'It's not a portal?' Auraculum demanded again. 'I don't understand; the Faeries travelled through as they would have done-'
Hilgarda pointed at its fluctuating energy, her paw slick with blood, yet she was still ready to explain it in layman's terms. Then Stephen appeared, with cuts and bruises covering his face and both arms broken, having been twisted behind his back. And in his eyes, I saw what we'd encountered all too often on Nightingbloom, he was a man lacking free-flowing thought, now only existing to serve a single purpose, and I didn't need to guess what that might be.
Lacking the manoeuvrability of someone with fully functioning limbs, Stephen limped towards me and no one else. Hilgarda hurried away to hide behind rubble, I'd thought, but a few seconds later, she crept out with a rifle twice her size.
