Llew didn’t want to get up. Her back was deliciously warm curled against Jonas’s stomach and chest. Even her bottom and backs of her thighs shared heat with his thighs, and his arm, looped over her waist, provided another counterpoint to the chill biting at her cheeks, and shoulders; one cold and damp against the ground, the other cold and damp from the settled dew and the light breeze whisking through the trees.

It was still mostly dark, but she supposed they would warm up faster if they got moving. Still, she took a moment to imagine a new child already forming within her body. The thought alone warmed her slightly. Was it too early to know? She still didn’t understand how it had worked the first time she’d been with Jonas. One day she’d been normal, and the next she’d gained Syakaran strength. Would that still happen now, with Jonas weak as he was? They were hardly in a good space to raise a child in the moment, but they would have months to get that right. In the meantime, they needed to break that Aenuk-Karan barrier if Llew was going to keep Jonas healthy. It would almost certainly make it easier when it came time to attempt to return his powers.

‘Morning,’ Rowan said from his watch post only a few steps away.

Llew sighed. ‘Morning.’ She went to move Jonas’s arm, hoping he would resist, pull her tight against him and nuzzle the back of her neck, or rise enough to kiss her on the cheek, or behind the ear. It really didn’t matter where. Sadly, his arm remained relaxed and unresponsive as she moved it aside. She sat up and rubbed her shoulders vigorously, generating a modicum of heat that soon dissipated again, but it got a little blood flowing, at least. She looked back at Jonas, expecting to find him blissfully asleep.

His eyes were open, if listless. Lifeless? Like her father in the night.

‘Jonas?’ she gasped and gripped his shoulder, shaking him. Her eyes burned with the first tears. ‘Jonas?!’

Jonas’s arm flailed in the air, brushing her hand aside. ‘Stop. I’m fine. Just tired, ’sall.’

‘Thank all that is holy.’ Llew released a breath and wiped her eyes with her wrist. ‘I thought you were gone.’ She slapped his shoulder. ‘Don’t do that to me.’

He grimaced, giving her a flat look.

‘Shall we move?’ Rowan asked through chattering teeth, rubbing his own arms to warm up. ‘I’m sure Elka will find us today.’

‘Yep, let’s get going.’ Llew jumped up and held out a hand to help Jonas up.

He looked up at her for a few seconds, then raised his arm limply, waving it around a bit, like he was trying to line his hand up with hers, but he was far from making contact. She’d expected he would half sit up, meet her in the middle. She leaned farther, hoping she was balanced enough not to topple once she took his weight. His hand met hers, his grip far from firm.

‘Um—’ she started. She thought of letting go to throw herself forward and grasp farther up his arm, but she was pretty sure she’d end up falling on top of him. As tempting as winding him might have been, she would’ve settled for shaking him. It wasn’t time for games.

Jonas relaxed his arm, letting his hand slip from hers. ‘I’m tired, Llew.’

‘That’s why we need to move.’ Llew swung her arms, faking enthusiasm. ‘Get the blood flowing.’ She jogged a few paces on the spot. ‘Warm up, wake up, and all that—’

‘No,’ Jonas said. ‘I can’t.’

‘“Can’t”. Why not?’

Jonas managed a feeble shrug.

‘Are you in pain?’

He shook his head. He hadn’t even lifted it from the ground.

‘What’s going on?’ Rowan stepped closer.

‘I don’t know.’ Llew studied Jonas. He hadn’t moved at all, except to brush her hand aside and give her funny looks. ‘Can you feel your legs— leg?’

She got a flat scowl for that one. ‘Yes, I can feel everythin’. I just—’ He blew his words out, like he was too exhausted to control the breath. ‘I’m just tired.’

‘Okay.’ She drew the word out slowly, forcing herself to remain calm and trying to think of what to ask next. ‘Do you think you can wa—, you know. Get up? I’ll help.’ She extended her arm again, bending further, curving her arm, ready to support more of him.

He lifted his arm and let it flop again.

‘No.’ For the first time, Llew thought she caught the hint of panic in Jonas’s voice.

‘What’s going on?’ Rowan asked again.

