She turned and walked toward the broken archway that led to the outer stair. The others followed—Kael limping, Elara helping Finn, who was starting to shiver. No one looked back.

The question landed like a stone in still water. Kael, the mage, let his staff clatter to the obsidian floor. “Thank? He won’t even look at us. He never does.”

“So,” she said, wiping a streak of black ichor from her cheek, “which one of us do you think he’ll thank first?”

“You were a mage,” Theo said, frowning. “That’s what you were.”