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Yu became a watcher and listener again.

But why?

He could not stand it; watching Bubs prioritise a human over a person. With every second it disturbed him more.

Why is he doing this?

Deltington and the krynn were no distraction. Their voices had gone quiet; the krynn was busy hauling their luggage from the walkway into the common room. All Yu heard now were his own suspicions; a messed up heap of —

Oh no.

What if the selder knows?

What if he KNOWS?

They are guides. They travel the Snowtrail as guides. He is young, but still, if he was here before, recently, maybe with his elders … then he will see.

He will see as soon as he wakes up.

He will see that the guards are fake.

Yu's whole body knotted tight. His beak clamped shut, but his tongue pressed hard against the back of it. He held his breath, but at the same time clenched his stomach to push it out.

They will let him die.

They will kill him.

But still, Yu said nothing.

He said nothing and he did nothing, as it the panic overflowed and flooded everything else in his mind, until there was only one thought left.

Get out.

To get out of this alive, he needed to be stupid.

Compliant. Useful.

And so he stood.

And he stared.

And he unclenched his beak.

And he drew in another breath.

While the shaman set the potion down. And Bubs finally worked the boot loose enough to peel it off by the sole.

The human now lay clothed only in her undergarments from the waist down. The splint remained, strapped tight from knee to ankle, with bandaging visible underneath. Yu had already glimpsed the mottled bruising around the break and the swelling above the ankle. The foot, as he saw now, was no better.

Seeing the full extent of the damage, Yu understood Bubs' intent with the boot. You would never have been able to pull it off without cutting it apart. The other leg was equally discoloured; there was deep red, pale yellow, and in places around the foot, blackened frost. The toes looked like they were made of wax. Skin peeled off everywhere.

"Shaman, I need you to prepare the girl," Bubs placed the ruined boot and scissors on the tray. "We need to fix the right leg. It will take more than an hour, possibly two. Use potions and salves. Dull the pain and make sure she doesn't wake. Ensure basic circulation. Then treat the left leg for frost."

There was something very wrong in how Bubs spoke to the shaman. How he commanded the thing inside her.

As uncanny as it was, it revealed a hierarchy and familiarity between them. Bubs was in charge, as it seemed, but the lack of explanations in his orders showed his confidence in the shaman. He did not tell her what he would do during those one or two hours. That meant she already knew. He also did not specify which medicines to use, but expected her to decide for herself. Whether they truly intended to save the human or not, Bubs delegated the shaman like he trusted her. Like he was used to work with her. With it.

When he finished with his orders, Bubs got back onto the middle stool and finally turned toward the selder. "What about him?" he said. "Not injured, you said?"

The borman's answer came delayed. You could almost see him processing each sentence, one after the other. It took him time to move past Bubs' commands to the shaman and realise that there was also a question aimed at him.

By the time he spoke, the shaman had already gotten up to collect a first pair of bottles from the shelves. She moved calmly, but with a quiet sense of purpose.

"No wounds," the borman said. "Only rest."

While the shaman drifted about the room, the borman stayed where he was, next to the human's bed. Yu, by contrast, stepped forward to look at the selder — though he kept his five-step distance from the borman and steered well clear of the shelves and cupboards, to avoid to the shaman.

While short, the selder had the lean proportions of a climber: long and wiry limbs wrapped in layers of oilcloth and knotted wool. His body sagged, twisted from being carried too long; tail crimped awkwardly under one leg, one arm pinned tight against his chest. His pale fur clung to him in matted tangles, rubbed thin in some places. Patches of it had come away, others were streaked with mud and blood.

"Tell me what happened," Bubs demanded.

"Not awake. Weak body. Weak air."

Bubs turned on his stool and stared at the borman. For once, his annoyance was not directed at Yu.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

"How long has he been unconscious?"

Now it was the borman who stared.

"How long is he not awake?" Bubs rephrased.

"Since Teharun."

"Teharun last night?"

"Yes. Last Teharun."

"Did you encounter witches?"

"No."

"Were you caught in spells? Traps?"

"No."

"Did you see any odd runes or markers? Did you sense or hear anything on the trail that seemed strange?"

"Many things."

"Then what happened before he fell asleep?" Bubs pressed.

"Many things. Happened. Only rest, for he. Heal Abar leg. Now. Please."

Of course the borman wanted his human treated first. What did he mean, a bar? A mislearned word in Teh, or something from the borman language?

"Trust that we will do our best for the girl," said Bubs. "The shaman is preparing potions now, to ease her pain and to strengthen her. I will work on the leg when the time is right."

Yu's eyes flicked to the shaman. She was at the far end of the room, with her back to him, arranging bottles along a slim workbench hewn from the stone.

