Sinbad turned.
And walked back to where his sister still lay slumped, dazed on the cold marble floor.
Huda looked like a wreck—eyes glassy, cheeks flushed, hair messy from the impact earlier.
He stood over her, eyes of a similar pink glowing softly.
A coo—deep, low—echoed from him, and his left wing reached out again.
This time, it tapped her on the chest.
Right over her second heart.
FWHMP.
A pulse of soft golden light burst from the point of contact.
It was a touch of healing. One that was total... Immediate.
Dizziness left her. Her vision sharpened. And her headache disappeared like it never existed.
She blinked up at him, still sluggish but now fully awake.
"What... what was that for?!"
She groaned as she sat up, rubbing her temple.
"Your thing head-butted me into the ground!"
Sinbad didn't answer immediately.
He tilted his head all owl-like, and when he finally spoke, it was with that same crisp, noble voice they were still not used to:
