Light and an annoying buzzing drew Aaspaelwin back to the land of the living. Barely. He cracked an eye open and raised an arm to defend against the relentless attacks from the bugs. A sharp stab of pain lanced through his arm and he gasped. Wide awake, he became aware of the multitudes of aches in his battered body. Everything hurt. But he lived.

'By the gods,' he muttered. Grimacing, he fought to sit up and take in the situation. The sun strafed down through the dying trees' branches and the air danced with heat already. Sekafi laid a few paces away, unmoving. Dread clutched at his chest, digging cold claws into his heart. Grunting against the pain, he got up and walked over. He fell to his knees beside her and checked if she still breathed. After a few tense moments, he sighed in relief as her chest moved a fraction with a faint breath. He sat watching her for a while, wondering what to do now. Would she be able to move at all? They had to get away from this place as soon as they could. He didn't know if the monster still looked for them, or if it only moved about in the dark. He knew nothing about it. But he did know that he couldn't carry Sekafi all the way home. And all this was his fault. She'd wanted to leave. But he'd insisted. His throat tightened, but he pushed the guilt aside. Now wasn't the time for moping.

Deciding to let her sleep a while longer, he unpacked a ration of dried bread, salted meat and cheese. Then he swallowed it all down with a few draughts from the waterskin. The stale water left a thin film on his tongue. He made a face, wondering again if the water was fine to drink. Not that it mattered. They didn't have any other.

As he waited, Aaspaelwin kept a wary eye on their surroundings. He also drew on the map. It annoyed him that he wouldn't be able to make it as exact as he'd like, but he wasn't about to go back to the monster and check. A shiver coursed through him at the mere thought. Those eyes.

A faint groan made him look up from the map. Sekafi watched him, one eye swollen shut, the other opened just a crack.

'You're awake!' He shot to his feet and hurried to her side, helping her to sit up with her back against a tree.

'By the dark ones,' she wheezed.

Aaspaelwin nodded and handed her some water which she gratefully downed in a few gulps. 'Are you okay?' he asked when she'd finished. 'I was afraid you'd never wake up.'

She grinned, then grunted as she tried to move. 'I've never felt better... in my life. You look terrible though.'

'Sure, furball.' He smiled, though worry still weighed his spirit. 'Can you even stand?'

'Give me a minute.'

'An hour, right.'

She snorted, but a look of worry passed over her face.

'What?'

'I can't seem to lift my left arm,' she growled.

Aaspaelwin grabbed it gently and lay it in her lap. She stared at it as if it had betrayed her. He grabbed her hand and massaged her fingers, hoping it might help. He checked the wound as well and redressed it. She glowered at it, teeth bared through the entire process.

'Can you feel anything?' he asked.

'Not a thing, pointy-ear. Not a thing.'

He mumbled a curse. 'We've got to get back as soon as we can. Hope a healer can have a look at it and –'

'And what? Cut it off?' She snorted.

'Of course not! Are you insane? That's doctors. Healers don't do that.'

'And you can afford a healer?' She shook her head, her ears flattened against her skull.

He bit his lower lip. She was right. He couldn't afford one, but he'd pay for one anyway. Somehow. They didn't even know if the poison would spread or not. But without her arm, she wouldn't be able to fight and travel with him anymore. A stab of despair cut into him. He didn't want to travel without her. It simply wasn't possible. Not anymore. Besides, he'd caused this. He'd fix it.

'What are you thinking, Aspen? You've got that stubborn look on your face again,' she commented.

He gave a guilty smile and stood. 'I'm going to get some more water, wait here. I'll be right back.'

'Don't tarry, weakling,' she said. But under the tough surface, he knew she cared and was afraid something would happen.

'Of course not. I'll be quick.'

'Better be,' she mumbled, her eyes closing before she'd even finished the sentence.

Aaspaelwin hurried towards the river and refilled their waterskins. When he returned, Sekafi slept where he'd left her. He sat down and waited. Time crawled, making him acutely aware of each hurt and ache, the hot air, and the bulging trees. He couldn't sit or stand in any way that didn't cause pain somewhere. He sighed and watched the trees, listened for birds or other animals. He only heard the wind. He wished he hadn't lost the knife he'd found. It had felt good in his hand. And the strange runes on it, they could have helped them find out what language had been written on the stones. Oh well. Both knives were gone; his old trusted dagger, and the new curved knife. Flexing his fingers, he recalled the weight and well-shaped handle. Eaten by a monster. He sighed. He'd really liked it. He closed his hand, and started as he clutched at something hard. Yelping, he threw his hand out, getting rid of whatever had fallen into his grasp. A rustle in a small bush nearby told him where it landed.

