Rowan began to sing. The woman on her knees and the woman in the bed took on the shimmery gray quality of his liminal vision as his voice spun its magic around them. He frowned as he reached out with his magic to probe Tamlyn's resting form.
Rowan had learned that he and Wren could both see Disorder while peering through the shadows, but they differed when looking at a living or once living thing. Unlike Wren who could see someone's life force, Rowan could only see death. Even so, he could usually feel someone's life energy, especially someone with any level of magical development. Right now he saw and felt nothing.
He knew Tamlyn and the others were still alive, but a kind of shell encased the spirit of the person before him. It was hard and impermeable, and the whole thing was covered in a sickly film, like a rotting grape.
