A groaning, moaning and, now and then, muttering, dragged Llew from her sleep. Jonas! Her eyes shot open, and she fought to free herself from her bedding, a task made more difficult by his being in there with her.

In the cold light of dawn, Jonas glistened with sweat. Llew put a hand to his brow: he was boiling. No wonder she'd been so warm wrapped up against him.

Hisham kicked his way from his own bedroll and rushed over.

“What is it?”

“He's burning up.”

With the bedroll open, Jonas trembled, and his teeth chattered.

“He's got a fever,” said Hisham. “He's fightin' something.” He pulled open Jonas's shirt and unwrapped the bandages. The skin underneath was red, and the wounds oozed.

“Llew?”

Alvaro went unheard as the urge to vomit overcame Llew. She scurried away on hands and knees to retch. Her body heaved, but she had nothing to satisfy her need to purge her stomach.

“Llew. I think Cassidy's... You gotta bring him back again.”

Her sickness suddenly gone, Llew rushed to Cassidy's side. Still bundled with Alvaro in his cousin's bedroll, he was blue. She reached out to him, and he was cold to the touch.

“Help him, Llew. Please.”

Hisham wrapped Jonas back in Llew's bedroll and joined them. His expression, when he saw Cassidy, confirmed Llew's gut reaction. Still, she had to try, didn't she? Hisham held her gaze for a moment, unable to answer her unasked question. She took up Cassidy's hand and without even trying to control her magic she felt nothing. She couldn't look at Alvaro.

“Llew...?”

She squeezed her eyes shut. The tears weren't coming yet. This was Cassidy, funny, sweet, brave Cassidy. She clung to his hand, and still felt nothing but the cold dryness of his fingers. She had to tell Alvaro she couldn't do it, but the words wouldn't come. She couldn't even do that.

“He's gone,” said Hisham. Llew felt his hand on her shoulder, relieved that he'd stepped in.

“No! Llew can heal him. She's done it before.”

“He must've passed in the night. It's been too long,” said Hisham, his voice steady, sure, and calm.

“No!” In an attempt to give more power to his words, Alvaro tried to stand, but he was still tangled in the bedroll beside his cousin's body. He fought his way free. Cassidy rolled from the bedding and Alvaro shook the last bunches from himself. “Do it, Llew. You have to.”

Llew hadn't let go of Cassidy's hand. She shook her head, and the first tears rimmed her eyes. She still couldn't look at Alvaro. She could picture the anger and confusion on his face; he wasn't one to hide emotions. She should have woken in the night to check on Cassidy. They should have all slept closer.

Jonas groaned.

“Of course, he survived.” That made Llew look, to see Alvaro sneering at Jonas. “You couldn't afford to waste too much of your power on Cassidy. Not at a cost to him.”

“It don't work that way—” Hisham stood up as Alvaro headed for Jonas. “Al. Don't do it.”

Hisham could have stopped him. That he didn't only proved that he, along with Llew, didn't believe Alvaro would actually kick Jonas. Yet he did. Jonas moaned and muttered something before falling silent again, his breathing fast and shallow, sweat dripping from him, and his body shuddering.

Llew leaped up from Cassidy's side. Hisham already had Alvaro in a tackle, and Alvaro kicked and twisted to get free. Hisham struggled with his shoulder wound, but he was naturally stronger, and that was enough.

“He was my best friend, my brother! He doesn't come second to your fuck!” Alvaro seethed. “I'll never forgive you.” At last, he stopped struggling against Hisham. “Let go.” His tone flat and emotionless.

Hisham released him.

Alvaro went to his horse, tightened the girth, released the hobbles, and swung aboard.

“Al, we need you.” Llew gripped a rein, but Alvaro yanked it free, his horse throwing its head up at the mistreatment.

“Cassidy and I came to your rescue just as much as he did. And it weren't us put you in any danger in the first place. You should've saved him, Llew. You didn't. You should've saved him.”

He turned his horse, kicked it to a gallop and disappeared down the road back to Brurun.

