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a couple of ideas on how to attempt a healing. Royster is convinced that the Flow has something to do with this. Lisette told us about how the Flow reached out to you at Winterstide, and how Raen led you down to the chamber below Dark Haven to try to heal the Flow.”
    Carina nodded, remembering. The Flow was a great river of power that ran from the far north underneath Dark Haven and through the southern plains of Margolan and beyond. It had been damaged eleven years before, when the dark mage Foor Arontala tore the Soulcatcher orb, the prison of the Obsidian King’s spirit, from where it had been secured within the power of the Flow. That damage affected the magic that drew on the Flow’s power, gradually making it more unstable, aiding blood magic and impeding light magic. Of late, the Flow had become volatile, and Carina had seen the effects of that volatility on her own magic. “What do you have in mind?”
    Taru took a deep breath. “Curing what Malesh did is beyond the normal scope of my healing. But if you’re willing, I want to try to tap into the Flow and channel it to magnify the healing energy.” She took a deep breath. “I don’t know what will happen. The Flow has been violently unstable. But I think Royster’s instincts are correct—the Flow is part of this, somehow.”
    Carina met Taru’s eyes. “I’ll do whatever it takes. When do you want to start?”
    A few minutes later, Carina sat in a chair facing Taru. Riqua, Royster and Lisette stood at a distance, watching closely. Taru took Carina’s hands in hers and closed her eyes, concentrating. Carina did the same, focusing her healing power on the bond Taru opened between them. Taru reached out her magic, opening herself to the Flow.

    Carina felt the familiar tingle of the Flow’s power. It grew stronger, until the air around them crackled with strong magic. Carina fought down fear. She could feel the fluctuations in the Flow, random surges and drops that would make drawing on its power very unpredictable.
    Carina focused her concentration on Taru, who was weaving her magic to the very core of Carina’s being, seeking to find and heal the tendrils of Malesh’s pollution. Taru’s power increased, and Carina stiffened, barely keeping herself from crying out as Taru probed at the changes that made Carina neither living nor dead.
    A blinding flash of light crackled through the room, and with it, along the channels of magic, a searing blast. Carina heard a scream. The power of the blast threw her from her chair, knocking her across the room. Her head swam as if she had slammed against a rock, and the pathways of magic ached from the recoil. Carina opened her eyes as Royster bent over her.
    “Are you all right?”
    Carina nodded weakly, struggling against a throbbing reaction headache. Royster helped her sit. On the other side of the room, Riqua and Lisette knelt beside Taru, who lay sprawled near the broken pieces of her chair. With Royster’s help, Carina made her way to Taru’s side.
    “She’s breathing,” Riqua said. She looked at Carina. “The Flow?”
    Carina nodded, and wished she hadn’t as her head throbbed. “It’s as wild as when I went down to the catacombs. Healing magic doesn’t usually draw directly from the Flow the way other magic does. If it’s this difficult to manage healing, how is Tris fighting a war in Margolan?”
    Riqua shook her head. “With great difficulty, I assume. Taru says that a number of Sisters have gone rogue and followed him as battle mages. He’ll need all the luck we can wish for him.” Taru stirred, and they turned their attention to her. Lisette lifted Taru easily and carried her to the divan.
    “Not exactly what I planned,” Taru said with a weak smile. Carina clasped her hand.
    “I’m sorry that you got hurt.”
    Taru shrugged. “Not the first time I’ve paid a price for magic. Can you tell—did it make a difference?”
    Carina closed her eyes and searched her power. The strange sense