‘How far is the road? Is Elka going to be able to find us here?’

‘No, we’re pretty deep. I was planning on making our way closer to the road today.’ Rowan frowned down at Jonas.

‘Think you can lift him?’ Llew asked.

‘Yeah, but—’

‘Pick him up, and let’s get moving.’ Braph had said Llew could fix Jonas, but that she might need to kill him to do it. That was when he was merely ‘normal’. She would almost certainly have to kill him now. She could only hope she carried his baby again, and if not that the soul in the tree in Taither could connect with him. But Taither seemed even farther away in the moment. If the bug attacking him didn’t stop, he’d most likely be dead before they reached anywhere near the Quaven border.

She closed her eyes and sent out a silent prayer to whatever was out there that might listen as she collected Jonas’s crutches. Her knuckles whitened around the wooden aids and Llew breathed through a brief desire to shake Jonas awake. She’d told him she wasn’t losing him, and she’d meant it. She may have lived alone for five years, but being with Jonas was better. Damn it all.

She stood and looked one way then the other. ‘Which way to the road?’

Grunting, Rowan heaved Jonas over a shoulder. ‘That way.’ He waved to their left.

Llew forged ahead leaving Rowan to follow. She didn’t intend for him to have to carry Jonas for long, just closer to the road where they could keep watch for Elka. When she caught a glimpse of the dusty trail all traffic heading north from Northhollow took, she signaled a stop.

Rowan stooped and let Jonas slip from his shoulder. Jonas gave every indication of being unconscious, giving himself no aid as he slid to the ground, floppy. But his eyes were open. Rowan puffed out a breath and shook out his arms, rolled his shoulders.

‘Thanks.’ Llew spared Rowan a brief grateful smile then got down on her knees beside Jonas. ‘You okay?’

Jonas shook his head, and his ‘no’ was barely audible through the emotion choking him up.

Llew positioned herself as comfortably as possible, dragged his torso into her lap and pressed his head to her chest.

Rowan leaned over them. ‘Are you going to be able to heal him?’

‘I don’t know.’ Llew’s words came out hoarse, and not much louder than Jonas had managed. She wrapped both her arms around him and held him to her like her favorite plush pony the morning she’d woken to discover her father had abandoned her.

Jonas allowed himself to sob silently into Llew’s embrace. He’d lashed out, hiding his fear behind anger when he’d first begun to lose his powers. That he would allow himself to let go in her arms – let her feel his fears – had a strangely empowering effect on her. His fears were well founded – she was scared, too – but his faith that she could bear his burden with him shored up her determination to do so.

‘Stay with me,’ she whispered against the back of his head. ‘Your son will fall in love with you once he gets to know you.’

He stilled at her words, breathing deeply.

‘There will be a way,’ she said. ‘All you have to do is stay. I’ll do the rest.’

He relaxed into her, as if he’d fallen asleep. Only the flutter of his eyelashes against her shirt let her know he was conscious.

Rowan rested a hand of Llew’s shoulder. ‘Are you okay?’

Llew looked up at him. ‘Yeah,’ she said. Whether it was true, she didn’t know. She wasn’t the one drained of everything she had, she wasn’t the one missing half a limb and, at least for now, she still had Jonas, so she supposed she was okay.

‘What do you want to do?’ Rowan asked.

‘Unless someone comes looking for us, I think we’ll wait for Elka. I hope she makes it through.’

Rowan squeezed her shoulder. ‘She’ll make it. Ma wasn’t going to let them see her at the house, so there’s no reason to think she’s compromised.’

‘I hope your ma’s okay.’ Llew was sick of leaving a trail of hurt and destruction behind them. If only the rest of the world would let them be.

Rowan made a noise in the back of his throat, casting some doubt on his following words, ‘I’m sure she’ll be fine.’

