“We will need Urien.” Naerin turned his wrist over and held it out to Siana. “When I was seven, I got this wrist caught on some coral and tore it severely. I nearly bled out and to this day had quite a nasty, ropey scar.” The flesh of his wrist was smooth and unmarked. “Siana, you healed a years old injury without trying. You will be a truly strong healer, but right now you are in enormous danger.”

“What, why?” Siana’s timer went off, phone buzzing in her back ...