“Two thousand, three hundred and forty-six,” Ryne repeated in disbelief.

Haggard, thin, and haunted, Ryne appeared to have had a rough time of it since we’d left over a month ago. Guilt for leaving tweaked in my chest until I remembered our argument.

“Are we still traitors, Ryne?” I asked.

“Careful how you answer,” Kerrick warned him.

We sat around a campfire outside the infirmary with the monkeys and Flea. Fydelia remained in the infirmary with Odd. Ryne had just arrived. He rode in on the horse that had carried the soldier with the message that we’d returned. It took a total of six days, and we’d all rested in the meantime. Although Kerrick still moved as if a deep weariness had soaked into his bones. I worried he was getting sick, but he was quick to wave off my concerns as soon as I’d voiced them.

I’d also checked on the patients and found they’d been well taken care of in my absence. But what had upset me the most were the four cases of the new plague. Ginger and Christina had isolated them, and had been careful to wash their hands after treating them. However, I wouldn’t let my caregivers risk getting sick now that I’d returned. I couldn’t heal them, but I could ease their suffering with various herbs. Although seeing them had been a painful reminder of my horrible mistake.

Yuri had accompanied Ryne to HQ. It made sense for him to be there, but an uneasiness drifted in my chest. I still felt he was my responsibility.

Without any clouds to obscure the stars, the night air had cooled fast and there would be frost on the ground by morning. The official start to winter was nine days away.

“Yeah. Don’t piss us off, or we’ll take our girls and go,” Quain said to Ryne.

Kerrick shot him a look, but Quain kept his smug expression.

“No, you’re not traitors,” Ryne said. “I regretted my harsh words after you left. However, I still believe your decision to go was unfounded and reckless.”

“Even after we’ve given you two thousand, three hundred and forty-six reasons that it was well worth the effort?” I asked.

“Are you telling me you knew this would happen?” Ryne challenged.

“No. And I’ll admit there were times...” I shuddered at the memory of kneeling for hours “...that I agreed with you.”

“And I should learn to trust your instincts. Shall we call a truce?” Ryne asked.

“Agreed.” I shook his hand.

“Aww, nuts. Avry, you should have gloated some more,” Quain said.

We all ignored him. Flea poked at the fire with a stick. Bright sparks spiraled up into the air. He’d been extraquiet ever since we returned from Chinska Mare.

“How’s the war going?” Kerrick asked Ryne.

“Aside from a few skirmishes along the border, it’s not.”