"Meanwhile, we get him out of that gear," Bubs continued. "Everything but base layers. What's all this? Does he carry any artefacts?"

The question snapped Yu's attention to the selder's clothes. A harness and several small packs clung to him, secured in tightly woven loops across his chest and shoulders. Though it was a lot, everything seemed organised. Tools and tokens hung from his belt, amongst them a hollow-bone needle, a shard of mica wrapped in tarnished wire, and a flint-hafted blade barely the length of a claw. There were tiny pouches, wax-sealed scroll tubes, and one fabric bundle stitched from something like kelp. Bubs did not touch any of it. Instead, he leaned over the selder, tugging loose the end of a scarf and pulling it free. Then he pressed two fingers against his throat, his forehead, and his cheek.

"Only rest. The selder, only rest," the borman insisted. "Heal Abar leg."

"I will do what I can. Soon. What of this is artefacts?" Bubs asked. His hands moved around the belts, pressing the selder's shoulders and tracing gently along the sternum. "Shoulder's out. Collar's bruised. Looks like weight damage from a bad carry."

The borman replied slower now. "Maybe."

"What do you mean, maybe?"

"The artefacts of he, I know not."

"Yu, get Deltington."

"I stay," said the borman.

Bubs bent lower, sniffing along the collarbone. His nose wrinkled. "Yu, get Deltington."

"No, I stay," the borman said it again. "You heal leg."

Bubs pried one of the selder's eyes open, then his mouth. "No clouding. No rot. Not fevered. Breathing's wrong but not choking. Could be alchemical. Could be exhaustion. Yu, what are you waiting for?"

"I stay," the borman repeated, unyielding.

As Bubs let go, the selder's eyelids twitched. Unease ran across his face, but his eyes did not open. He only lay there, still and slack, as if lost in some heavy sleep.

It was the human who made noises. The shaman had sat down on the stool beside her and now lifted her upper body and head with one arm. She held her close, leaning her against her own body, while she tipped liquid from the first of two flasks she had brought from the workbench. Slowly, cautiously, she let it trickle between the human's lips, giving her time to swallow in small sips. Though she twisted, coughed, and panted raggedly, the human remained unconscious. Her body's movements were sluggish, restricted by the thick jacket and the towels propping her in place —

Something struck Yu on the forehead.

He screamed and swung at it with a full two second delay.

A bandage roll bounced to the floor.

It took Yu another pair of seconds to understand what had happened. That he was still standing here. That he was still a person in the room, not just some silent observer. That he was still expected to act. That Bubs had thrown that thing, because he wanted something from him.

Yu did not know what was wrong with him. He had heard and seen everything — had understood, somewhere deep down, that something was demanded of him, but at the same time, he was just not there anymore. Sometimes it was like this, when he heard many voices from different places, and listened to all, all of them loud and equally close in his head, until he lost track of where he actually stood, physically. Above that, he was also … just utterly exhausted, body and mind. He had arrived not a day ago, and since he got up, there had not been not a single moment of rest, and about one million moments of terror.

And yet, somehow, his body moved. A single step forward. Then he faltered.

"Can I eat something after?" he asked.

Bubs' black eyes fixed on him. "No."

"But —"

"I will tell you when to eat. Now get Deltington."

So Yu left, got to the common room and told Deltington.

And then, God help him, he said he was going to the toilet. He did not even go back to the medical room first. He just blurted it out to Deltington, so there would be no chance for Bubs to object. And then, without waiting for conformation, Yu bolted upstairs.

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Voices followed him – one voice.

The borman's low, rumbling insistence drifted after him, repeating again that the selder needed only rest and that Bubs should treat the human.

"This selder," Bubs cut in. "I assume you conscripted him for the trail?"

A pause.

"You paid him to guide you," rephrased Bubs.

"He is the guide of we," the borman confirmed. "He leave the tribe. He is with ... with we."

"I guessed as much. Listen. The selder mountain guides have their own arrangements with the guild —"

"He come to speak with the captain. With the guild captain."

Bubs halted.

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So did Yu. He halted on the stairs, thighs clamped tight, squeezing hard and listening with every scrap of focus he had left.

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"And so he may," Bubs said at last, very slowly. "But before that, I treat him. What you need to understand is this: the selder is your guide, not your party member. You do not decide how he is treated. We do. The guild knows how the selder want to be treated. This is an arrangement that we have. And so I will examine him. And I will do so without any further disturbance from you."

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Yu aborted. He turned and stumbled up the stairs. There were more words and then Deltington, but he could not catch them. He needed the toilet so badly that he could not listen a second longer.

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