The rock nodded to Briar. “I did think you would be larger, from Evumeimei’s descriptions,” it said. Briar did not see a mouth move, but the voice definitely came from the rock. “I am honored to meet the one who has meant so much to her.”

Briar thought about it for a moment, then looked at Rosethorn. “You gave me another dose of painkiller potion, didn’t you? I’ll take willow tea from now on.”

Evvy’s tale was a long one. The healers fed Briar and changed his bandage as she told it. By the time she was done, Parahan, Souda, Lango, and Jimut had come to listen, not having heard every detail. If he hadn’t been clutching her arm most of the time, Briar would have thought it another mad dream, from her capture to her travels deep in the earth until they had found Sayrugo’s army.

Sayrugo had agreed to transport Evvy and Luvo to Melonam, where they were supposed to join the troops led by Captain Lango and his companions. They would have done so, too, but their force had come across Yanjingyi soldiers chasing fifty warriors led by Soudamini. Now the Gyongxin and Realms troops were joined, and Sayrugo was in command.

“If you’re up to a wagon ride, we’re close to Melonam,” Rosethorn told Briar when Evvy had finished. “You’ll be more comfortable in a proper bed than here.”

“I don’t need a wagon,” Briar protested, swinging his legs to the side of the cot. “I can sit on a horse.” He put his feet down and stood, or tried to. His thigh hurt so much that he bit the inside of his cheek until it bled. He sat down.

“Wagon,” Rosethorn said. Jimut nodded and left the tent.

To save his self-respect, Briar looked at Luvo. “If you’re a mountain, how did you get so small?”

“Your manners are as dreadful as ever,” Rosethorn murmured. She was measuring pain-killing medicine into a cup.

“This part of me is the heart of the mountain, and much of its mind,” Luvo explained, turning his head knob so he appeared to look at Briar with the pits that served as his eyes. “I do not think your manners are dreadful. I have only Evumeimei to measure by. Never before did I believe that meat — that humans were worth the trouble to converse with, so I have no standard for their manners.”

“Evvy also thinks we humans aren’t worth the trouble to talk to.” Briar looked at Rosethorn. “Rosethorn, I thought we agreed, no more of that stuff.”

“We have to lift you into the wagon, my dear.”

Oh, this was very bad. The cut must be deeper than he realized, if she was not blistering him for being rude to Luvo, or telling him to be silent and take his medicine. He watched while she dropped another liquid into the cup.

“Don’t worry,” she said, and smiled. “This will make it taste so bad you won’t care about the rest.”

Evvy, sitting quietly by Luvo, actually giggled.

Briar gulped the potion. It was even viler than Rosethorn had hinted it would be. He struggled until he was sure he wouldn’t bring it back up again. As his head spun, he mumbled, “Rosethorn, take my seed bombs.”

“I already have,” she told him as she beckoned to Jimut and another helper. They did their best to lift Briar gently, but he still screamed once before he fainted.

A crimson naga pecked his forehead like a bird, one head after another. Briar tried to tell her that snakes don’t peck, but she ignored him. He woke in a jolting, bumping wagon. His leg ached. He wanted to throw up. He wanted to dig a hole in Gyongxe all the way to the world’s molten heart and bury Weishu and his mages there, where they would never smell another rose.

“Does it hurt so much?” asked a very deep voice by his elbow. “Even when Evumeimei wept in her sleep her face did not make that shape.”

Briar turned his head. The day was too bright; he shaded his eyes so he could see the talking rock. “I wasn’t thinking of pain,” he mumbled. “I was thinking of revenge.”

“I think about revenge, too,” Evvy said. She was on Briar’s other side, leaning against his packs. “I want to dump a few Drimbakangs on Weishu, but Luvo says the mountains won’t let me.”

“I don’t blame you,” Briar said. “If they hurt me like that, I’d want to drop mountains on them, too.”

“Yes, but I’m over the hurt. It could have been worse. They wanted to do worse. See, I’m fine.” Evvy stripped off one of the overlarge slippers someone had given her and the heavy sock she wore underneath it. Gripping her ankle, she raised her foot until Briar could see its sole. “Not too bad, right?”

Briar swallowed. Evvy’s feet were normally brown and callused from years of running on rock and dirt with no shoes at all. Now her sole was puffed and pink, with horizontal scars across it.

“It’s tender yet. I can’t walk too far, but it’s not raw, and the wool doesn’t hurt it,” Evvy said, turning her sole to give it a critical look. “I can even pick up Luvo and carry him and it doesn’t hurt my feet. I just have to remember that my bones are made of granite so his weight doesn’t bother me. How’s your wound?” She let go of her ankle and put her sock back on.

“Fine,” Briar said, ashamed for whimpering. He was still somewhat muzzy, but the pain wasn’t what it had been. He smiled at Evvy. “I think my revenge could be easier to get than yours. He just made me mad. I’ll be happy if we send him running back to Dohan.”

She looked away. “That’s what hurts. They took all I had. I can’t ever get justice for that. My feet would heal no matter what. But everything that was mine is gone, even my alphabet that you gave me. Even …” She folded herself over, burying her face on her knees.