"Will they come back?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Kael opened his mouth, then closed it. The truth was, he didn't know. He didn't want to lie. He glanced at Liora, but for once, the rogue wasn't smirking, wasn't teasing him with an easy answer. He simply watched.
Kael's throat felt tight. He thought of the way Seyrik had vanished into thin air, of the way the creatures had unraveled like shadows given form. He thought of the symbols burned into the forest floor, of the unnatural hum that still clung to his skin, like a presence that refused to fade.
He didn't know.
Liora crouched, meeting the child's gaze with an expression that, for once, wasn't distant amusement or sharp-edged sarcasm. His voice was quiet but firm.
"If they do," Liora said, "you'll be ready next time. And if you aren't, you run. Got it?"
The child hesitated, her small hands tightening at her sides. Then, slowly, she nodded.