Llew stared after him for a long while, then she turned back to where Hisham was checking on Jonas. But feeling his temperature and looking at the infected flesh wasn't going to make him better. They didn't have any more bandages, and they had no way to deal with the fever.

“Let's go,” she said and began bundling up Alvaro's bedroll – he would have several cold nights on his way back – and then Hisham helped her hitch Cassidy and Jonas on their pallets behind their horses. “He deserves to be fareweled by those who loved him,” she said when Hisham questioned whether they should just bury Cassidy. Besides, they didn't have the means to do a good job, and Llew wasn't going to do Cassidy that kind of disservice. She'd had to leave her father to the carrion; she wouldn't do it now with Cassidy.

Their camp packed away, they headed out, Jonas whimpering at every bump in the road. They pulled up each time he went silent. One of those times was nearly terminal, but Llew would be damned if she was going to lose him as well. To hell with Turhmos. She'd drain it all for one success. Of course, she didn't mean it; she couldn't live with herself if she left a trail of dead children behind them. And neither could Jonas.

At a cost to a few more trees, she brought Jonas back to a semi-conscious state.

“Please, no more,” he muttered, his head rolling.

“Shut up, you. You're coming back with me.”

They were nearing the white tree when a pair of Turhmos men approached from the other direction. Llew's heart jumped into her throat. She couldn't afford to be captured. But while they might take her into custody, if they recognized Jonas, they would kill him. Again.

Hisham put on a relaxed demeanor as the men approached. He, too, would be in grave danger if they realized what he was. Kara didn't enter Turhmos on peaceful missions. There was no hiding his native Quaven skin tone, though.

Llew jumped down from her horse and made a show of ministering to Jonas. She placed his hat so he could breathe, but otherwise covering his face. If he remained silent, they could pass both men off as dead, but in his feverish state there was no guarantee Jonas wouldn't say something. In a moment of either sheer brilliance or stupidity, Llew tried something.

She fished inside the bedroll and took Jonas's hand, gripping it firmly, and then she did what she hoped she would never have to do again: she killed him.

She'd never absorbed ghi without needing to heal before, and it set her whole body to tingling, her muscles begging to run, jump, anything to find release.

“This better work,” she muttered under her breath. And the men from Turhmos had better move on again quickly, or Jonas would be gone just like Cassidy.

Looking at her hands in disbelief, Llew panicked that she'd just done something incredibly stupid; with the Turhmosians, who looked suspiciously like soldiers, right in front she couldn't risk undoing it now.

At the realization of what she'd done, with no notion of whether or not it could be undone, the tears rolling down her cheeks were genuine. She was surprised she had any left.

Hisham explained to the men that Cassidy and Jonas worked on a family farm and a fatal accident had befallen them, so he and Llew were taking them to be buried in the family plot some miles down the way. One of the riders came to the back to observe the bodies. He dismounted beside Cassidy and touched him.

“He's cold,” he said.

“Of course, he's cold. He's dead.” Llew brushed the tears off one cheek and stood defiant.

The man lifted an eyebrow. “Sweethearts, were ya?”

“Don't be daft. He's my br— cousin.” She'd almost said brother, but thought better of it, doubting she and Cassidy looked much alike.

“Well... I know this one couple. They're cousins. Married soon as she flowered, they did.” The man looked sly. In fact, he looked like he was eying Llew up.

“He was my sweetheart.” She pointed back at Jonas. “And I'd like to mourn before I give my heart to another.”

“I weren't thinkin' “bout your heart.”

“Heart. Bed. All the same, innit?” She folded her arms and scowled at the man, the power of her expression no doubt diminished by the trails of tears down her cheeks. His eyes narrowed and he stepped around Cassidy, past Llew, and in beside Jonas. He lifted the hat.

Llew tried not to look worried, but she couldn't control her eyes. They kept looking at the man, trying to see if he recognized the body, then flicking away to avoid him seeing her looking.

He saw her looking. And he took another look at Jonas.

Llew swallowed.

“Come 'ere.” He motioned his companion over. “This one look familiar to you?”

