Kira burned with fever for three days.
She thrashed and mumbled, her skin hot enough to hurt when you touched it. The infection was spreading despite their efforts. Red lines crawled up from the wound, reaching toward her heart.
"She's dying," Sera said flatly on the second day. "We should move on."
"No," Korath replied.
"She's not your responsibility."
"Yes, she is. I chose to save her. That makes her my responsibility."
Sera threw up her hands. "You're going to get us all killed with your stupid kindness."
Maybe. But Korath stayed by Kira's side anyway, wiping her forehead with wet cloth, dripping water between her cracked lips. Tam helped, the young boy showing surprising gentleness.
"Why do you care so much?" Tam asked on the third night.
Korath didn't have a good answer. Something about Kira reminded him of himself—alone, hurt, waiting for death in the darkness. Someone had to choose to care. Someone had to try.
"She helped me once," he lied. "In the mines. I'm returning the favor."
Tam accepted this without question. Kids were good at that.
On the fourth day, Kira's fever broke.
She woke at dawn, blinking confused at the canopy above. "Where...?"
"Safe," Korath said. "Relatively."
She turned her head slowly, taking in the camp, the people. Her eyes widened when she saw her bandaged leg.
"You stayed," she whispered.
"We stayed."
Tears welled in her eyes. "Thank you. I thought... I was sure I'd die down there."
"You almost did. Still might, if that infection comes back." Korath offered her water. "But you're stubborn. That helps."
She drank greedily, then fell back, exhausted from just that small effort. "I meant what I said. About being a healer. When I can walk again, I'll help however I can."
"When you can walk again, we'll probably be dead or captured," Sera muttered from across the fire. "But sure. Happy thoughts."
Kira ignored her, looking at Korath. "What's your name?"
"Korath. Korath Crow."
"That's not a real last name."
"None of us have real last names. We're escaped slaves." He gestured at the others. "That's Daven, Sera, Brick, Tam, and two others whose names don't matter because they barely talk."
"Escaped slaves," Kira repeated softly. "From the Crystal Mines?"
"How'd you know?"
She pointed at his hands. "The scars. The dust under your nails. I've seen miners before." She smiled sadly. "My mother was one. Before she died."
An uncomfortable silence fell. They all had stories like that. Dead parents, dead siblings, dead everything. The world of Valdris didn't care about sob stories.
"Rest," Korath said. "We'll talk more when you're stronger."
Over the next few days, Kira slowly improved. The infection retreated. Color returned to her face. She couldn't walk yet, but she could sit up and eat solid food.
And she did turn out to be a healer.
When Tam cut his hand on a sharp rock, Kira examined it with expert fingers. "Needs cleaning. And these herbs—" she pointed at plants growing nearby "—make a paste that prevents infection."
She was right. The wound healed clean.
When Daven twisted his ankle, she felt the joint carefully. "Not broken. Just strained. Wrap it tight and don't walk on it for a day."
He did. The ankle healed.
Slowly, the others stopped seeing her as dead weight. She was useful. More than useful—she was keeping them alive.
"Still think we should've left her?" Korath asked Sera one evening.
The older woman grunted. "Don't get smug. She's earned her keep, I'll give her that. But we're still eight people trying to cross hostile territory with no real plan."
"Seven people," one of the quiet ones corrected. "Mira died, remember?"
"Like I could forget." Sera spat into the fire. "Look, all I'm saying is don't count your victories before the battle's over. We've got weeks of travel left. Anything could happen."
She was right, of course.
Two days later, something did happen.
They were following a game trail through thick undergrowth when Brick, in the lead, suddenly stopped. His massive hand went up in a fist—the signal for danger.
Everyone froze.
Korath strained his ears. At first, he heard nothing but normal forest sounds. Then—there. Voices. Multiple voices, speaking in rough tones.
"Bandits?" Daven whispered.
"Worse." Brick pointed through the trees. "Look."
Korath crept forward until he could see what Brick had spotted.
His blood ran cold.
It was a hunting party. Not bandits—soldiers from Ashkarn, wearing the kingdom's colors. Professional trackers with dogs and weapons. At least fifteen of them, maybe more.
And they were searching methodically, moving in a grid pattern through the forest.
Searching for escaped slaves.
"They found our trail," Sera breathed beside him. "We're dead."
The dogs suddenly bayed, their noses to the ground. They'd caught a scent.
The soldiers turned their direction.
"Run," Daven said quietly. "Everyone run. Now."
They ran.
Behind them, the dogs bayed louder. Soldiers shouted. The hunt was on.
Korath grabbed Kira, who couldn't walk on her broken leg. "Hold on," he gasped, slinging her over his shoulder.
She was heavier than she looked. His legs screamed in protest. But he didn't stop.
None of them stopped.
Because stopping meant chains. Stopping meant the mines.
Stopping meant death.
The forest blurred around them. Korath's lungs burned. His legs felt like they'd collapse any second. Kira bounced painfully on his shoulder, gasping.
"There!" A soldier's voice, too close. "I see them!"
An arrow hissed past Korath's head.
They burst out of the trees onto a rocky slope. Loose stones shifted underfoot. Someone—one of the quiet ones whose name Korath never learned—slipped and tumbled down, screaming.
The soldiers were right behind them.
"The river!" Brick roared. "Same as last time!"
There was a river? Korath couldn't see it, but he trusted Brick. They angled toward where the big man led.
Another arrow. This one hit Sera in the shoulder. She grunted but kept running, blood streaming down her arm.
Then Korath saw it—a cliff edge, and beyond it, rushing water. The river was there, all right.
Fifty feet down.
"You've got to be kidding," Daven panted.
"Jump or die!" Brick didn't slow down. He reached the edge and launched himself into space.
No choice. No time to think.
Korath ran faster and jumped.
The world dropped away. Wind screamed past. Kira's scream mixed with his own.
The water hit like a stone wall.
Everything went black.