It was not like before—a distant, constant ache. It came in brief stabs. Each time it shot through his body it was followed by a sudden absence of pain. He felt himself dragged out of the comfortable place. The voice will be happy, he thought grumpily. I’m waking up; just what it wants. I’ll open my eyes and…

Suddenly he was staring up at a face. A man leaned over him, frowning with concentration. The face didn’t match the voice.

“Tryss! Oh, thank you!”

The exclamation came from Tryss’s left. He began to turn his head, but it hurt too much. So he rolled his eyes. He could see a blurred face. A female face.

She leaned forward and recognition came like a bolt of lightning.

“Drilli.”

I spoke, he thought. Perhaps I’m not dying after all. He looked at the man again. A Dreamweaver. Tryss felt another stab of pain followed by numbness. Rolling his eyes to the right, he saw and felt the Dreamweaver’s hands on his arm.

He felt movement inside his arm. Bones and flesh shifting. The sensation was peculiar and nauseating. Tryss decided it would be better not to watch. He looked at Drilli. She was so beautiful—even covered in mud, sweat and blood. She was grinning at him, her eyes all glittery.

“So what is it?” he asked.

She blinked and frowned. “What is what?”

“That you have to tell me.”

To his amusement, she paused. “So you heard that.” She bit her lip. “Perhaps we should wait until later. When you’re healed.”

“Why?”

“It’s…too early.”

“Too early for what?” He tried to lift his head and gasped as pain ripped down his back.

“Tell him,” the Dreamweaver said quietly.

Drilli looked at the man, then nodded. “Just remember that these things often go wrong in the first few months.”

Tryss sighed and rolled his eyes. “What things?”

She bit her lip. “I’m—we’re—going to be parents.”

“Parents?”

“Yes. I’m carrying…”

A baby. She’s pregnant. Tryss felt a thrill of excitement. The next stab of pain hardly bothered him. He grinned at Drilli.

“That explains why you’ve been sick all the time. I thought it must be all those spices you like in your food.”

She pulled a face.

Tryss opened his mouth to speak, but stopped as the Dreamweaver slid his hands behind Tryss’s neck. Pain shot down his body, then numbness. The Dreamweaver remained still for a long time. Slowly, feeling returned, but no pain. The Dreamweaver’s hands finally slid away and Tryss felt the man turn his attention to his other arm.

“That was…amazing,” Tryss managed.

“Keep still,” the Dreamweaver said.

Drilli shifted position to Tryss’s right side. He found he could move his arm. Lifting it, he was amazed to see there wasn’t even a scar left to mark his skin.