Mara coughs and claws her shoulder at the base of her neck. Gauze greets her fingers. She rolls onto her side and rubs her right wrist; bandages coat the skin. Hands shaking, she touches her right ankle. Same thing.

“Mara, don’t take those off!” Kimala’s voice snaps.

Mara’s hand is yanked away from the bandages. Weak and disoriented, she collapses on her back, trying to keep from retching. Why is my neck hurting so much?

“How many fingers am I holding up?”

Mara opens her eyes again, her vision swimming. Kimala’s sky blue eyes and honey blonde hair come into focus. “Two,” Mara croaks and clears her throat. “Where are we?”

“Camp,” Kimala responds simply, rummaging in her bag. “Sit up and drink this.”

Wincing, Mara boosts herself onto her left elbow, cradling her right arm against her stomach. She glances around the clearing in the midst of healthy-looking trees. A colorful sunset stains the sky with color.

Kimala shoves a drink in Mara’s hand just as she catches sight of Codi, Rick, and a stranger at the campfire. She downs the vile liquid, forcing herself to swallow it. “Awful,” she coughs, handing it back to Kimala.

“That’s what you get for throwing yourself in front of Hemius,” Kimala half-heartedly chastises. “What would I have told your mother if you had died?”

Knowing this is the closest she is going to get to anything resembling sympathy from her cousin, Mara smirks at her. “Aww, you do care.”

“Don’t push it,” Kimala grumbles, shoving the latches closed on her bag. “I need to doctor your infection. Come closer to the fire; it’s getting too dark over here.”

Mara slowly rises to her feet, testing her ankle. It twinges as she uses it, but it is tolerable. Limping to the campfire, she carefully sits down next to Kimala and nods to the blonde-haired stranger. “Hello. Um… did you help us?”

He smiles at her, his blue eyes amused. “Yes. My name is Ace. How are you feeling?”

Mara returns the smile, feeling comfortable around this man for some odd reason. “Better than I thought I would after getting tossed around like a ragdoll. I’m Mara.”

Kimala yanks off the bandage on her shoulder a little harder than she should have. Mara winces. “You’re infected with Hemius in three places,” she begins as she pulls out a jar and glove. “Your ankle, wrist, and shoulder. All on the right side.”

The cold cream stings as it goes over the mark on Mara’s shoulder. She jerks partially away, startled at the pain. “Well, there goes my plans to live to a hundred years old,” she tries to joke.

Ace chuckles. “It’s possible you may do just that, Mara. Every Hemius patient is different.”

“Knowing her, she’ll probably not even make it to eighteen,” Kimala grumbles, but Mara hears a tone of guilt underneath the snarky comment. She reapplies the adhesive bandage and gestures for Mara’s wrist. “The more you strain your body, the faster it will spread. You need to take it easy until we get to Cerlail Academy, Mara. Once there, they will be able to more effectively sedate the Hemius from spreading so easily.”

“All right,” Mara sighs, watching Kimala unwind the bandage. A nasty bruise rings her wrist. Mara jumps when it shifts underneath her skin, twisting almost like a snake. “It moved.”

“Of course it did. It’s Hemius.” Kimala slathers the stinging ointment over the infected area. The Hemius slows down and finally stops; she wraps the bandage around it again. “Are you going to keep making stupid comments?”

Ace watches the interaction between them, a small amused smile on his face. “I assume you have not seen a Hemius infection before,” he comments.

Mara glances at him and notices two pointed ears sticking out from his straight hair. Elf, she thinks, remembering Aeserast’s brief lesson on them. Which means he’s at least eighteen. “Not before today,” she admits as Kimala works on her ankle. She frowns, examining her leg. “What happened to my pants?”

Kimala huffs. “I had to cut part of it off because they were searing into your flesh from the Hemius’s touch. It probably hurt me more than you, since it is my mother’s handiwork.”

Mara sighs as Kimala finishes up and tosses the wasted glove into the fire. It disintegrates in a blackish-purplish plume. “I’m just glad you’re okay, Tein’stra Kimala.”

Kimala stares at the dissipating purple plume. “Don’t do that. It sounds weird coming from you.”

Mara watches Codi and Rick prepare dinner. “Yeah, it does.”

Kimala hesitates. “Hemius sometimes creates new injuries from within. If you feel lightheaded or suddenly have sharp pains, let me know immediately.”

Mara glances out of the corner of her eye at the stoic girl. I guess she can care. “Sure thing.”

“That’s a medic’s traveling satchel, isn’t it?” Ace queries, pointing to Kimala’s tan bag.

