Chapter Twenty-Eight

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Tanden never wanted to move again. He was warm, there were arms around him, he was comfortable. The man beside him—Soren, his sluggish thoughts reminded him—was breathing slowly, his chest rising and falling gently. Tanden could have stayed there forever.

Then he shifted, and pain shot through his left arm.

His eyes shot open and he sat up, stifling a moan. Or a whimper. He wasn't exactly sure what noise his body wanted to make, but he stopped it. He held his breath as if that would help, and once the pain subsided, he inhaled deeply. Exhaled, inhaled, exhaled again.

He looked around the room as he tried to mentally force his arm to stop hurting. It was bound in a sling that seemed to wrap around his back, holding his arm snugly in place. Soren was asleep peacefully beside him. They were in a small room, dark except for a flickering fire and faint daylight. Their amazingly comfortable bed was really a thin mattress and pile of blankets on the floor. Around the room, there were five other piles of blankets.

The day before came back to him in flashes. Walking through the caves. Rald Caro. The boy's family, reluctantly laying a mattress by the fire for them. Some sort of warm tea.

Tanden eyed the nearest window and tried to determine if the faint light was sunrise or sunset. Had they slept through a whole day? And then a whole night? He lay his hand on Soren's shoulder and shook him, hoping Soren wouldn't be as disoriented as he felt.

"He won't wake up."

Tanden flinched, momentarily confused until he realized that the voice was speaking in Teltish, and that it was Jale. "What? Why?"

She crouched beside him and held out a mug. Tanden watched the steam curl in the air, and then it occurred to him that she wanted him to take it. He remembered the tea from the day before. The night before? He shook his head.

"I don't want it." He sounded whinier than he meant to. "That's why I can't think. Something in the tea."

"Yes, but you're feeling your arm because your last dose wore off," Jale said.

Tanden blinked. Jale's features were getting clearer as the room brightened. So it was sunrise. "What?"

"Oh." Jale exhaled as slowly as he had earlier. It was almost a sigh. "The tea put you to sleep," she explained. "It also warmed you up and helped block the pain in your arm. Soren isn't going to wake up because his dose wore off a little earlier than yours did and he's already had more."

"But I can't think."

"You'll be asleep, you don't need to think. You need to rest." Jale picked up his hand and placed the mug in it. "I'm glad you woke up. I need to ride to Morie Caro. Hopefully I'll be back before you wake up again."

Tanden reluctantly sipped the tea. He didn't want to, but he trusted Jale. "Why are you leaving?"

"You probably don't remember, but you offered this family a lot of weis. When Soren was awake, he told me where your money is stored in the Wayfarer. So I need to go get it."

Part of that sounded familiar, if Tanden really tried to remember it. Stumbling out of the mines hungry, dehydrated and cold. The exhaustion making it hard to think. Worrying about Soren, just wanting to get him dry and warm. His arm throbbing in time with his heartbeat. He remembered Jale trying to ask people in the town to take them in. He remembered turning to the boy and offering an obscene amount of money. Easily five times what they would actually be charged in an inn.

He swallowed more of the tea. It didn't taste good, but he could feel the warmth of it sinking into his stomach. It was already putting him to sleep. He forced his eyes open and tried to focus, just a little longer. "When you come back, we'll all ride to Morie Caro?"

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