“Lore—” Castor’s expression was pained and frightened. She watched, her hand still outstretched, as blood blossomed on his drenched shirt, pouring from a single gaping wound on the left side of his chest. Through his heart. Lore screamed, surging forward to catch his arm, but she was too slow. His lips formed a last, silent word. Lore. The life left his eyes, extinguishing the sparks of power. Castor slid back over the edge of the outcrop, into the water below.
