The sand shifted, but she saw nothing apart from the swirling and spreading sensation of death. Suddenly her arm was wrenched away from her, she snarled, the sound completely inhuman and foreign to a human throat. She tried to jerk away from the invisible force, but Miles' voice came sharp out of nowhere and with it, the darkness and death vanished as if it had never existed. There was no burned landscape, no blood where Amos had stood. No Amos. But the scent of blood still stung her nostrils, her arms were covered in long gashes that failed to heal. They hurt, but she didn't release her restricting hold on the magic that would have healed them, terrified that it might spring forth and consume everything.

"Miles?"

The tension left her muscles, which were now free to tremble. Valdis let the knife fall out of her hand, still confused and still feeling the remainder of the adrenaline that had kicked in. Her gaze moved up to Miles' face.

""The magic, I couldn't control it" Her voice wavered, "It was going haywire."