Gradually, the previous night came back to him, and he lurched to his feet. Fighting off an initial wave of nausea, he staggered downstairs, placing both feet firmly on a step before lowering to the next one.

“Morning, sunshine,” greeted Tarlak, who sat at the table on the bottom floor. “Although morning is hardly appropriate, considering I just finished lunch.”

“Slept too long,” Harruq muttered. “Where’s Qurrah?”

“Beats me.” The wizard shrugged. “I could spy on him to find out, but that’s not what I do.”

The half-orc nodded, rubbing his eyes with one hand. The huge fingers paused, though, when he spotted a large sausage link uneaten on Tarlak’s plate.

“Take it,” Tarlak said. “I’m stuffed to the brim.”

Harruq wolfed it down, even though the chewing ignited pain in his nose.

“How’s Aurry?” he asked, suddenly remembering her grievous wound. His heart shuddered at the look Tarlak gave him.

“Follow me, Harruq. I’ll explain on the way.”

The two climbed the stairs to the second floor, Tarlak talking as they walked.

“She’s been unconscious for hours. Her breath and heart are weak. Our hope is that she holds on long enough for Delysia to heal her.”

“Can’t you find another healer?” Harruq asked. The wizard opened the girls’ door, shaking his head as he did.

“That’s another thing we need to discuss. Your little elf has managed to attract some considerable attention.” He did not elaborate, instead beckoning inside. Both Delysia and Aurelia lay in their beds, tucked underneath several blankets. Delysia seemed to be only sleeping. Aurelia, however, appeared much worse. Her skin was pale, and her hair was dull and lifeless. Her breath was slow, the rise and fall of her chest almost invisible.

“Your brother said Delysia should awake in a couple more hours. As for Aurelia, well…”