I try to respond, but can't form the words. My tongue feels swollen, my throat raw. Instead, I sink deeper into the darkness that keeps pulling at me, dragging me under.

"No. Fight it." Typhon's voice grows more urgent. "The void magic seeks to sever our tether. It would leave you vulnerable, and I refuse to lose another human. Not after all the trouble you've been."

I want to tell him I'm trying, but the cold is seeping into my bones, making it impossible to resist the pull of unconsciousness. Just before I slip away completely, I feel a surge of warmth from somewhere outside myself—a flicker of fire magic, hot and bright, pushing back against the encroaching void.

Raith. It has to be him.

The last thing I remember is Typhon's voice, closer now: "Interesting. The fire touched is lending you strength through the tether, thin as it may be."

Then nothing.

I don't know how long it has been before I finally wake with my thoughts more clear, but my body is still diminished.

There's soft linen beneath my fingertips. Warmth enveloping me. I'm in a bed, but not my own.

I force my eyes open, blinking against even the dim light of a single candle burning beside the bed. Everything hurts, my muscles aching as if I've been training for days without rest. My mouth is dry, my lips cracked and bleeding. Even the simple act of breathing sends dull waves of pain through my chest.

"Water," I croak, the word barely audible even to my own ears.

A figure moves at the edge of my vision, and then Raith is there, his face illuminated by the soft glow of the candle as he holds a cup to my lips. I drink greedily, letting the cool liquid soothe my parched throat. It tastes impossibly sweet.

When I've had enough, he takes the cup away, his movements careful and precise. Now that my vision is clearing, I can see the dark circles under his eyes, the tension in his jaw. He hasn't been sleeping.

"How long?" I manage when I finish, my voice still raspy.

"Two days," Raith answers, his voice rough with exhaustion. "You've been drifting in and out."

Two days. I try to sit up, but my arms tremble beneath me, refusing to support my weight. Raith's hand at my back steadies me, warm and solid.

Two fucking days? We're not allowed to simply miss classes here. Missing a single day is enough to earn punishment that ranges from extra physical training to remedial lessons, and, of course, marks against our evaluation score. I can tell I'm not in the healer's room, either, so what the hells are they telling our instructors? The panic must show on my face, because Raith's expression softens slightly.