Geryl spat another dried glob of blood from his mouth. Almost immediately he regretted it. His mouth was dry as ash and he'd given up precious moisture. The horse stepped into a small dip in the road and jostled its rider and Geryl groaned. He was sure that bastard had broken at least three ribs.

Honestly, Geryl was impressed with himself for still being conscious. Even if the horse tended to blur into two occasionally.

He glanced down at the letter, tucked securely in the saddle bag. He still hadn't decided whether to go south after Lyra or return to Taka and consult the guild. Not to mention check up on Zari and her leg. He grimaced at the memory of the sword piercing her fine leg.

It had been a clean cut though. It was possible if Zari was careful there wouldn't be any permanent damage. And Zari was always careful. Unlike Geryl.

He always knew his mouth would be the death of him, but he couldn't help it. Words flew out before he could stop them and usually they were wiley enough to be more help than harm. But not today, gods, not today.

Still, he didn't regret defying Fenrin. Men like that had always pissed him off. Walking in and demanding respect they hadn't earned. Assuming they could just take what they wanted.

Of course, often when it came to Geryl they could. It was one of the reasons he joined the guild. He was always picking fights—sometimes unintentionally—with stronger opponents and having a shady organization have his back helped.

Of course honor among thieves only went so far. If it was a choice between Geryl and the guild, Raldo—and probably Zari—would always pick the guild. Geryl had to respect them for it, even if he could never do it himself. Hells, it was a hard call Garyl could never make. He was too damn soft hearted.

If it was just him, Geryl would probably just disappear, screw the letter and Fenrin. But it was clear from his...time with Fenrin and from Lyra's warnings that every member of the Thieves Guild was in jeopardy. It was just a letter.

If he brought it back to Raldo, the old man would probably come up with a plan but even Geryl could put together that there would be no avoiding bloodshed. Many of the thieves would probably push to just deliver the letter anyway. Someone else would do it if he didn't and Geryl needed to be the one to give it to Lyra. He had quite a few questions to ask that girl.

But if he returned to Taka, he would sleep and get some of that wonderful salve Zari always kept on her. Mmmmm....

Geryl jerked up, barely avoiding falling off the horse. As he shook his head in an attempt to clear it, a color caught his eyes. A scarlet cloth, tied to a high branch. Geryl grinned, it was a thief's message. Painfully he dismounted and limped to the tree.

Sure enough there were some marks gouged into the trunk. A code used by the guild. “Not safe to return. Await back up.”

Geryl sighed, too tired to erase the message, especially since he didn't have a dagger with him. Instead he just tied the horse to the tree and slid down it, tucking the letter into his shirt, his swollen eyes closing.

"Geez, you look terrible."

Geryl squinted up at the squeaky voice. It was Vic, the fifteen year old new recruit. The boy was one of the street rats of Taka, old enough to be more than bribed runners. He was all lanky limbs and bony elbows. Usually the high voice coming from such a tall boy made Geryl chuckle, but now it just made his aching head hurt more.

"Vic, I need a drink. Now."

The boy snorted. "Alright, but you owe me. I'll get you some bandages too. And maybe a bag for your face."

Vic ran off and Geryl tried to give a smart retort but found he lacked the energy. His whole body was stiff as a board and he could hardly budge. When Vic returned, he'd managed to get his arms moving and was slowly and painfully stretching his legs.

Swiping the offered bottle, Geryl gratefully guzzled the alcohol. It stung his cut lip but slowly he felt the pain deaden. Vic helped him up and bandaged his wounds.

"Yup, definitely broken ribs. Listen, the guards are playing up your 'arrest' tonight, but it should be old news by tomorrow and we'll slip you back in the city."

"Can't go back yet."

Vic nearly dropped Geryl as he leaned on the boy's bony shoulder. "What? You have someplace to be? Unless it's hell, I don't think you're going anyplace, Geryl."

"How's Zari?"

Whistling, Vic readjusted Geryl's weight as he struggled to stand upright. "Ready to kill someone. The leg'll heal but only if she stays off it. And she's too rearing for blood for that."

“That decides it”, Geryl thought. If he went back, Zari would follow. "Get me on my horse."

"Your horse? Hells know how you managed to steal such a beast in your condition."

"A kindly fairy took pity on me and brought me a unicorn, but I settled for this nag," Geryl said dryly. "It doesn't matter where it came from, just get me on it."

With many a grunt and painful wheeze, Geryl mounted the horse. Vic scratched his head and looked at Geryl like he was ready to try and catch him when he inevitably fell off.

"Alright, tell Raldo I'm taking care of it. Tell him that if I'm not back in two weeks that I'm dead and the guild needs to disappear because the tiger's a snake. You got that?"

Vic rolled his eyes. "I ain't a messenger anymore, Geryl, but yeah, I got it. Don't die, alright?"

Geryl nodded and gave the reigns a snap. South. He had five days at the absolute most to find Lyra and give her the message. He said a quick prayer to Lady Luck reasoning that it was about time for his luck to turn.