Page 17

Someone had helped Lady Ettine out of her hiding spot, and she stood off to the side with Lyric, watching Alina.

Tilly was caring for the horses, who had worked far too hard the last few days and deserved a break.

Emily…Karl sighed. Emily had vanished, which likely meant she was with Zain.

She was obsessed with anything military, and Karl wouldn’t be surprised if she ended up a commander at some point.

Marc was busy pulling weapons out of that hidden compartment in the wagon.

He strapped his own sword around his waist and brought over Ralph’s as well.

“Here,” Marc said to Karl as he placed two daggers onto the ground next to Karl. “I presume you’re still as proficient with these as you were before you left?”

“I’m probably better now,” Karl replied, able to joke thanks to the gentle thudding of Ama’s heart against his fingertips.

“The amount of meat I had to butcher with precision, and the fact that any errant knife cut a point off my final grade? I could slice you to ribbons before you even realized you were under attack.”

“Hah. I’d like to see you try. Didn’t you go to bakery school? What were you doing in a butchering class?” Marc asked, frowning at him.

“Not all pie and pastry fillings are sweet, you know. I aced the savory baking courses too.”

Marc licked his lips. “Char makes the best shepherd’s pie ever. I’d be happy to taste test yours sometime.” He winked.

“Wouldn’t we all,” Ralph replied, standing. “For now, let’s all get to our posts. I’m not dying because we were too lazy to watch our backs, not after everything it took to get us here in the first place.”

Ralph strode off, Marc following, but Karl stayed where he was.

Technically, he was a noncombatant, since he was officially hired by the Royal Forces to work in the kitchen with Char.

Unofficially, yes, joking aside, he really was very proficient with daggers in hand.

He had always been, even as a kid, but after Char and Ralph had gotten kidnapped, and Karl had used his fighting abilities to help get them to safety, the Royal Forces had seen him properly and expertly trained.

They had trained Shan and Emily too, but Shan was very happy to remain a sous chef and Emily…

was off with Zain to fight in a real battle.

Again. Telling Emily she was too young or just a kid had zero effect at deterring her; she instead snuck off as only a former street kid could and did whatever she wanted to do anyway.

Karl didn’t like it, but he had failed that fight with her too many times and at this point was resigned.

Alina suddenly let out a slow breath as she sat back on her heels. The green glow faded from her hands.

“How is he?” Karl asked. Ama’s heartbeat felt a little steadier, although that could also be Karl projecting his hopes over reality.

“Stable, for now,” she replied, rubbing her fingers over her eyebrows as if she was fighting off a headache.

“One of the worst cases I’ve seen, to be honest. Luckily you had Emily to give him some strength, or I don’t know that he would have made it.

” She looked up at Karl and gave him a small smile.

“I put him in a medically induced coma to keep him from thrashing or waking up and trying to move. I need to give his body a chance to heal naturally for a bit before I use more magic on him. How about we get him into a bedroll by the fire? We can make him some honey tea.”

Getting Ama off the ground and over to the fire in the center of camp took both of them, staggering along since Ama was definitely a deadweight.

Char was already there when they arrived.

He’d placed a steaming tin camping tea service onto the ground and opened the bedroll so they could slide Ama inside.

Alina propped Ama up on her shoulder and took the teacup from Char, blowing on it until the steam faded before gently and slowly tipping it so the liquid dribbled into Ama’s mouth.

A moment later Ama swallowed and Alina dribbled more tea, repeating the process slowly, sip by sip, until the cup was empty.

Karl helped Alina lay Ama down flat and covered him warmly with the bedroll.

Ama’s breathing was slow and even. He was pale and waxy-looking, his lips dry and cracked and had black circles under his eyes, but he no longer looked dead.

“Let’s leave him in peace while we can,” Alina said, her voice soft and soothing as she gently placed a hand on Karl’s shoulder to draw him away. “I think you and I could both also do with a cup of that tea, and I know someone has been anxiously waiting to say hello too.”

She was right. Char’s smile was immediate and still so welcoming as Alina left Karl at Char’s side while she went to make more tea. Char opened his arms and Karl fell into the hug, relishing the warmth and comfort Char had never hesitated to give to the band of street waifs he had rescued.

“I won’t say welcome home yet,” Char said to the top of Karl’s head, still squeezing him tight.

“We’ve got a few more days travel before that.

But I am glad you’re back in Toval.” He pulled away, but only to arm’s length so he could look Karl up and down.

“I think Alina’s idea of some tea and food is a good one.

You look like you’ve had a rough few days.

Sit down and tell me all about your time at Timmonsville while I make you something. ”

This really was almost like being home. Char fussing and cooking, always serene, so long as he had some sort of food to prepare, even while surrounded by military-style chaos.

Karl sat on the ground near where Char was busy stirring something that bubbled in a massive cauldron hanging in a tripod over the fire.

He was content to wait for the Royal Forces to return from battle and talk with his adoptive father as if he had nothing else to worry about in life.