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Another burst of blue seared in her periphery.

Cosmina sucked in a quick breath. Sweet heavens. Thank the gods. ’Twasn’t much. Was naught but a barely there glimmer, but oh, how it gave her hope. The blindness wasn’t permanent. Not this time. The bright flash—no matter how quickly gone—told her so. Which meant it was only a matter of time before the darkness faded, her body healed from magical overload, and her sight returned.

Good news. At least, she hoped.

Magic was a tricky beast. Here today, gone tomorrow. Just like her sight. Which meant there were no guarantees. But as the inferno blazed overhead and ash flew, Cosmina allowed faith to rule. ’Twas better than desolation. Belief, after all, was a powerful weapon, and hope its catalyst. Now all she needed to do was survive the onslaught. A distinct impossibility as Andrei roared and fire raged, burning so hot stone crumbled, cascading into an avalanche above them.

CHAPTER TEN

Facedown on the stone floor, Henrik elbow-crawled farther up the passageway. He needed to close the gap and strike from behind. The direct approach would get him killed. Or set on fire, so . . . aye. Only one avenue left to take. Attack from the rear position. Grab Andrei by the throat. Cut off his air supply until he collapsed in an unconscious heap and the firestorm stopped. Henrik grimaced. He didn’t want to do it. Unfortunately, little choice remained. Andrei had lost his goddamn mind. Now panic ruled and the blue flame rolled in a continuous stream from the center of Andrei’s palms, pushing the inferno toward Shay and Cosmina.

He heard Cosmina cough.

The harsh sound pinged off blackened walls, zigzagging in the tight space to reach him. Henrik cursed. That cinched it. No help for it now. Her suffering narrowed his focus. Screw Andrei. His friend could handle the headache in the aftermath. Cosmina couldn’t take much more of the smoky air. Gritting his teeth, he maneuvered into position. Hemmed in by stone, his shoulder cracked against the wall. Pain clawed down his bicep. Fingers of blue flame licked over his head. The scent of burnt wool rose and—

Cosmina yelled something.

Shay murmured and his magic rose, shaping the water into a shield overhead. Crumbling stone hit the frothing barrier and bounced off, cracking against the side walls. A pop-pop-pop sounded as fire roared overhead and water hissed. Relief grabbed Henrik by the balls. Thank Christ. Didn’t know how, his arse. His apprentice was a quick study. Sorcery warped the air, flowing around him as Shay controlled his gift, combating the flames with the only thing that would put it out . . .

Water. A ton of it too.

Another fireball roared along the corridor.

With a quick shift, Henrik struck, clipping the back of Andrei’s head. Teeth bared and blue eyes aglow, his friend swung around. Fire blew sideways and hit the tunnel wall. Rock exploded into shrapnel. His friend stumbled backward. Henrik took advantage, and with fast hands, locked Andrei in a choke hold. Palms pressed against his friend’s nape, he pushed his thumbs into the base of his skull, forced him to his knees, and held on hard.

Powerful magic seethed. Andrei bucked, twin fireballs rising in his palms.

Henrik tightened his grip. “Andrei . . . calm down. You’re out of the hole. No longer in the water. You’re safe, brother. No need to fight.”

Chest heaving, Andrei paused mid-punch. “Henrik?”

“That’s right.”

“I . . .” Andrei twitched. He tried to shake his head. It didn’t go well. Immobilized by the choke hold, he couldn’t move. “What happened? I cannot . . . what . . .”

“You lost your head for a moment. But you’re good now,” Henrik said, grip still firm, refusing to let go.

He couldn’t. Not yet. Mayhap not for a while.

He needed to be sure. Aye, Andrei recognized him now, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t go half-mad again. Panic worked in odd ways. Most of the time it came out of nowhere, blindsiding a man, locking him inside a prison of his own making. Henrik understood the ins and outs. Hell, he was a prime example. Water might not be his trigger, but Lord knew he had one. Tight spaces did it to him every time. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t quell the unease. Or stop his slide into panic.

Tonight stood as an excellent reminder.

His chest went tight. Henrik swallowed hard. Christ, it had been close. If not for Cosmina . . . if not for her hands on his skin, the stirring rise of her scent, the soothing tone of her voice . . .

He clenched his teeth. Thank God for her quick thinking. Had she not stepped in, he would’ve lost his composure and, just like Andrei, spiraled out of control. How she’d known, Henrik didn’t know. Mayhap she’d read the tension in his body. Mayhap it had been the choppy sound of his breathing. Mayhap the Seer in her picked things out of the ether. Whatever the reason, it didn’t matter. Her intervention had saved them all. So forget her connection to White Temple. No matter how uneasy it made him, he accepted her without question now. She deserved his trust, or at the very least, the beginnings of it. He could do that—take a step toward her instead of away, if only to discover more and explore the strange connection he sensed growing between them.

The mental shift made him nervous.

Henrik went with it anyway. Backtracking, after all, wasn’t his style.

“How we doing, Andrei?”

“I’m solid . . . in control now.”

“Good. Keep it that way.” Boots sliding on ash, Henrik pushed to his feet, but kept his grip sure. “I’m going to ease up now.”

His friend nodded. Not much, a simple dip of his chin, but it was enough.

“Don’t lose the fire. Keep the flame burning. We need the light.” Gentling his hold, Henrik slipped one arm free. He held his friend in place with the other for a moment, watching, waiting, gauging the reaction. When Andrei stayed put, and the glow from his palms remained steady, he released the choke hold and pivoted. His gaze skipped over the jagged hole in the floor to find the pair farther up the passageway. “Shay.”

His apprentice raised his head. The bubble surrounding the pair burst and water sloshed, pouring over their shoulders to reach the floor. “Is it safe to come out now?”

Henrik’s lips twitched. Goddamn Shay and his warped sense of humor. Trust him to use a light tone to diffuse a tense situation. “Aye. Is Cosmina—”

“I’m all right.”

Light flickered along the walls, beating back the darkness. Henrik squinted into the gloom, trying to get a read on her. Water pooled on the floor, catching the glint, casting shadows as Cosmina shoved at Shay. His apprentice shifted, untangling their cloaks. Planting her hand on the floor, she pushed herself upright.

Legs curled beneath her, she glanced his way. “Half-drowned, but all right.”

The hitch in her voice told a different story.

His heart sank in the center of his chest. She was nowhere near all right and . . . Christ. The look on her face—the pain and exhaustion, the vulnerability and fear. Nothing, however, compared to the shock. Weak from blood loss, hampered by injury, she shivered as the heat faded and the cold returned. With a frown, Henrik studied the gaping hole between them, searching for a safe way across the void. The need to soothe her rumbled through him.

Which was, well . . . surprising, actually.

He wasn’t the coddling kind. Wasn’t the least bit possessive either. He didn’t yearn for commitment or anything long-term. Women came and went. Fast, fun, easy to forget in the aftermath of mutual pleasure. No need to hang around, never mind become entangled. But as he watched Cosmina struggle to her knees, his admiration for her grew. So brave. Trying so hard to be strong. Refusing to ask for help.