The infirmary smelled like pine alcohol and sweat. It buzzed with quiet urgency, healers moving quickly, whispering diagnoses, wrapping wounds. I stood just outside the door, leaning against the cold stone wall. My hands were still shaking. Whether it was from exhaustion or fury, I didn’t know.
Inside, Tovi sat beside Mara’s cot, gripping her fingers with one hand and cradling Kellan with the other. Reule hadn’t left their side once. His coat was still wrapped around them all, like a barrier between them and the world that had abandoned them.
“I told you not to die,” I murmured to myself, eyes locked on Tovi’s hunched frame.
“So don’t even think about it now.”
A hand brushed my arm. I turned, expecting a healer. It was Reule.
“Come sit.”
“I’m fine.”
“You look like hell.”
“Charming.”
“I’ve been told.”
He offered a small smile, the only kind I ever got. Still, I didn’t move. I kept my eyes on the children.
“They were freezing and starving. Mara’s leg might have been broken for days.
