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Emily’s knees gave out and she landed on her butt in the dirt, but she was grinning.

“I was able to reduce the fever a bit and some of the swelling,” she explained.

“I still can’t fix what’s causing all that,” she added with a scowl, “but he should be able to eat and rest a bit better until the symptoms flare up again.”

Emily had bought Ama a bit more time, which was really all they needed if Ralph was correct and reinforcements were just over the border. Karl quickly filled a bowl with only broth and brought it over for Ama to eat before he fell asleep again.

“Drink all of this,” Ralph instructed, taking the bowl from Karl with a nod of thanks. “And more water. The water skin you had with you is still mostly full, so you definitely haven’t had enough to drink today.”

Ama didn’t respond. His eyes were open, but they weren’t really focused on anything.

He wasn’t actually awake, just conscious.

Karl took the bowl back from Ralph so Ralph could hold Ama steady while Karl carefully tipped the contents into Ama’s mouth.

Ama swallowed automatically. It wasn’t long before the bowl was empty, and they moved on to feeding Ama plain water.

“You have to drink.” Karl only realized he was murmuring that phrase over and over again to Ama when Ralph smirked at him, but Karl didn’t stop.

It didn’t matter if Ama spent the rest of the night finding somewhere to pee, he needed the liquids to combat the fever.

Only when Ama let out an indistinct sound of protest and turned his head away did Karl put the water skin down.

Ralph settled Ama into one of the bedrolls, covering him tightly in the warm fabric.

“This way he’ll get some fresh air,” Ralph explained as he stood. He gripped Karl on the shoulder and turned them both back toward the fire. “Now it’s our turn to eat and get some rest. If the horses recover enough, I would like to leave not long after midnight.”

Karl obeyed, filling a bowl of stew for himself before stepping to the side so Ralph could get some too.

Beef stock with a tomato base, thick cubes of stewing beef, potatoes, carrots, onions, and whatever other vegetables Char had on hand—this was one of the meals Char served in the coldest parts of winter when the soldiers who ate in his mess hall most needed a stick-to-your-ribs shot of warmth.

Karl savored every bite, the sharp tang of bay and basil mixing perfectly with all the other flavors.

When Char could get it, his secret ingredient was okra to help thicken the stew, but Karl thought this version was made with dried peas as thickener instead.

The peas probably powdered better for transport in a travel bag under Char’s magic than the okra.

At the mess hall, Char served this with his garlic bread dripping with butter and spices, which had a crunchy crust and soft inside perfect for sopping up any remaining liquid in the bowl.

“Needs garlic bread,” Karl muttered.

Tilly heard him and let out a laugh. “Oh, yeah. Chef Char’s garlic bread.” She made a yum sound, her eyes and mouth closed tight in what looked like remembered ecstasy, but then she suddenly spun to look at Ralph. “Do we have any more of that bread we bought in that village?”

Ralph’s eyes lit up. “We do. We don’t have butter or garlic, but at least we can have bread. Marc! Where’s that bread gone?”

Marc was inside the wagon with Emily, staying hidden while Ama and Lady Ettine were out, but he still yelled back a moment later. “Got a whole loaf and a half in here. Let me cut some slices for everyone.”

Karl got two slices of bread only starting to go stale, which added to the crunch and made it perfect for sopping up broth.

Without the garlic and butter, the taste profile wasn’t nearly as good, but using the bread to sop up the dregs of broth in his bowl was still extremely satisfying.

Karl licked his fingers when he was done, sighing happily.

Karl helped with the cleanup and then crawled into a bedroll.

He couldn’t think clearly enough to remember how long it had been since he had actually slept properly.

The ship from Timmonsville to Yari had been cramped, uncomfortable, and smelly.

He hadn’t slept then. The next night was when he had rescued Ama, and Karl had gotten only a few hours’ sleep.

He had slept in the wagon that morning, but that was more due to magic exhaustion than getting actual rest. He certainly hadn’t slept well the last few nights.

A week, maybe? Had he really been traveling that long?

Karl tried to get his brain to engage and got nothing.

He rolled over and only then realized he was next to Ama.

Beneath his tan, Ama’s skin was bleached out, pale and clammy with massive dark circles under his eyes.

None of the vivacity Karl remembered from after Ama’s rescue remained, only this shell of sickness.

Whatever Emily had done to help was already wearing off.

Still, being close like this, able to hear Ama’s breathing and see his chest moving beneath the bedroll, was somehow relaxing.

Karl’s eyes slid closed, and he drifted off to sleep, comforted by the lullaby of Ama nearby.