In the middle of the night, Ilkar paced the length to Karl's cottage, his mind racing, his body still trembling from what Eiravyne did to him .
Karl, deep in sleep, jolted awake at the sudden noise. His hand instinctively reached for the dagger he kept by his bed, but seeing Ilkar's silhouette in the doorway, he relaxed slightly, though his heart still pounded in his chest.
"Ilkar? What is it?" Karl mumbled, still half-asleep, trying to shake off the drowsiness.
Ilkar's voice was low and urgent, laced with a barely contained fury. "She did it, Karl. Eiravyne broke through the spell. She remembered everything."
Karl's eyes widened, the last vestiges of sleep vanishing as he sat up, swinging his legs off the bed. "What? How? The spell was supposed to be—"
