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She shook her head, pained. “Zara…”

“He will die if we do not help.”

“I can’t. You know I can’t.”

“Please.”

“No.”

“Basira—”

“No.”

“What would you do if Farhana were watching? How would you explain to her that you refused to help someone who was dying? Is that sort of person you want her to be? Is that the example you want to set for her?”

Basira sighed and looked away, rubbing a hand over her face. “Goddess damn you.” She thrust the log she’d been holding into the fire, shaking loose a cascade of sparks, then stalked into the kitchen. Zara followed her.

Basira got a step stool and stood on it to reach into the very back of the top shelf above the counter, then pulled forth a tiny, dark bottle. She looked at it, then handed it to Zara. Her hand closed around Zara’s wrist as she took it.

“Don’t let the Paladins catch you helping them,” she said.

Zara nodded. She hesitated, then hugged her. She had been almost certain that anyone in the village, even Basira, would turn her in to the Paladins. “Thank you.”

Basira patted her back. “Tell those people I’m the one who gave it to you. Maybe they’ll have the decency to leave us alone during the next raid.” She put a hand to her forehead as she kicked the step stool under the counter. “By the Five, I must be losing my mind.”

Zara hurried back to the shed. Nero looked up as she entered, looking nervous. The Varai man appeared to still be alive. Nero’s eyes widened when Zara wordlessly handed him the panacea and then sat down against the wall.

“Where did you get this?” Nero asked.

“The innkeeper. She told me to tell you it was from her, and she humbly requests that you leave the inn alone during your next raid.”

Nero arched an eyebrow. He uncorked the bottle and handed it to Vaara. Vaara drank it in one go, cringing at the taste and, presumably, at the uncomfortable sensation of the healing magic as it began working inside of him. It would take a few minutes to complete its work.

“The innkeeper?” Vaara said. He sat up a bit to look at Zara, his one eye narrowed at her. “Why would she give this to you?”

“Because she is a kind person.”

Vaara exchanged a skeptical look with Nero.

She put her arms around her knees, pulling her thighs against her chest. This was crazy, harboring Varai in her house with just a single door between them and the entire village. What if someone had seen her? What if someone knocked on the door and demanded to search the house?

Theron had already been giving her suspicious glances lately. There had been a few too many times when she’d made him doubt her.

“Who is Crow?” Zara asked.

He’d reclined again, and he didn’t look up. “My wife.”

“Did you come here from Valtos, like Nero?”

“Yes,” he said shortly. Zara got the feeling he wasn’t one for conversation.

Nero lifted the bloody sheet he’d been holding against Vaara’s abdomen and examined the wound as it healed. “The bleeding has stopped,” he said.

Nero’s gaze leveled on her for a few moments before they both looked away. It felt odd being here with a third person between them, and she did not feel quite comfortable being friendly toward him. Evidently he felt the same. Were the things they’d been doing supposed to be kept secret from the other Varai? She didn’t know.

But then, he got up and came to stand beside her. “We are in your debt for this.”

“It was nothing.”