“I don’t think you can kill this with a blade.” She glanced back at the temple. “I was picking parasols and tripped on a tree root. I caught my balance on the first step. A witchlight grew in the temple’s center after that.” She described the burgeoning column, the shapes trapped inside it and the appearance of the phantasmic figure with the possessed eyes who greeted her with a raised hand and a strange word. Silhara’s harsh features sharpened even more at her tale. She was on the verge of telling him of her Gift’s resurrection when he interrupted her. “Where’s Cael? He should have stayed with you.” His gaze went from tree to tree, looking long into the woodland murk. Martise shrugged. “He’s off hunting I think. There didn’t seem to be any reason for him to stay. I thought it safe. I didn’t see any of your safeguards, and Cael sniffed the perimeter. No reaction from him.” Silhara eyed the ruin, his scowl deepening. “And none from the ruin until you touched the step.”