The other Turhmosian studied Jonas, raised his eyebrows, then pushed back the bedroll and pulled open Jonas's shirt, revealing the top of the gryphon tattoo, and the festering hole in his chest.

“You Syakaran?” the first one asked.

“No,” Llew said, as though it was the most stupid suggestion she'd heard.

“Karan?”

“No.”

“Then you ain't his sweetheart, are ya? You brushing me off, aye? Without gettin' to know me first?” His companion nudged him with an elbow. He was wasting time. “Is he dead?” Now, that was a stupid question.

Llew nodded. And if you don't hurry up, he'll stay that way.

“How?”

“The magician Braph killed him in Brurun, but he had somewhere to be. I got family in Turhmos and was bringing my cousin back to be buried, so he asked me to bring the body to Duffirk as proof.”

“He's not cold,” said the second man.

“He was killed by a magician. Don't ask me what he did, or how it works. I'm just doing as I was told.” It was surprising how easily the lies flowed. She supposed telling a half-truth made it easier. “Braph wants him in Duffirk day after next.”

“You're headed the wrong way.”

“We've got to make another stop first. Another cousin, you know...”

“Then you better get a move on. We're four days out of Duffirk.”

“Then you better let us carry on, hadn't you? Braph is a powerful man. He can probably read our minds, find out who held us up.” She narrowed her eyes. Now, bugger off.

The first man grew suspicious. “Hey, your man up front said they were both family.” He peered back at Hisham, and Llew panicked that he would see the similarity to Jonas.

“'Course he did. You know how many people would try and take that body off us if they knew? Braph's got plans for it. Needs to present it to the Turhmos King.”

“President,” the second man corrected, eyes narrowing again.

“My cousin just died. A cousin I loved as a brother. Not like that.” She narrowed her eyes back. “I'm doing the best I can under the circumstances. So, I forgot who's in charge. String me up. But after I deliver this lot. You wanna see Braph mad? I've seen Braph mad. You don't wanna see Braph mad.” And you better hurry up or I swear I'll be bringing Jonas back using your ghi, so help me.

The men looked at each other, uncertain.

“This really him?”

Llew nodded, fighting the urge to yell and scream at them to leave them be. Time was running out.

The men smirked at each other, then threw the cover back over Jonas's body.

“The Syakaran's dead,” said the first man.

“Braph doesn't mind if you spread the news, either,” said Llew. To Turhmos, Jonas is dead.

Laughing and smiling, the men mounted their horses and rode on.

Watching them go, Llew stepped in beside Jonas and pressed the backs of her fingers to his cheek. She tried to give him just enough ghi to return to him life, but while her fingers tingled against his skin, nothing happened. He didn't breathe, and when she checked his throat, there was no pulse.

She bolted around him and to her horse.

“Run!” she yelled to Hisham. “We don't have much time.”

“He's dead?” Hisham asked incredulously.

Llew didn't answer. She kicked her horse forward, dragging Jonas's horse behind her, begging the pallet to stay attached, and for Jonas to remain tied on it. They couldn't afford anything else to go wrong – there simply wasn't time.

They galloped down the road and trotted the horses into the clearing where the tree stood. The grass and the uneven ground bounced the pallets behind the riderless horses. Llew wished she could hear Jonas complain about it, but both he and Cassidy remained silent. The white tree called to Llew, but there was something else there, some trepidation, something like nervousness. Could a tree have such emotions? Or were they Llew's own?

“An Ajnai tree...” Hisham's awed voice trailed off as they reined in.

“You know what it is?”

“Turhmos used to be covered in them, until our ancestors – Kara – swept through the country cutting them down. I thought they were all gone.”

“Why?”

“Because we cut them all down.” He looked at her as if she belonged in an asylum.

“No. I meant, why did they cut them down?”

“Oh. To remove the Aenuk source of power, of course. At the time, they didn't realize Aenuks could use anything to heal from. It was... probably our greatest mistake.”

Llew didn't feel inclined to disagree.

She swung down from her horse. “Help me get him to the tree.”

They untied Jonas and lifted him from the pallet.

