Dorain watched the last of the enemy flee, making sure it was no ruse. She spotted Brogan, who appeared to be injured. He was nursing burns to his hands and face. He was fortunate, for the burns appeared to be superficial, though painful. He gestured her away, pointing.
Lily!
The water-nymph sat on the ground, seeing nothing, with Anest kneeling before her, his face grey with apprehension. Dorain kelt beside them as Anest muttered, "I don't understand. There's no spell at work here. Why can't I reach her?"
With a nod to Dorain, Brogan rose and approached Anest. "Anest," he said, "Listen to me. Dorain knows how to care for Lily. Help me to bandage these hands, will you?"
Dumbly, Anest looked at Brogan's hands. Then his face. "Shades, Brogan! I am sorry. I am not thinking. Of course. Belloc!" They moved off to where Belloc stood examining the remains of the Warlock.
The moment Anest had his back turned, Dorain removed her glove and struck Lily across the cheek. Her eyes came abruptly back into focus, and her breath came in whooping sobs. Hugging the girl, rocking her, Dorain said, "Shush, shush little one. Men can be so useless sometimes. Everything is all right; we're all still here."