"Good, good..." Speaking briefly and low as he searchingly cut his eyes across her, he could debate the extent of her control and how she'd handled it at a later time, when she was somewhere warm and dry and out of earshot. He tried hard to ignore the fact that in a few minutes, perhaps a little less, Emily was not going to be smiling at him. She would not be talking to him, least of all about what she'd just done. And she would definitely not let him know when she started to feel better or worse.
He focused on checking her over instead. There didn't appear to be any injuries beyond sheer exhaustion, which wasn't a great surprise to him. If she was prone to be damaged by her own ability, he suspected she'd have been singed to a crisp by lightning long ago. All the children seemed to have a natural immunity to their own effects, built into their genetic make-up, somehow. Under the circumstances, it was a particular relief.
He decided that calling for further assistance was both unnecessary and more time-consuming, so he opted to do this by himself. There was nothing now to prevent him from securing an arm around the back of Emily's slight frame and propping her up, prepared to lift her the rest of the way if needed. He didn't expect for her to willingly accept his help to get home, but this time he didn't provide the choice.