Calder turned to Curly, who stood frozen in abject terror, letting out little choking gurgles.
Calder was limping, listing to the side, his breathing so raspy and labored it echoed through the room. But he didn't hesitate, taking two steps until he stood over Curly, staring down at him. He took him by the shoulders and dragged him across the room.
Curly started to beg, and Calder pushed him into the barrier, pinning him there, suspended inside the deadly magic of it.
He screamed, and he…smoldered and melted, and—I turned my face away, retching. Gods, he deserved it, but I couldn't watch. The smell filled the room, and I choked, hanging in my chains.
Calder was dying, he'd killed them, but he was dying—
Calder came back to me, moving more slowly, his face nearly unrecognizable for the horrors of what the magic had done to him.
He took one manacle in his hands and ripped it open, the metal squealing and the magic of it sparking. It clattered to the ground.
