And just like that, the relief that Nicasi felt after talking to Lysander evaporated.
What the fuck was he supposed to do now?
His jaw clenched as he picked up the broken halves of his conduit from the grass at his side. His eyes burned while he glared at the bloody mess that was his leg.
Frustration tightened in his throat, making it difficult to breathe.
He'd seen the look on Wren's face during the attack at the Branch of Logic, and he'd been with him when he almost lost himself to the energy of Ciprian's fear at the inn. Nicasi didn't need Loma's kind of magic to know that it might not just be Rowan who was in danger.
His friends needed him. Both of them.
"Fuck." Nicasi's knuckles whitened as his grip tightened on the pieces of his staff.
Even if he trusted Wren's magic enough to keep the novices safe here with Aiden so he could try to accompany Loma to the garden, it was a bad idea.
