And miraculously, over the next couple hours, the men began to wake up one by one. Blessedly, only Danil got sick from the mistletoe, and it was hardly “fantastically ill.” Like Rurik, all the men were eager to help, and before long, we had everyone restored to their original states—except Dorian.

“Why won’t he wake up?” I asked. The flickering firelight cast weird shadows on his face. “Volusian said it was tied to strength and will. Dorian’s probably the strongest person I know.”

Alistir frowned as he sipped water from a skin. “I seem to recall ... I feel like there were two of those dryads with him?” There was uncertainty in his words, but they sparked a memory.

“You’re right,” I said. “There were two with him when we approached. Would that do it? Two dryads—double the power?”

“Makes sense,” said Keeli. “Especially if they tagged him as the strongest.”

“Then we’ll have to work twice as hard,” said Rurik, feeling no shame at just having been declared second best. He finished off a banana. All of the men had been starving and thirsty. “I’ll talk to him now.”

Rurik jumped to it with zeal, and others followed in shifts. As midnight came around, the effort faded a little, mostly from exhaustion. Watches were set, and the rest of my companions began settling down for sleep. Keeli and Jasmine had offered to take the first watch. They were tired but still felt the men needed some true rest. Kiyo stopped me when I passed where he’d spread out his blanket.

“If he’s not better by morning, we’re going to have to make some hard decisions.” Kiyo nodded toward where Dorian sat straight and still.

It took me a moment to follow. “What? No. We’re not leaving until he’s better.”

“But what if he’s not? You’ve been trying all day.”

“He was hit twice as much as the rest of you! He just needs longer to recover,” I said, working hard not to shout.

“Or, he may not recover at all,” said Kiyo ominously. “Depending on how strong the magic is. What then? How long do we wait here?”

“As long as it takes! We have plenty of food.”

Kiyo sighed. “But again—what if he simply isn’t going to wake up? How much time do we waste? Every day means others suffer in the blight.”

“We can’t leave him,” I said stubbornly. “I know you don’t like him, but this isn’t negotiable.”

Irritation crossed Kiyo’s features. “My personal feelings have nothing to do with this! He’s a huge asset on this trip. I don’t want to go to the Yew Land without him. But I don’t want to waste valuable time either.” Kiyo rested a hand on my arm. “Eugenie, please. Just think reasonably.”