Jack’s eyes bolt open with a start, and he immediately tries to sit up.

Big mistake.

Pain radiates across his chest as he feels multiple sets of hands press down upon him. Everything is blurry. There’s so much noise. It’s impossible to focus on anything. The whole world hurts.

“Shh. Shh. Rest now, Pin. You’re through the worst of it.”

As Jack lets himself drift off into a deep, restful sleep, he hears another familiar voice. “He is through the worst of it, then?”

“Yes.”

The next time Jack wakes up, he moves a lot slower. There’s no need, though. The majority of the pain he’d felt has all but faded away. All that remains are flittering traces of it, particularly in and around his chest and head.

He sits up and finds that he has no trouble focusing his vision. He’s on the cot in the bar’s sub-basement. Corva is in there with him, packing a go-bag. Or, by the looks of things, re-packing a bag that she’s emptied and reorganized a few dozen times.

“How long have I been out?” Jack’s voice is croaky, frog-like. Like he spent a full day shouting at the top of his lungs. His breath tastes terrible.

His words must’ve caught Corva by surprise because for half a beat, she jumps and stares at him like he was a statue that suddenly moved. It doesn’t last long, though. She’s back to stuffing the go-bag. Composure regained. “Good. You’re awake.”

“Corva. Corva!” It’s the second time of Jack saying her name that ultimately stops her. “What’s going on? What happened? Are you leaving?”

She finally looks back at his face, the green in her eyes glistening. She’s been upset. “Short version?”

“Short is good.” Jack swings his legs to the floor. Stiff. “I’ll ask questions when things get confusing.”

Corva raises an eyebrow, her expression oozing skepticism. “You’ll have questions pretty quickly.”

“Asshole.”

She grins back at Jack. Momentarily, her guard is down and her all-business façade fades away. Just as quickly, though, the smile melts back into seriousness. “Okay. Short version. Whatever it is you did took out all of Thegn’s crows and knocked him down a peg or two. You also burned out or surprised enough of the Umbrati raid party to send them trucking.”

“Is Thegn—did I kill Death?” Jack knows it’s too much to hope for, but he has to ask.

Corva shakes her head and resumes packing, but not really. She’s just lifting up bits of gear and putting them back down. “Not even close. But he’s on the run. Wanted by both the Umbrati and the Karui. Just like me.”

Something is wrong. Corva’s holding something back. “What aren’t you telling me?”

Jack tries to stand, but falters. Corva is right there to catch him. “Easy there. You burned out a lot of your own tech, too. Slim’s been in and out of here trying to patch it, but it’s been slow. He’s not sure he can fix all of it.”

The glistening in Corva’s eyes has graduated to full-on tears. “He’s got Zeke, Jack. Somehow in all the commotion at the end, Thegn got away. Slithered off like a coward. But he took Zeke with him.”

“What? Where’d they go?” Jack tears away from her and starts pacing the room.

“We don’t know for sure, but we’ve got a few leads, thanks to that one.”

“What one?”

Jack turns to Corva and follows her gaze to the darkest corner of the room where, perched up on his rear haunches, sits an abnormally large rat.

“You!” Rage bubbles up from somewhere deep inside Jack as he stomps over to Caffiel. He grips the rat by the scruff of his neck and raises the fist of his other hand. “Where’s my friend, you shit-eating rodent?”

“Whoa whoa whoa!” Corva steps between Jack and Caffiel. “Put him down, Jack.”

“Why?” The word hisses through Jack’s teeth.

“Caffiel has been extraordinarily cooperative since Thegn abandoned him here. So put him down.” She glances over her shoulder at the rat, who stares at her in indignation. “And you be quiet. You’re not helping.”

Jack drops the rat and resumes his pacing of the room. “I gotta go talk to … to—”

He pauses. Who does he have to talk to? Zeke’s the one he spoke with the most, though admittedly the conversations were pretty one-sided. Old Man V is gone for good now. Lyia is—

“Where’s Lyia?” Jack starts to make for the ladder to get up to the bar, but is stopped by Corva’s hand on his shoulder.

“Lyia is fine. You’ll talk to her in a bit. She and Slim are working with Harris to rebuild Bule. You can try to convince her to come along, but she seemed pretty firm in her decision.”

Jack swivels around to face Corva again. “Come along?”

Corva points her head at the foot of the cot where a second go-bag sits. Jack’s go-bag. “It’s been a pain waiting for you to wake up. Thegn already has a three-day head start. I was giving you until tomorrow to wake up, then I was leaving without you. Lyia said you’d—hey, what are you doing?”

Jack has already picked up his bag and slung it onto his back. Two more steps and he’s back at the ladder, face-to-face with Corva. “You coming?”

A flash of excitement shimmers across Corva’s face before being replaced with resolve and determination.

“Absolutely.”