He glanced down at the makeshift bandage. It was only spotted with blood, which was strange given the depth of the wounds, but perhaps the poison had cauterized the blood vessels somehow. Or maybe it was spreading through his body and he was dying right now.

“It’s bad,” he said.

She bit her lip, considering. “If there’s an antidote to the poison, I don’t know about it. The best we can do is treat the wounds. I’ll get supplies. But I won’t be able to make it back before dark.”

Dark was hours away. If he made it that long, there was a good chance he’d survive. But it might be a slow, painful death in the meantime. “I understand.”

“Just promise me you won’t go anywhere. The fact that you’re here, that I hel—that I haven’t killed you...” She swallowed and raised her chin. “Yet,” she added, a reminder of how precarious his situation was.

“I won’t go anywhere,” he said, gesturing to his bad leg. “I promise.”

She nodded, looking a little relieved.

When she’d said she wasn’t helping him, he’d had the distinct impression she’d meant she was helping herself. If she really was one of the Watchers Lupin had told him about, then it was her duty to kill him. For whatever reason, she hadn’t, but the fact that he benefited was merely incidental. He wondered what would happen to her if someone found out. Judging by her expression, nothing good.

She handed him her box of matches. “You must be hungry. I don’t have any food on me, unfortunately.”

He shook his head, even though he hadn’t eaten since yesterday. He didn’t want to push her generosity any further. “I’ll be fine.”

She stared at him with eyes the color of the faded blue velvet in his mother’s little glass jewelry box, the one all of his sisters coveted and took turns secretly smuggling into hiding places, hoping the others wouldn’t notice. “I suppose you’ll have to be.”

And with that, she turned and closed the door behind her.

For a while, Jaren sat on the floor, thinking. Perhaps waiting here wasn’t the best idea. He sensed that Leelo’s actions had far more to do with her than with him, and she could change her mind at any moment, or tell someone else and let them do the dirty work for her.

Unfortunately, running didn’t really seem like an option right now. The wound on his leg was throbbing, pulsating in time to his heartbeat. His body temperature was fluctuating between hot and cold, and his mouth felt as dry as his mother’s meatloaf.