Lysa kneels beside the stretcher, leaning over him with her ear close to his mouth.
“There’s fluid in his lungs.” She presses a hand to his head. “And his fever is climbing. The infection is spreading rapidly.”
She reaches for her pack, retrieving a thin blade and various herbs whose pungent scents cut through the night air.
“I need you to hold him still. This is going to hurt, but it’s necessary.”
Kiran and I position ourselves at Sacha’s shoulders, while Varam and Jarel take his legs. Arem keeps watch. Lysaworks quickly, creating a small incision in his side where infection has gathered beneath the surface. Dark fluid seeps immediately from the wound, carrying the unmistakable stench of corruption. She presses gently around the area, encouraging drainage, before applying a poultice of crushed herbs.
Sacha remains unnervingly still throughout the entire process. Only the shallow rise and fall of his chest confirms he’s still alive. And then a strangled sound escapes him. For one hopeful heartbeat, I think he might be regaining consciousness. Then his breathing stops completely.
“He’s not breathing,” I cry out, panic clawing up my throat.
Lysa’s hands press against his chest in a careful rhythm, mindful of his broken ribs. “Come on,” she mutters.
The seconds stretch unbearably. My nails dig crescents into my palms. When I’m certain we’ve lost him, Sacha draws a ragged breath, followed by another. Relief hits me so hard my vision blurs and my body sags.
Lysa catches my eye. “That was too close.”
“Will this be enough?” I can’t hide the fear from my voice.
Her expression doesn’t help the anxiety forming in my stomach. “It buys him some time. Nothing more than that.”
There’s a new urgency to our movements when we set off again. The stream Varam mentioned appears as a pale ribbon in the moonlight, its gentle sound masking our passage through the underbrush crowding its banks.
The ravine narrows as we continue pushing forward, steep walls rising on either side. Every step needs careful concentration, every move focused on the need for speed, and trying to keep Sacha’s stretcher stable.
My mind throws out questions as we travel.
Who told the Authority we were going to be there? Who could have betrayed us? How long have they been plotting against the very people they are supposed to be protecting?
First Ashenvale, then Glassfall Gap. Ithasto be someone within Stonehaven, somehow feeding information to the Authority, to Sereven.
Did Sacha know? Did Sereven tell him one of his own has betrayed him?
I wonder if Varam has reached the same conclusion. I drag my attention away from Sacha to look at him. He’s scanning our surroundings as we walk, tension vibrating through him.
Is he having the same thoughts as me?
After what feels like an eternity, he signals for us to stop. In front of us is a solid rock face, dense foliage growing around the base.
“We’re here. Set him down.” They carefully ease the stretcher to the ground, and Varam walks across to the rock. His hands move across the surface, then he disappears behind a curtain of vines.
“Mira and Tarn will know where we are, they’ll meet us here when they can. The cave system extends deep into the mountain. It’s unlikely anyone else knows of its location, but there is another exit if we need it.”
Getting Sacha inside presents a new challenge, though. The opening is too narrow for the stretcher, which means he’ll need to be carried.
“I’ll take his shoulders,” Varam says. “Arem, take his legs. The rest of you will have to help keep him stabilized. We need to keep him as comfortable as possible.”
With as much care as we can, we lift Sacha from the stretcher. Even unconscious, he responds to the movement. His muscles tense, and his breath catches with a pain he can’t voice. The restraints at his wrist catch the moonlight, and for a second, it seems like the symbols engraved in them are moving, twisting along the metal.
Getting through the cave’s entrance is a nightmare of angles and adjustments. We have to guide Sacha’s limp form through the opening inch by painful inch. Inside, the cave opens into a larger chamber. Moisture glistens on the walls. The air feels cooler, carrying a mineral scent that speaks of deep earth and hidden water.
Varam leads us deeper, following a passage that twists leftward before opening into a second chamber. Here, there’s evidence of people spending time here before. A stone ring for a fire, small niches carved into the walls like shelves, and a natural depression in the floor is lined with stones to collect dripping water from the ceiling.
Lysa gets to work as soon as we stop, unpacking the few medical supplies she has. Her hands move with a confidence that speaks of too many similar moments, too many fighters brought back broken.
“I need light.” All her focus is on Sacha, as if the rest of us have ceased to exist.