'What in the name of the gods,' he muttered and stood, his heart hammering. He cautiously advanced on the bush, ready to flee if something jumped out at him. Parting the leafy branches with a hand, he peered in. Something glinted on the ground.

'What the...' Aaspaelwin reached in and picked the object up. He stood for several minutes, staring at it. 'How?' The curved knife he'd found among the bones. A shiver coursed through him and he looked around, making sure the monster wasn't there. What had happened? How could it pop out of nowhere? He traced the symbols on the blade and bone handle with a finger. Were they magical? Had he just found an enchanted weapon? He couldn't believe it. His hands trembled with excitement and he glanced at Sekafi. To his disappointment, she still slept. He'd have liked to show it to her right away, but she needed the rest. Instead, he carefully stuck it inside his belt and sat down again. Worry, excitement, and boredom took turns as he waited.

A few hours later, the Ikelos woke up and he helped her eat.

'Do you think we should try to go?' he asked when she'd finished.

Sekafi nodded and he helped her struggle to her feet. He draped her working arm over his thin shoulders, and they set off at a painstakingly slow pace. Would they even get back to the healthy part of the forest before evening, he wondered and glanced up. The sun glimmered brightly here and there between the dark boughs. Despite the shade, the temperature had risen to an uncomfortable level and his clothes already clung to his skin.

'You stink,' she helpfully pointed out.

'Yeah, you don't exactly smell like lumar berries either, you know,' he retorted with a smirk. 'More like a wet dog.'

She snorted.

At least her humour was as bad as always. Surely that was a good sign.

The pair walked for hours, struggling through the underbrush and worrying about making too much noise. They wouldn't survive a second encounter. As night fell, they'd only barely reached the outskirts of the weeping trees. Still, they had no choice but to stop. The uneventful night passed in tense silence, and the next day they repeated the process. Aaspaelwin strained under Sekafi's weight, helping her move, both hurting with badly treated wounds and poison. Reaching the edge of what they dubbed the Cursed Woods had only taken them three days before. To escape the forest and reach the road now took them six days. Each day Aaspaelwin found it harder to carry his friend, and Sekafi struggled worse. Her breath rattled, and on the sixth day, she coughed up blood.

'Hang in there,' Aaspaelwin wheezed, each breath burning like a desert wind.

She nodded, then coughed again. Blood trickled down her chin.

'Don't leave me. You're not allowed,' he said, worry tearing his heart into shreds. 'We're almost there. The road is only a short way off. Maybe we'll get lucky and someone with a cart can help us.'

She smirked. 'Always so positive.' Her voice barely overcame the whispering wind.

'You'll make it. Don't you dare think otherwise, furball.' He tried to sound stern, but he'd never seen her this beaten. 'I'll get to the city, and I'll find help. Sekafi?'

She didn't even look at him, and it broke his heart. He faltered and they almost tumbled to the ground. He stumbled into a tree, crying out as his bruised ribs flared with pain. But it prevented them from falling. Grunting against straining muscles, thirst and fatigue, he straightened again. Keep moving, he told himself. Don't give up. If you give up, you're both doomed. You have to save her. She's saved you countless times. It's your turn.

When the trees finally cleared and the dirt road laid before them, it was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. On the other side lay fields and farmlands. They were getting closer. His relief made him appreciate his surroundings again. Birds sang, wild sefnyas bounced away over the fields, spiralling horns held high as their graceful dark bodies seemed to fly over the ground, white stripes flashing. The blue sky arched above them, free of clouds and the hot wind fanned his sweat covered face. But his relief was short-lived. Soon, the ease of walking along a road was replaced by the scorching sun in their backs, burning his skin, and the dust parching his throat. The empty road filled him with despair. But far off, he spotted a building. A farmhouse. If they could only get there.

'Hang in there. There's a farm.' He panted, tried to swallow. 'They'll help us.'