The screams still echoed in the room even after Lyra stopped. Her body trembled violently against mine as I held her, my own heart hammering against my ribs. Every instinct I had was on high alert, as though the black-robed priest might materialize in the room at any moment.
"Breathe, Lyra," I whispered, stroking her hair. "You're safe now."
Ronan hovered nearby, his usual confidence replaced by obvious concern. His eyes never left Lyra's face, and his hands kept clenching and unclenching at his sides as though he was physically restraining himself from reaching out to her.
Theronius quickly administered more of the blue powder, his movements efficient but gentle. "This will help neutralize the Ether's effects," he explained. "The memory triggering was more severe than anticipated."
