shiver racks my body.

Memnon’s strong, warm hand falls to my shoulder. “Save your tears, little witch. You are not losing anyone tonight.”

I glance up at him, my heart giving a hopeful stutter, as the sorcerer scoops up an unconscious Nero and settles the big cat over his shoulder.

I’m about to stand when Memnon bends down and scoops me up in his other arm.

“If you think I’m going to let you walk in the state you’re in, you better start revisiting those old memories of ours,” he says, striding into the forest.

I lean my head tiredly on his shoulder, not bothering to fight him or revisit those old memories.

Thank you for coming, I say down our bond. Distantly I’m aware that I must be in bad shape to be, of all things,thankingMemnon.

Memnon’s mood darkens.I got here too late.

Maybe for the battle,I say,but not for me and Nero.