My blood ran cold. Reeling, I felt as though all the oxygen had left my body as the room closed in on Mirala’s face. Mirala stretched out her hands.
“I’m so, so, sorry, Essa!” she breathed, but I couldn’t move.
Mirala’s voice and eyes ached with me. I jerked my head like I was pulling a rope against the spinning of the room, forcing it to halt.
“We can get them back -” The answering flinch made me trail off. “…You’re going to say that we can’t.”
“No one has reclaimed anyone from Typhon, Essa. But you may be able to.”
Regardless of what made her think I could, I waved all extraneous questions aside, bent only on one thing.
“What do I have to do?”
Mirala folded her hands within the sweeping sleeves of her gown.
“To tell you that is to tell you a great many things we feared to. I fear it will put much more weight on your shoulders, Essa, but you will find the answers you’ve been missing.”