Kade practically dragged me to the healer’s house. We met Zitora on the way and she supported his decision to take me there, claiming her healing powers could only do so much.

The tall healer led us to a room which contained the equipment needed to tend to the sick—a bed and a table loaded with supplies. After I lay on the bed, Zitora peppered me with questions, which distracted me from the healer’s ministrations. I had thought it hurt before he cleaned the cuts, but the wounds screamed with a new level of pain as the sharp sting of alcohol inflamed them.

I answered Zitora as best I could. I faded in and out of consciousness as the healer and Zitora worked on my injuries.

I woke. Lanterns blazed in the room and shadows waltzed along the stone walls. Worried I had wasted time, I sat up too fast and had to wait until the dizziness passed. Once the room stopped spinning, I found a clean set of my own clothes folded at the foot of the bed.

The cuts on my arms and legs throbbed. The injuries looked about two days old with ugly scabs forming, but they remained tender to the touch.

My abused muscles protested each movement as I dressed. I considered the discarded pile of bloodstained and tattered clothing. They were too ruined for even the Keep’s talented seamstress, so I left them there. I would have to order more of the long-sleeved tunics and linen pants that I preferred to wear. Good thing I had left my cloak with the horses.

Zitora and Kade waited in the front room of the house. Both had dark smudges under their eyes.

Exhaustion lined Zitora’s face. “Feeling better?”

“Thanks to you…and Kade. How did you find me?” I asked the Stormdancer.

“I heard you yell for Master Cowan.”

“We were supposed to meet at the horses. Why were you there?” I asked.

He exchanged a glance with Zitora. She nodded. “We were searching for you.”