Talking until midnight, we batted a few ideas around, but no one had any more insight into Cellina’s plans. Tired from seven days on the road, I spread my bedroll near Flea’s.

“Can I talk to you in private?” Flea asked in a whisper.

“Sure.” We moved away from the fire.

“There’s a patient I’ve separated from the rest,” he said.

“Why?” Flea’s serious tone scared me more than the secrecy.

“There’s something wrong with him.”

“You should have told me right away. Where is he?” I demanded.

“He’s not critical. He’s in another cavern. It’s just...”

“What? Flea, spit it out.”

“I think he has the plague.”

Kerrick

KERRICK

Kerrick didn’t know how long he lay on the forest floor. Energy returned to him in small frustrating increments. He’d only been gone from the forest for a few minutes and it had sapped all his strength and magic. Which was the opposite of how his magic worked before he’d gotten sick. Now he needed to use his power to leave the forest and to turn his skin back to its original tan color.

You are of the forest, the living green had said to him. Alive like trees and plants.

Those words scared him. Did they mean he was confined to the forest, rooted there like the trees? Was that the price for his life? He hoped not. Perhaps he just needed to regain his strength. After all, he’d been unconscious for weeks.

When he felt better, he pushed to his feet. Flea’s message had been terse. Bag in sticky pine. Kerrick smiled, remembering how Flea hated to get sap on his hands. Quain had teased him, saying that as an ex-thief Flea should be used to sticky fingers. The boy had stared at Quain through his long bangs and replied, “Who said I’m retired?”

Kerrick found his pack shoved into the bushy branches of a white pine tree. Needles stuck to the material, and a squirrel had chewed on the leather straps. Most of his clothing, along with his weapons, money pouch, and boots had been stuffed inside. Only one shirt was missing. His dadao sword had been wrapped in oiled skins and hung from a branch.

The setting sun had cooled the air. He dressed quickly, wrapping his short black cape around his shoulders. His clothes turned the colors of the forest as soon as he donned them. Handy. A quick check confirmed his lock picks remained in place. Flea had also included jerky, travel rations, and a note. Kerrick built a small fire. Gnawing on a piece of jerky, he read Flea’s letter.

Kerrick,