Jonas slept, his head in Llew’s lap, his brow furrowed. She kept running a hand through his hair, taking care to work any knots free without hurting him. Strangely, though the hair clearly grew from his scalp, it didn’t quite feel like it was his. Her mind couldn’t forget that less than a month ago his hair had been short. Now, it fell past his shoulders again, magically regrown by Braph to make him more recognizable to the Turhmos public. With that thought, maybe they should have cut it again. She liked it short, and she didn’t. She couldn’t deny that a look from him with his hair short and slightly spiky did things to her that his longer-haired self didn’t quite, but there was still an under-current of revulsion at his resemblance to Braph. She turned her thoughts from the magician, not wanting to invite him into her thoughts, her head.

Rowan placed himself with his back to a tree, just out of clear sight from the road. He nodded to Llew, signaling his alertness, and permission for her to be at ease. With a grateful smile, she let herself forget, for the moment, that they were on the run and hiding. It was just her and Jonas, and they were on their way back to Merrid and Ard’s farm. No hunting parties. No Braph.

The road remained quiet. Whether that was normal for this stretch, or the checkpoints at every town entrance were creating a lull, Llew didn’t know. The clop of unaccompanied hooves they ignored, hunkering silently, waiting for the travelers to pass. With each growing crackle of hard wheels rolling over the fine stones of the road from the direction of Northhollow, Rowan eased himself around a tree trunk to peek at the road. The sky was just fully light when he gave a yell and waved at the road, then returned to help lift Jonas. Moving as quickly as they could, Llew clambered into the rear of the of the covered two-horse carriage and helped maneuver Jonas inside. Rowan leaped into the back and climbed straight through to the front with Elka. As soon as he disappeared through the cloth doorway, the carriage lurched forward. The brother and sister’s murmuring voices drifted back through the canvas, but not their words. She eased herself into a cross-legged position on the floor and pulled Jonas’s head and shoulders into her lap. He had been awakened by his rough handling to get him into the carriage and remained so. A few minutes later Rowan returned and sat on one of the bench seats that lined each side.

‘Hungry?’ he asked.

‘Oh, yes.’ Llew looked down at Jonas. He managed to lift his eyebrows to express his own eagerness to eat, and even that small gesture seemed to exhaust him, his eyes turning dull and listless. Llew tried to work out how long it had been between his getting struck by that arrow and his beginning to weaken. It didn’t help that he hadn’t disclosed his earliest symptoms to her, but it had been some three weeks since she had learned of his weakness. Did they have so long before this . . . bug that was attacking him finally killed him? Or was it something he could live with for years? She didn’t want to consider only having weeks left with Jonas and didn’t even want to consider what a future without him might look like. The pulsating Ajnai tree in Taither came to mind again. They were weeks away from it. But they were on the way. They had to have that long, at least.

A vibration buzzed against her chest, and Llew was only a little surprised to discover she had drawn Jonas into her and was smothering him against her chest. He must have been protesting.

‘Sorry,’ she said as she released him.

His eyebrows gave all the expression he was capable of for now, and Llew found herself delighted by the display of a lingering sense of humor when he glanced towards her chest before meeting her eye and raising those eyebrows twice. His lips managed the slightest of an upward lift. She rolled her eyes in return and smiled.

Rowan raised a hinged lid that doubled as a seat. He sifted through the contents.

‘There’s sourdough, jerky, apples . . . ’ He sidled along the bench-cubby, remarkably well-balanced in their rolling conveyance. ‘. . . a few varieties of pickled vegetables. You want me to put something together?’ He looked over his shoulder at Llew.

‘Can we tear into the bread? We’re both starving.’ Llew thought it safe to speak on Jonas’s behalf. Her own stomach was threatening to digest itself.

Jonas grunted his agreement.

‘Bread it is.’ Rowan lifted out a material-wrapped loaf, tore off a hunk for himself and handed the rest to Llew.

The loaf was moist and heavy, and the crust had a tough, almost leather quality. Llew couldn’t imagine Jonas having the energy to chew it, so she dug into the soft center, pulled out a handful and offered it to him.

Jonas’s lips pressed together and his eyes looked in the direction of one of his hands, which made an effort to lift, but he lacked the energy to actually raise it. With a faint sigh, he let her poke the bread into his mouth in small pinches. In between feeding him, Llew tugged off strips of the tough crust and chewed them. At least the bread was tasty; sweet and sour balanced just right.