Kimala is unable to decide whether to be flirtatiously embarrassed or wary of the cute elf’s curiosity. She picks the latter. “It’s not much of a secret if everyone knows about it.”

He grins. “Nah, I have a medic friend who loves those things. She shows them off anytime she has a chance.”

Codi and Rick prepare supper as Kimala and Ace chat over the different types of medical bags. Mara stares into the Source-created fire; she can barely make out the flat object in the middle of the stones that is emitting the heat and flame-shaped designs into the air above it. The artificial flames dance, reminding her of the Hemius’s burning tendrils wrapping around her limbs and tossing her through the air.

Shivering from the memory, Mara crosses her arms and places her head on her knees, blocking the view of the flames and hiding her sparking hands. Tuning out her companions, she focuses on the surroundings, trying to calm down.

The sun had set several minutes ago, so the nighttime animals are stirring. Mara listens to the odd hoots and screeches, remembering Codi’s comment that this is a dangerous world. We’ll have to assign guard, she thinks, listening to the noises and ignoring the dull ache in her injuries. I probably won’t sleep well tonight. I wonder if I can get the first shift…

A strange hollering noise drifts on the gentle summer night breeze. Focusing on it, Mara jerks her head to the right where she can faintly see the trees thinning closer to the pathway. “There are people coming.”

Everyone stops and stares at her. A distinctive nasal voice shouts in a foreign language.

“Slavers,” Ace breathes, his eyes going wide. He waves his hand over the Source fire; it dims before being snuffed out. “Stay quiet.”

Rick slowly unsheathes his sword and walks to the edge of the clearing closest to the road. Ace follows suit, holding his rounded blade.

Mara glances around, searching for her weapons. Codi reaches behind him and holds up one of her dagger sheaths. He tosses it her way, and she catches it.

The voices grow closer. Mara slinks over to Ace and Rick, staring through the trees; Narein and Naros illuminate the pathway several hundred yards away.

A caravan rumbles down the north road. Oddly enough, there are no animals pulling it. Instead, four people trail alongside it, their hands touching the wooden panels of the large enclosed wagon.

Mara pauses next to Ace. “Do you think they’ll come this way?” she breathes.

Ace glares at the caravan, his blue eyes dark and frightening in the night’s shadows. “It is well-known that travelers rest here,” he murmurs back. “They may try sending a small group to thieve or even kidnap us.”

Mara grips her sheath, touching the thread around her neck. Startled at the lack of a pendant, she glances down.

Ace notices and smiles bitterly. “Tein’stra Kimala said it broke.”

Mara groans inwardly. She wonders if Aeserast will be angry. Clutching her single dagger, she mourns over the losses in the Hemius pond. She hopes Shaniel hadn’t paid too much for the daggers…

“Get ready,” Rick whispers as the caravan of people approach. The big wagon-like box stops just a few hundred yards away, and several men hop out of the back and work their way to the clearing with weapons drawn. The four people walking alongside the wagon sit down, leaning against the box in exhaustion.

“Those are the mages,” Ace comments in a low voice. “We have to do this quietly; we don’t need them involved.”

Mara nods and swallows hard. It feels wrong to ambush these people, but when she glances at Codi and Kimala, even they look determined. Kimala has a small knife – probably Codi’s – while Codi wields his two-handed short sword.

As soon as the first two walk between Rick and Ace, they leap out and slash at the unsuspecting intruders. They collapse to the ground, not moving. The remaining four slavers charge in, and the scuffle begins.

Mara’s fingers strike the nearest man in the jugular as her other palm collides with his face. Crack. The man chokes and falls, his nose broken. Mara snaps her dagger’s pommel against the big man’s temple and he collapses, unconscious.

Ace and Rick efficiently take care of the other three intruders while Mara incapacitates the fourth one. That went smoother than I thought it would, she thinks, kneeling next to the unconscious man and emptying his pockets.

Ace raises an eyebrow. “What do you think you’ll find?” he murmurs.

“Nothing,” she murmurs, pulling out knick-knacks. “But we don’t need him pulling out a hidden weapon while we’re interrogating him on how to get by without being noticed by any other scouts.” Feeling a round object, she pulls her hand out. A bright orangish-red stone glows softly like an ember in her palm. She frowns.

Ace kneels beside her and snatches the stone, staring at it in shock. “This is a dragon stone,” he whispers, his hand shaking. He stares at Mara. “This means…”

“They have the missing dragon duir’ne,” Rick finishes, his expression grim.