“We’re returning the favor,” Loren said.

“Uh-huh.” Belen stretched out on his blankets, sighed and was soon snoring.

Considering how long he’d been awake, it was amazing he’d lasted that long.

My bedroll was close to Flea’s. He had been practicing the first step in learning how to juggle, tossing a stone from one hand to another. Flea mastered the motion of throwing the rock up to his eye level and letting it drop down to his other hand, making a path through the air like an inverted V while keeping both hands near his waist. I showed him the next step. Same motion, but using two rocks—trickier.

After a few tries, he started to get it. “That’s it, Flea. When the first stone is at the tip of the V, you throw the second.” I made encouraging noises.

He worked a while longer, then flopped back onto his blankets. “It’s too hard.”

Flea reminded me of my younger sister, Noelle. She would give up right away if a task proved too difficult. I wondered if she had gotten the plague and died just as quick.

No one who contracted the disease survived. Except those very first people the healers cured before they in turn died. Back when we hadn’t known it would become a plague. There had been enough sanity for the Healer’s Guild to send out notice to their members not to heal anyone who had those symptoms. Not even if there were a couple healers to share energy. It had been a logical decision. There were more sicknesses than healers. And it made sense to heal the ones we could. But that notice had been what condemned us all to death. Or rather, the wording of that missive. It hadn’t clearly stated that a healer would die if he helped a plague victim. It had said, “Success was unlikely at this time.”

I suppressed those dark thoughts, concentrating instead on the positive. Being with these men had renewed my interest in life. They’d been traveling throughout the Fifteen Realms, perhaps they’d heard of my family. Except Loren and Quain had also fallen asleep. Only Flea stared morosely at the cave’s ceiling.

“Don’t fret,” I said. “With more practice, you’ll be juggling in no time.”

He groaned. “That’s what those guys say all the time. Practice, practice, practice. It’s boring!”

I hid my smile. “You’re right.”

He sat up. “I am?”

“It’s very boring. Unfortunately, it’s necessary.”

Groaning, he plopped back onto his pillow. He waved a listless hand. “You can stop the lecture. I’ve got four fathers. I don’t need a mother.”

I gasped in mock horror. “You’re right. I’m sounding like my mother! I promise never to do it again.”

“Really?” Flea squinted at me.

“No. Sorry. An overdeveloped nurturing instinct comes with being a healer.”

He shrugged. “Oh, well. I guess everyone has their faults.”

“True.”

He pushed up to an elbow and looked at me for a moment. “Do you like being a healer? That cut you took from Belen had to hurt.”

“It does, but for less time than it would have hurt him.” Plus there was the satisfaction of helping another.

Flea huffed. “I don’t think Belen feels pain. I kicked him hard in the shins one time and he didn’t even blink.”

“Why did you kick him?”

“He wouldn’t let me go.” Flea’s eyelids drooped and he yawned.

I sensed a longer story, but I stifled my curiosity. Instead, I gently pushed him down and pulled the blanket up to his chin.

Flea gave me a sleepy half smile and said, “Belen won’t let you go, either.”

It was an odd statement and he noticed my concern.

“Not like that… Once you heal Prince Ryne, you won’t want to go.”

I jerked wide awake. “Prince Ryne of Ivdel Realm? He’s your friend? The one who’s sick?”

“Yeah, he—”

“Flea, go to sleep,” Kerrick said from behind me.

Flea grimaced an oops and turned onto his side.

Oops was putting it mildly. I gathered my belongings.

“What are you doing?” Kerrick asked. His voice low and deadly.

“Leaving.”

“No.”

“I’m not asking. I’m going.” I rolled up my thin mat and stuffed it into my knapsack.

“No, you’re not.”

Slinging my pack over my shoulder, I faced him. “There is no reason for me to stay. Go find another healer.”

“No.”

It was like talking to the rock wall. I raised my voice. “Let me make this perfectly clear. I will not heal Prince Ryne. Nothing you do or say will change my mind.”

The men stirred awake. Fury sparked in Kerrick’s eyes.

“Easy, Kerrick,” Belen said, sitting up.

“You will heal him.” Kerrick’s dangerous tone warned me not to argue, but I wouldn’t back down.

“Never.”

“That’s enough, Avry.” Belen stood. “We can discuss this in the morning.”

“There’s nothing to discuss,” I said. “I’m not healing him. In fact, I’m glad he’s locked in stasis where he can’t hurt anyone ever again. The only thing that would make me happier is his death.”

I’d gone too far. With a strangled cry, Kerrick lost his temper. Belen lunged toward Kerrick and I raised an arm to block Kerrick’s strike, but we were both too slow. Kerrick backhanded me across my cheek. The force of the blow sent me to the ground.

Chapter 4

My cheek stung and throbbed. I remained on the floor of the cave. Belen stood between me and Kerrick.

“…temper in check. She’s a sweet girl,” Belen said.

“She’s a healer, Belen. And no longer a girl. Healing Ryne is all I care about. All you should care about, as well. You know—”

“Yes, I know what’s at stake.” Belen spat the words. “But if you raise your hand to her again, I’ll rip your arm from its socket.”

Wow. I tilted my head to catch Kerrick’s expression.

A flicker of surprise flashed across his flat gaze. “Make sure she keeps her opinions of Prince Ryne to herself and I won’t have to.” Kerrick glanced at me.

I met his cold gaze and realized I meant nothing to him. Unlike Belen, Kerrick must know I wouldn’t survive healing Ryne and he didn’t care.

“You will heal Ryne,” he said before turning away. “Loren, your watch.”

Loren shot to his feet. “Yes, sir.” He dashed from the cavern. And I wished I could follow him.

Belen knelt next to me. He pressed a wet cloth to my cheek. “I’m sor—”

“Don’t apologize for him,” I said, leaning into the cool comfort of the cloth. I glanced around. By the rigid way they lay under their covers, I knew Flea and Quain pretended to be asleep. Kerrick shucked off his boots and settled into Loren’s spot, ignoring us.

Belen played nursemaid, fetching me a drink of water and setting up my bedroll. I liked him. Too bad, I wouldn’t be staying with them for long.

I waited for an opportunity to escape. It took two days. Two days of walking through the forests in silence and one night in yet another cave. A night I kept quiet and just listened to the men, nursing my bruised ego.

The second night’s stop was far from ideal since Kerrick stopped at a big echoey cavern. I suspected he knew the location of every single cavern in the forest. But I couldn’t stand being with him any longer.

“Remember when those three drunks challenged Belen to a fight?” Quain asked no one in particular during dinner and when Kerrick was out on watch.

“And Kerrick gave strict orders. No fighting or we wouldn’t be able to go near a tavern again,” Loren said.

Flea rolled his eyes. “I’ve heard this story a dozen times.”

“Only a dozen?” Belen asked. He had stretched out on his back by the fire and rested his head on his crossed arms. “For some reason those two monkeys—” he gestured to Loren and Quain “—think that story bears repeating over and over again. Perhaps it’s just an unfortunate manifestation of their low intelligence.”

Quain snorted. “Manifestation? Oh, boy, look who’s trying to impress the healer.”

“He doesn’t want us to finish the story. He’s afraid we’ll scare Avry,” Loren said, trying to draw me into the conversation.