What kind of question was that? Howell frowned in the shadows of the cave. “Lumos,” he tried gruffly. Nothing. Not even a flicker.

“What,” he said flatly. Where in the bloody hell had their magic gone? And what if a dragon was stuck in this cave with them? What were they going to do about it, without magic to help corral it?

And never mind that. Even with no dragons successfully located, the thought of making their way back to the cottage in the snow alone, precisely the way they had come seemed, like an impossible feat in itself. Howell blew out a breath and, in temporary defeat, sat heavily on a jutting rock to rest.

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