“Very well,” Sedric said faintly. The man was just a darker shadow in a dim world. He felt the man’s footsteps on the deck, and even those faint vibrations seemed sickening. Then he was gone and Sedric felt other vibrations, fainter and not as rhythmic as the footsteps had been. They weren’t even really vibrations, he thought sickly. But they were something—something bad—and they were directed toward him. Something knew what he had done to the brown dragon and hated him for it. Something old and powerful and dark was judging him. He closed his eyes tighter, but that only made the malevolence seem closer.

The footsteps returned and then grew louder. He sensed the hunter crouch down by him. “Here. Drink this. It’ll buck you up.”

He took the warm mug in his hands, smelling the dreadful coffee. He raised it to his lips, took a sip, and found the bite of harsh rum hidden in the coffee. He tried to keep from spitting it on himself, choked, swallowed it, and then coughed. He wheezed in a breath and then opened his watering eyes.

“Is that better?” the sadistic bastard asked him.

“Better?” Sedric demanded furiously, and heard his voice more strongly. He blinked away tears and could see Carson crouched on the deck in front of him. His ginger beard was lighter than his unruly mop of hair. His eyes were not brown, but that much rarer black. He was smiling at Sedric, his head cocked a little to one side. Like a cocker spaniel, Sedric thought viciously. He moved his boots against the deck, trying to get his feet under him.

“Let’s walk you into the galley, shall we?” Carson took the mug from Sedric’s hands, then with apparent ease seized him by the upper arm and hauled him to his feet.

Sedric’s head felt wobbly on his neck. “What’s wrong with me?”

“How should I know?” the man asked him affably. “You drink too much last night? You might have bought bad liquor in Trehaug. And if you bought any liquor in Cassarick, then it’s almost definitely rotgut. They’ll ferment anything there—roots, peelings from fruit. Lean on me, don’t fight me now. I knew one fellow tried to ferment fish skins. Not even the whole fish, just the skins. He was convinced it would work. Here. Mind your head. Sit down at the galley table. Could be if you eat something, it’ll absorb whatever you drank and you’ll be able to pass it.”