“You may have noticed the similarity between the color of the tree and Jonas's knife.” She had indeed. “The handle and the blade's core are Ajnai wood.”

No wonder the tree had seemed to withdraw from the knife: it recognized it for what it was. And now she had brought a Karan and a Syakaran to it. She hoped it would accept the task she was about to ask of it.

Standing at its base, she looked straight up into the canopy.

“Please,” she pleaded. “I've been through shit. I lost my pa.” She looked down briefly, but she couldn't tell the tree she'd killed her pa. The admission simply wouldn't come, though she suspected she didn't need to make it. She could feel the tree inside her head. Its disapproval bore down on her like a father realizing his daughter's date to the parish dance wasn't a regular church attendee.

“Please, I ne— I want him. A lot. And I have had the worst couple of days. Can't I have something?”

She concentrated on all Jonas had done for her, fighting for her, not killing her when he could have done so with ease, comforting her when she didn't deserve it...

The tree probed back, traveling through her memories since she had met Jonas. Llew remembered a drunken dance, cuddles by the Stelt river, and— Her cheeks flushed. It saw everything. Its awareness moved from her mind down through the rest of her. At first, she thought it was looking for an extension of what it had learned via her memories, as it slid down her body, down, down, but then it stopped at her belly and lingered.

The tree's consciousness pulled back. Its attitude toward her was altered, and no longer did it watch with apprehension. It seemed almost to be laughing at her. There was still a wariness as the tree regarded Hisham, though it was balanced by a trust in Llew.

She knelt beside Jonas's lifeless body and pulled his vest and shirt from him, trying not to look at those weeping wounds. Then she sat against the tree, opened the top buttons of her shirt and pulled him into her so that his head flopped on her shoulder. She wrapped one bare arm across his quivering, infection-riddled chest, and his back pressed against the small V she had exposed of her own chest. She reached the other hand behind her to connect with the tree's trunk. More ghi than she thought she had ever channeled in her life flowed through her and into Jonas. It didn't hurt. It didn't even feel taxing. Her body offered as much resistance to the ghi as a sieve to fine white flour.

The holes in his chest and abdomen shrunk; two small metal balls popped out and rolled to the ground. His skin closed, smoothed, and scars that had been there for years disappeared.

The black sweeps of tattoo wavered.

“No!” Llew gasped in horror. The tattoo settled, untouched.

While the tattoo saddened and angered Jonas because of the events occurring while he had been getting it done, Llew loved it. And, she suspected, Jonas did too on some level. He'd had it done for a reason. It represented family even if he thought it had cost him his.

In a matter of seconds, the rush subsided.

She sat a while holding him. He was warm but not clammy, and his chest rose and fell under her arm.

When she had first pursued him, it had in part been to prevent him turning on her and killing her. When she had realized he wouldn't, she had been flattered, if in denial as to how she felt about it. But the last week had brought everything into focus. Those she'd loved had never really walked out on her. Her father had left to save her; her mother never had a choice. And Jonas had come after her.

All these years she'd thought no one truly loved her and suddenly these lessons had come one after the other. Her shoulders shook with her sobs. She cried for the girl, Llewella, who'd lost her faith in love.

Jonas stirred. His head lifted from her shoulder, and he took in their surroundings, his state of undress and the arm clutching him. He turned his head to Llew behind him and his muscles relaxed. He gave her a smile before resuming his confused assessment of the situation. She released him and he sat up, rubbing his hands over the skin where Braph's projectiles had pierced him. The only evidence of their having taken residence in his body was the dry blood now flaking from him with each pass of his hands. Then he stood, twisting this way and that, looking over one shoulder, then the other, and down each arm. Then a hand went to the place under his jaw where the hand-print scar was – had been. The skin was smooth.

“How did you—?”

“Brother!” Hisham caught Jonas in a hug. Jonas hesitantly patted Hisham's back in reply to his friend's enthusiasm and Llew wondered if he was aware that he'd been dead twice in little less than a day. Still locked in the embrace, he half-rolled his eyes at the fuss being made and gave Llew a small smile of gratitude. He knew; but he may not have realized how close he'd come to death being permanent.

