“I don’t know what magic you possess, but if you can make my limp less noticeable—” Before she could finish, a force like a cool night wind pushed against her ankle and calf, then wrapped around it in a solid grip. A brace. Her steps evened out, and she had to bite back her urge to gawk at the feeling of walking straight and sure. She didn’t allow herself to enjoy it, savor it, not when it would likely only last until they cleared the bridge.
