The bone was exposed. She had irrigated the wound and now Cali could clearly see the fine crack that threatened to split the femur. She closed her eyes and began to chant quietly under her breath. The words ran into each other forming an indiscernible braid of magic and sound. With her eyes still closed, Cali moved her hand towards the wound. The tips of her fingers brushed the wet flesh that had been pealed back to reveal the break. Using the roll of flesh as a guide, she slid her fingers deeper into the wound until they touched bone. Cali continued to chant, her words now thrumming above the din of the whimpering man who lay before her. Driven by her sound, the power in her heart moved down her arm and through her fingers searching for the fissure. As the cries of healer and patient reached a fevered pitch, Cali’s power crested and the crack was healed. Silence filled the room. Cali pulled back her hand and looked at the reformed bone. Now came the sewing.