Belen’s injuries had almost killed me. If Kerrick hadn’t stayed with me either time... I squeezed his hand in gratitude.

“Flea helped. He shared energy with you when I depleted mine.”

Oh, Kerrick. “You...” The word hissed from my tight throat. Better than a squeak.

Kerrick smoothed my hair away from my forehead. “Don’t lecture me unless you want me to return the favor.”

A blurry orange blob smeared the blackness. It pulsed, growing brighter. Firelight? Guess my eyes were open after all.

“Ryne’s here,” Kerrick said. “He arrived this morning.”

“Hello, Avry. Good to see you...er...recovering,” Ryne said.

I peered in the direction of his voice. A fuzzy man-size bush sat next to the fire. More darkness hovered beyond him. Nighttime or the limit of my blurry vision?

“We’ll discuss the poisoning and the plague victim when you’re able,” Ryne said. “However you must stop healing these fatal cases,” he commanded.

He could flat out order me to stop, but it wouldn’t matter.

“This isn’t the time—” Kerrick started.

“It’s the perfect time. She can’t argue with me.”

Kerrick laughed. “Like that will make a difference. Avry will heal who she wants regardless of your desires. I thought you’d figured that out by now.”

The furry edges sharpened. Ryne’s features came into focus. He gazed at me with a desperate intensity. Deep lines of exhaustion marked his face. Mud spattered his pants. I’d never seen him so...disheveled.

“I know. But she has to realize that she is vital to our success. We’re so close to understanding the Peace Lilys, and Yuri—”

I pushed to a sitting position. “What about Yuri?” My throat burned with the effort to speak.

“He’s an...”

“Careful,” Kerrick warned.

“An opportunity to learn more about our enemy. Avry, you need to think about the bigger picture. Without the Death Lily toxin, we’re done.”

He’d said the same thing about Estrid. And Danny could harvest... No. The young healer was safe on the other side of the Nine Mountains. I glanced at Kerrick. He peered at me in concern. Although I’d argue I was the one who should be concerned. Gaunt and haggard, Kerrick’s face showed the strain of giving me his energy. And I didn’t doubt he’d do it again if I healed another near-fatal patient.

“Okay,” I said, sinking back down into my cocoon of warmth.

“Okay, what?” Ryne asked.

“I’ll think about it.”

“But—”

“Go away, Ryne.” I waved my free hand. “We’ll talk later.” Then I yanked Kerrick closer and lifted the blanket.

He slid in next to me along with a pocket of cold air. I shivered. He wrapped me in his arms and dropped his magic. I snuggled in close, resting my head on his shoulder. A slight rustle sounded as Ryne left.

Kerrick huffed with amusement. “Ryne obeys your orders better than you do his. Maybe you should be in charge.”

“I’m not ruthless enough.”

“True. And I, for one, am glad. He is right, though. For purely selfish reasons, I agree that you need to be more selective about who you heal.”

I growled.

“Easy. I didn’t say you should listen to him. You know I’ll support you regardless. And so will Flea.”

My nurturing instinct flared. “Don’t push him. He needs guidance, not orders.”

“I can be subtle.”

I pulled away to look at him. “You? Subtle?”

“Yes.”

“You’re about as subtle as Estrid hiking through the woods.”

“Hey.” But his protest lacked heat as he struggled to keep his eyes open.

I reached up and closed his eyes and stroked his rough cheek. “Sleep.” And for once, he listened without arguing. Progress.

* * *

“With the Skeleton King creeping in from the south, should we relocate the infirmary?” I asked Ryne between big bites of stew.

We sat around Kerrick’s fire a full day after I’d woken from the poison. Kerrick and I had slept almost twenty hours straight. After bathing and changing clothes, we both had been starved. Ryne, the monkeys, and Flea had brought out supper, joining us.

“Not at this time,” Ryne said.

“Why not?” Kerrick frowned at him. His wet hair glistened in the firelight and he’d shaved. But it would take more than one day of sleep to erase the dark smudges under his eyes.

“If we have to engage the Skeleton King’s forces, the infirmary should be close to the action.”

A cold knot settled in my chest. I hadn’t thought about that.

“And then there’s the concern about the plague,” Ryne added.

“Concern? That should scare the crap out of us,” Loren said. “If Cellina can start spreading the plague again, we’re screwed.”

“I don’t believe it’s the same plague,” I said.

All five men stared at me in horror.

“Actually, that might be some good news.”

No response.

“And the rest of his squad mates didn’t sicken even though they carried him for a few miles. Is that also good news?” Loren asked.

Good question. I dug into my memories. My mentor, Tara, had taught me the various pathways that a sickness could enter a body—through the nose, the skin, blood, saliva, and during intercourse. In Yuri’s case, blood was the most likely pathway. He had that gash on his upper right arm.