‘I told you we’d do this,’ Llew said between mouthfuls, and was pleasantly surprised she sounded much more calm than she felt. There was no point Jonas worrying, he needed to keep what strength he had. She wouldn’t burden him with her concerns. A thought struck Llew and she looked at Rowan. ‘Did Elka pack any medical equipment? Such as blood drawing needles?’

‘I think so.’ Rowan shuffled to the front of the carriage and poked his head through the material flap to confer with Elka. When he returned, he went straight to the bench seat on the other side of the carriage, lifted the lid and, after a bit of a dig around, presented the syringe to Llew. ‘This what you’re after?’

‘Yes.’ Llew shuffled so Jonas could lie back in her lap and took the syringe. She tested the feel of the plunger and found that it offered quite a bit of resistance. She didn’t fancy her ability to draw her own blood. Besides, the road beneath the carriage wheels was far from smooth, rocking them constantly with the occasional larger bump throwing them around. She sighed. Perhaps she had to exercise patience. Not so easy when a part of her kept asking when Jonas would run out of the energy to breathe.

‘L— Llew.’

Llew looked down at Jonas. His eyes appeared brighter than they had all day.

‘Feel better. Food. Ener—’ He heaved a sigh. ‘Better.’ He finished with a wry twist of his lips.

Improved, yes, but not much better. Still . . .

Llew tore into the remaining bread loaf.

‘Open.’ She stuffed bread into Jonas’s mouth. ‘Think you could chew jerky now?’

Jonas nodded.

Llew looked to Rowan again who was already returning to the side of the carriage with the food supplies. He handed her a paper-wrapped package.

‘I’ll relieve Elka.’ Rowan disappeared through the canvas at the front, and Elka made her into the back soon after. She struggled to keep her balance in the rocking carriage and opted to sit on the floor.

As soon as Jonas swallowed one piece of jerky, Llew tore off another mouthful and slipped it between his teeth. And Jonas kept chewing, though he slowed and sighed over the effort a few times.

‘I have jars of lemonade, if you like,’ said Elka.

Jonas nodded with some enthusiasm, and he had regained enough energy to aid Llew as she levered him into a seated position. Grabbing his ankle, she swiveled him so he could lean back into the food storage bench, facing Elka. Llew went to take the jar Elka opened, but Jonas brushed her hand aside and took the jar in two hands. Drinking was no easier than drawing and dispensing blood would have been in the moving carriage, but Jonas managed to catch small sips as the liquid sloshed around.

‘What else do we have?’ Llew gripped the edge of the seat that doubled as a pantry.

Jonas placed a hand on her wrist. ‘Rations. Not all for me.’ He puffed out his words with effort and returned the jar to his lips.

Llew almost pointed out that not eating would likely not kill the rest of them, whereas in his case . . . but she didn’t know for sure if what attacked him would kill him, and she had already decided she didn’t want him carrying the burden of such worries when he was so weakened. She eased herself onto the bench seat beside him.

Elka opened the top of the seat behind her, fished around a bit and came out with a clean bandage. She brandished it for Llew to take. ‘He still requires daily wound care. I have . . . lotion, somewhere.’ Elka lifted the seat again. Soon, she held a bottle and a pair of scissors. She held the scissors out first. ‘Rowan won’t mind.’ She glanced down at Jonas’s stump, currently covered in the pinned-up length of a pair of Rowan’s trousers.

Llew unpinned the trousers and unrolled the leg, then took the scissors from Elka. Nervous she might cut Jonas, she checked and checked again where the stump ended within the trouser leg, then cut. The scissors were sharp, and the material sliced away cleanly. In her care not to injure Jonas, Llew had left length enough she would be able to pin what remained of the trouser leg back up, but she struggled to roll the narrowed knee over Jonas’s bandaged thigh stump and had to cut a slice up the material tube. With his bandaged stump on display, Llew paused. So far, whenever Rhaena had checked on or cleaned Jonas’s wound, Llew had managed to keep herself busy with eating, or exercises, or talking to Jonas while ignoring that part of his body. She took a breath, peeled off the sticky tape holding the edge of the bandage firm, and began unwinding it. Jonas watched her, his jar of sweet lemonade still held to his lips, catching tiny sips when the liquid splashed up to his mouth.

