Summers looked at the display of dominance in front of him, each of the fifty men and women arrayed around the camp watching him right back. Sure, he’d faced worse, but he’d also done so with a lot more firepower behind him. And he’d been sure that they were enemies, right now there was no telling what to expect.

“Asle-“ Summers began.

“Trouble, portal, got it.” Asle replied.

“See, you're catching on already.”

She gave him a smile, even as Summers started forward. As he did, the older woman, the leader, he assumed, eyed him. Summers made a point to not show any hesitation. Typically, in situations like this, people operated on animal instinct. Seeing weakness was a sign you had power over someone, not a good position for negotiating. Normally he wouldn’t care about that sort of thing, but Roan’s life might be on the line, he wasn’t going to take chances.

“That’s far enough,” the woman called out.

Summers stopped, a good thirty or so feet out from the camp. So, they were going to be yelling at each other, great.

“I appreciate you didn’t hurt my man, so I’m giving you the chance to state your business here.”

“I got a kid that’s injured and needs medicine. I was hoping you’d have some we could buy, or trade for.”

“You took my man, and risked coming here for that?”

“No, I took your man because he shot at me.”

She glanced at the man that had led them there.

“If it’s one child we’ll figure something out. In fact, I can have someone look at him.” She glanced at Summers. “You armed?”

May as well have been asking if she could rob him. Summers looked over the soldiers arrayed in front of him.

“I think you know the answer to that.”

She considered him.

“Long as you stay on your side of the dirt, we won’t have any problems. If you’re all right with that, I can get you a healer.”

“I appreciate that.”

The woman nodded, then whispered something to a man at her side, he began to move off.

“My name is Ayra, if you’re wanting something, ask for me.”

“Summers,” he responded.

With that, the woman, Ayra moved off. It had been a lot simpler than he was expecting, then again it wasn’t like this was going to cost the woman much. And they hadn’t helped yet, he made a mental note to stay on guard. If these soldiers had something that could help, Summers was going to get it. One way, or another.

“You’re bleeding.”

Asle pointed to Summers’ leg. He double checked it and sure enough, he had been bleeding at some point. The wound had already healed, but the hole in his pantleg suggested he may not have actually dodged the shot from that soldier earlier.

“Shit, right, thanks.”

The fact he hadn’t noticed all but confirmed the pain numbing effects of the hamr had returned. Which meant he needed to look at himself again. Now would probably not be the best time. The fort in the distance still had more than one guard watching them, and brain surgery was best done in the company of friends. Granted, the attention probably wasn’t malicious. They were probably just the most interesting thing to show up in a while, but it still put him on edge.

The healer Ayra had sent over had looked at Roan and given them some sort of salve to put on the wound. Summers hoped to God this wasn’t some snake oil, but Synel had assured him that it really did help “rotting” wounds. Time would tell if it would be enough, but so far, the ex-soldiers had been helpful. They’d even offered to trade some basic supplies and take care of their horses, something Summers was genuinely grateful for. Though he kept the rest of their supplies close at hand, his trust only went so far.

Summers noticed Asle watching as he cleaned off his leg. By now he had a pretty good grasp on nonverbal cues from elves, and Asle especially. She looked worried.

“Everything okay?” Summers asked.

Asle hesitated.

“I think I’ve been having dreams like yours. I think I dreamt about my parents.”

Summers turned to Asle, giving her his full attention.

“Can you still remember them?”

“Not. . . their names. Or their faces. I can still remember people at home. I just. . . don’t recognize them.” She hesitated again. “I don’t. . . I don’t remember how I lost them. I know they’re gone just. . .”

Summers slowly put his hand to Asle’s forehead. A wisp of smoke rose into the air as he checked her head, feeling for the hamr inside. He’d been doing this every few days since she’d been infected, only now it seemed to have spread even further than before. And in more places than just her head. Maybe her little accident had more of an effect then he’d realized.

“Shit. . .” Summers let his hand drop.

“Is it bad?”

“Worse than I was expecting.” Summers took a moment. “Asle, if I try to pull this thing out of you, I don’t know that you’ll be okay afterwards.”

They lapsed into silence. Asle looked down at Roan. The kid was out cold, just as he had been since they’d got there. She was worried, that much was clear. But Summers didn’t have anything to say to help that, or her. They were in a shitty situation. Hell, he didn’t know if the trick with the skeen would work twice when it came to his own brain.

But that wasn’t what she needed to hear right now. And it wasn’t what he needed to worry about.

Summers put a reassuring hand on Asle’s head.

“We’ll figure it out.”

“I know.”

Summers smiled. It was an empty promise, but it was all they had right now. That, and an idea that he’d have to work out.

“Get some sleep.” He saw her expression and sighed. “I know, not easy. You can borrow my journal if you want.”

“Okay.”

“Either way, we should leave in the morning. Don’t want to push our luck here.”

Asle moved off, leaving him alone. He still planned on pitching Ayra and the others life at the base, but that could wait until tomorrow. He took one last glance at Asle, feeling his own anxiety rising.

He’d find a solution, hopefully, sooner rather than later.

Asle woke a few hours later with the sun, too early for them to leave, but unable to get back to sleep. Summers was on guard nearby, watching the fort in the distance. She debated trying to get back to sleep, when Roan stirred near her, she gave up on the endeavor entirely.

Sitting up, she saw the boy’s head turn towards her.

“Are you alright?” Asle asked.

“I kind of feel like I’m dying, and my mouth tastes like spoiled dirt.”

“The healer said you’d be okay.”

“There’s a healer now?” Roan turned his head towards her.

“You fell asleep for a while. I think we were about to attack a camp full of people just to help you.”

Roan blinked blearily at the comment.

“That shouldn’t reassure me but somehow it does.”

Asle smiled before catching herself.

She’d been debating with herself since they’d left the city. Roan had saved her life when she’d been stupid enough to knock herself out. That wasn’t a kind of debt she wanted to let sit, even if it meant she’d be handing out another life debt.

Making up her mind, she turned to the boy.

“I wanted to thank you, for saving me back in the city. Tosan tok.”

“You kind of broke your head,” Roan said. “So, I don’t mind. It’s fine, you don’t owe me anything.”

“No, I mean-”

“I know what you’re getting at,” Roan interrupted. “I did what I did, that was my choice. And trust me, you don’t want to swear an oath to someone like me.”

“Why not?”

He stared at her.

“Asle, I’ve done really, really bad things. I don’t regret it, but you don’t need someone like me as a blood brother.”

Asle tilted her head at the statement.

“Okay. I don’t really care. I like you. And I owe you whether you accept that or not.”

“You like me?” Roan snorted, not even trying to hide a laugh.

“Your next words better be you’re welcome, or I’m going to do something I probably won’t regret.” Asle said, recalling something she’d heard Ms. Cortez say.

Roan considered her, before inclining his head.

“You’re welcome. Happy?”

“Yes.”

A loud crackling made both her and Roan jump, she turned to see their radio lighting up. Summers moved in, seeing them awake, and picked it up. It was making an odd noise now, three long beeps, three short ones, over and over.

Her teacher moved by his side, looking concerned.

“What’s that mean?”

Summers listened for a few more moments before turning to the rest of them. He’d taught the others how to send messages on the radio, but this wasn’t a voice, it was something that he’d shown them before he left. Something ‘automated’ he’d told them to only use in case of an emergency.

“They’re attacking the base.”