“Hisham,” Llew called for the Karan's attention.

He pulled away from Jonas, a little sheepish now.

“Cassidy.”

Hisham's brows dipped.

“We have to try.”

Jonas headed to the blond man's body, oblivious of the tragedy before him.

“He's cold.” Jonas looked from Hisham to Llew.

“He passed overnight,” said Hisham.

Jonas looked up at the sky.

“But that's been—”

“Hours. We know.”

“We have to try,” Llew repeated.

“Where's Al?” Jonas picked Cassidy up behind the shoulders.

“He left,” said Hisham, lifting Cassidy's feet.

Llew leaned against the tree and the men lay Cassidy against her so that he was positioned as Jonas had been. It had to work. She had made a mistake and should have been up in the middle of the night, checking her patients, both of them. Some healer she made. But she had the tree now. The tree could let her do anything. She'd already saved Jonas.

Before Hisham stepped away, she grabbed his wrist. He stopped, confused. Llew touched the tree trunk, but the same barrier that had always been there when she'd tried to heal Jonas in the past was still there. So, she couldn't heal Kara. Only Jonas. She released Hisham, quirking her lips in apology, then pulled Cassidy to her and slipped a hand inside his shirt, making skin-on-skin contact.

Nothing happened.

She waited.

She looked up to the branches far above and pleaded. The tree was silent, its presence gone. Not gone: hiding.

Llew sat clinging to the cool body with the tree trunk behind her for several minutes, waiting for something to happen that in her bones she knew wouldn't happen. But she couldn't give up, she just couldn't. Not yet. She should've got up in the night to check. Why hadn't checked on him? How could she have slept while Jonas fought an infection and Cassidy slipped away? She should've woken. She should've—

“Llew.”

She blinked the tears away at Jonas's third utterance. He and Hisham were trying to lift Cassidy from her, but her arm was locked tightly around him. Jonas pried her fingers from Cassidy's chest and, with a gentle smile, moved her arm from him. Then he pulled her up into his arms and held her.

She didn't cry anymore. She couldn't change the past. All she could do was never forget, and not let it happen again. She had the power to save lives, and so she must, without endangering others.

Jonas let her go when Hisham went to lift Cassidy onto his horse. Hisham was still suffering from the wound in his shoulder and that lift was causing him trouble. They untied the makeshift pallets. Cassidy's comfort, or lack thereof, was of little concern now. But they would return him to his family in Brurun; it was the least they could do.

The bedrolls used to make the pallets were worn, torn and grubby but, with Alvaro's bedroll, they still had three between them. Llew found herself hoping Alvaro was safe.

She felt something at her back. The tree had come out of itself again and was urging her on. Go to him, it seemed to say, though Llew suspected it had more to do with her own desires than what the tree wanted. But then, unbidden, memories flooded her mind, and she was blushing again, and wondering just how much a tree understood about people.

“I saved your tattoo; I hope you don't mind,” she said as she approached the men and horses.

“Huh?” Jonas looked down at the black swirls. He ran a hand over part of his belly where a long scar had once been.

“The tree thought it needed to heal it. But I stopped it.”

Jonas looked up at the tree properly for the first time.

“An Ajnai,” said Hisham.

“I thought they were all gone,” said Jonas. Then he turned to Llew. “Is that how you...?” He waved his hands, silhouetting himself.

Llew shook her head. “I couldn't heal Hisham. I think the tree just allows me to heal without killing other things.” She sensed the hurt feelings at her use of the word 'just' and lowered her eyes in apology. “I mean, I think we need to replant them. Grow more.” She felt a warm glow of encouragement. “And I don't think Aenuks fight for Turhmos by choice, and we should figure out a way to free them, and my mother. I want to save her. And, I think I—” She stopped. She had both men's attention. She wondered if now was the right time. Perhaps she should wait till she and Jonas were alone. But no. She had to say it now. Especially now she'd done all the set-up.

“I think I—” —might be pregnant. “...should go to Quaver.” She couldn't say it. “With you.” Her voice trailed off.