Eventually, the final twist of the bandage came free, exposing his flesh, and Llew found herself flooded with a strange mix of emotions. She had so often scoffed at Jonas being referred to as The Great Syakaran of Quaver, the most physically gifted man known. But it was who he was born to be. It was who he had been. To see his flesh, soft, rounded, cut up and stitched where a strong knee and lower leg should have been . . . The reality before her didn’t gel with what she knew to be true. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She was going to have to make some adjustments, get used to their new truth. At least everything looked clean, except for a slight crustiness to the stitches.

Elka held out a clean cloth.

Llew took the cloth and dabbed it over Jonas’s stump. She rested his stump on her lap, rested one hand on his thigh and ran the fingers of the other gently over the smooth skin. It was . . . different, but she could learn to love it, just as she had learned to love the rest of him. She looked up and was pleased to see a light in his eyes that had been missing earlier that morning; Elka’s sugary drink providing much needed energy. It was a relief to see that food could make such a difference. Still, he slouched, barely held up his own weight.

Under Elka’s instruction, Llew wrapped the stump in a figure-eight pattern with the soft roll of bandage and held it closed with a strip of adhesive tape and they pushed on, largely in silence, only stopping for the necessary ablutions and sleep. Jonas slept almost as much during the day as at night, leaving Llew to hope it was due to healing and not a sign of getting worse. Each time he woke, though, he was still able to sit upright and manage light conversation.

After a few days of traveling, the carriage slowed and pulled to a stop and Rowan poked his head between the front curtains.

‘Uhm. You might not want— I mean, it’s— Uhm.’ He scratched behind one ear.

‘What is it?’ Llew asked. ‘Are we there?’

Jonas had been dozing against her, and only grizzled a little when she shifted him to the side. The prospect of seeing Merrid and Ard was far too uplifting to worry about Jonas’s condition right in the moment.

‘Yeah. I think we are, but—’

Llew didn’t wait to hear more. She jumped out the back of the carriage, glancing to the sky trying to gage the time. Maybe lunch time. Merrid would have a meal ready for Ard after his morning chores around the farm, and somehow Merrid would magically procure extra food for their unannounced guests and not complain one bit. Llew could already feel the woman’s arms wrapping around her. For a moment, she imagined falling into Merrid’s arms and letting the weeks of coping in the face of so much going wrong fall with her.

She turned to walk around the side of the carriage to find herself just yards from bodies swinging from ropes strung from hastily constructed gallows, only recognizable as the farmers because of the clothes they wore and the hair still clinging to their nearly bare skulls.

Llew’s legs went weak. An unintelligible cry escaped her throat. She started to fall.

Strong arms wrapped around her, keeping her upright and for the briefest moment she began to calm. But the arms weren’t right. They were a little too bulky, a little too . . . not Jonas. And her horror was replaced by another – a chill flooding through her – and she thrashed against the grip, and kicked and screamed ‘Let go of me!’ She was released, stumbled, fell, landed in the dirt. On hands and knees, she raised an arm, wanting to beckon Merrid to her. She needed Merrid’s hugs. Why were they gone? They couldn’t be gone. It was all too much.

The bodies. The constricting grip that was not Jonas’s, that she now realized must have been Rowan’s – Rowan trying to help, and she felt guilty for hurting him and humiliated for overreacting and it was all a tumble inside her head, her body, and the only thing she seemed capable of was crying, so she did. She let herself fall to her side, knees to chest, hands clasping head, and bawled, keeping her eyes closed so she didn’t have to see the hanging bodies of her friends, her protectors, her heroes. And she did want someone to hold her, to enfold her in a strong, warm embrace, to tell her everything wasn’t fine, but they would go on, they would hold each other up. But the strong embrace she needed didn’t exist. It was weak and broken, just like her life, and it was all too much. Too much. She just needed to sob. And breathe. And not open her eyes for a few minutes. And breathe. The chaos inside her began to calm simply because if it didn’t, she would break and might not be able to be put back together.