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It seemed deliberate, rather than affectionate, and Luc edged closer, feeling as if he needed to protect Revek, although his friend was looking at her as if she was as precious as the freedom they had all won.

“Taira told me you said I’d enspelled the Commander.” Ava was watching Haslia carefully. “How did you come by that story?”

Haslia slowly got back to her feet, lifting her shoulders. “It’s just a story. I promised Rafe I won’t repeat it again.” She gestured to Revek. “He’s always saying it. Why shouldn’t I?” There was an edge to her voice, accusing and plaintive.

Luc registered Revek’s shock. He seemed blindsided by her sudden hostility.

“I never—” He trailed off and then began to cough, turning to the side and gasping for breath.

When the coughing fit was over, he stared at her, blank eyed.

After a moment’s silence, Haslia lifted her chin. “Well, you do say it. Everyone’s heard you. And you’re obviously fine.” She turned on her heel and walked away.

“Haslia.” Revek lifted the arm on his uninjured side as if to grab her back, and then let it drop down. He closed his eyes. “I don’t remember it that way.”

“Whatever way you remember it, the consequences to Ava are very real, rumor or not.” Luc wouldn’t let him off the hook for this. Not after the way he’d attacked her last night.

Revek closed his eyes again, and his skin seemed to lose color in front of Luc’s eyes. “I’ll let her sew me.”

Ava laughed, the sound exploding out of her. She put her hands over her mouth, as if even she was surprised by her reaction. “You’ll martyr yourself to me as penance?” She shook her head. “If you don’t want me to sew you, that’s no skin off my nose, Revek. I’m doing this because Dorea asked me to. Not to punish you.” She turned away in disgust and followed Haslia out.

“I never . . . say or do the right thing where she’s concerned.” Revek shifted on his pallet, the movement labored.

“Well, I’d say boohoo to you if you didn’t suddenly look so bad.” Dorea bent over him, and Luc thought she looked worried. “You can do better than this poor me attitude, Revek, but right now, I’m giving you some slack.”

Luc studied him. “He is getting worse.”

Dorea sent him a warning look. “He needs his open wound sewn up.” She placed a hand on his forehead. “And he needs something to bring down his fever.” She crouched lower and slid her arm around his back.

Luc mirrored her, taking most of Rev’s weight as they lifted him up.

Revek couldn’t hold himself up, and Luc ended up carrying him to the fire.

Ava was there.

He’d assumed she’d stalked off in disgust at the lot of them and he’d have to go find her, but she was sitting cross-legged by the fire, a pillow on her lap.

“It’s easier if you lay him down here.” She patted the pillow. “I can see better that way.”

Luc tried to catch her eye as he set Rev down, but she was already focused on the wound.

Revek’s eyes had closed, and Luc didn’t know if he was semi-conscious, or simply blocking out an ordeal the best way he knew how.

He stood, at a loss for a moment, and then found a place to sit where his shadow wouldn’t fall over them.

“The wound is clean,” Dorea said to Ava. “I disinfected it just a few minutes before you arrived.”

She nodded, and began to work.

Unable to look at the needle digging into flesh, Luc studied her face.

She seemed to be saying something under her breath with each tug of the needle.

He was too afraid of distracting her to ask what it was, but it sounded like an incantation.

“Do you hear her?” Dorea asked him quietly. She’d been standing on the other side of the fire, watching, but must have gotten tired of being on her feet and come to sit down.

“No. What’s she saying?” His voice was close to a whisper.