Ye did good, Mo Chuisle, Lyra praised, pressing her nose to his forehead. She'd hesitated to embrace him outright — a display which might rightly embarrass him in front of his damsel. But when Lyra's son closed the space she wrapped around him tightly in answer, Ye were brave, I'm proud of ye.

Strange how clench of her heart pained her so. She'd been fighting tooth and nail to save her own life at his age, and here Lonán was saving worlds.

Was that a victory or a failing as a mother?

When he stepped back, she hesitated to let go. We'll see what fancy vittles we can dig up fer ye t'celebrate, howssat sound?

Green eyes affixed next to Dyname, ears pricked. Young thing. Lyra's sympathy didn't extend far past her own brood, but if the girl mattered to Lonán then the Captain supposed she had some benevolence to spare. Besides, there could be profit in it. It wasn't a ransom, exactly, but surely a grateful family would find it in their heart to reward rescuers?

Sister, eh? Well, Howff can 'elp ye find 'er. Well need names an' descriptions, 'o 'er an' whatever territory ye lived in before — all that magic nonsense. Not that the girl looked to be in a fit state for recollecting. But first, why don't we get ye settled an' 'ave a healer look et yer wounds? We've remedies t'elp wit' yer breathin', an' plenty t'elp with pain. I'll call fer Velyre .