Page 109 of Kingdoms of Night

He confined a laugh to a snort. “You really can’t count.”

“Of course I can.” She straightened, but when his ribs twinged and he winced, she pressed her lips tightly together, wrinkling her nose, and then slowly continued helping him along. “I work with venom and poison. You have to be precise. You think I could be an expert and not know how to count? But why don’t you prove me wrong? Ten steps. Ready? One.”

Merde, his body tensed with suppressed laughter, even as it wanted to turn itself inside out. His stomach still might.

Even so, he set down each step firmly, shooting her a determined glare. “One. Two. Three—”

“Five. One.” She managed a lopsided smile, her lips tight and the lines of her neck corded.

This—he—had to be exhausting, but here she was, trying to distract him from the pain and exertion. Maybe distracting herself as much as him.

“Three. Two.” Sweat rolled down her straining arms, the blanket bunched in her hand.

He tried not to lean on her so hard. “Two. Three. Four.”

“One.” She grinned.

“Stop that,” he grumbled. If she made him laugh, the pain in his ribs would make him vomit.

“If you keep making me start from the beginning, we’re never going to get those ten steps.” She raised her chin matter-of-factly. “We’re really just ten steps away.”

“We aren’t.”

“We are. Count with me! One. Two. Three. Four—”

“Five!” He stared at his blurry feet, shoving one in front of the other. A few more steps, and he’d fall flat on his face, regardless of trees to brace on or Idalno guiding him.

She nodded. “Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. See!”

Mm-hmm. Another ten steps, for sure. He lifted his head, expecting to see more trees and nothing, but no...this time there was a hut. A bad-looking one. One close to falling apart.

But it was there, all the same. As long as it had one corner and part of a roof, that was enough. This one looked like it even had two corners, or more.

Hawthorn ran up the three cracked stone steps and pawed at the worn door to open it. It groaned on rusted hinges, as if it felt too old for this, but a warm glow emanated from the doorway.

With Idalno’s help, he made his way up the stairs and stooped to avoid hitting his head on the top of the door. If he cracked his skull one more time today, a yolk would pour out. The fire crackled in the brown stone fireplace, casting a cozy haze throughout the entire space. When the heat embraced his body, his eyelids slid shut, even as he moved. He hadn’t even realized he’d been cold until now.

The weight in his limbs pulled him down. He didn’t even fight it. Just making it through the doorway would be good enough. If he slept where he hit the floor, that would be fine by him.

But the floor didn’t hit him.

His face poofed onto something soft, something that smelled like damp leaves and dry bergamot.

His eyes still burned, but he struggled to take a peek.

A bed. It was a nice surprise, but how had she found it?

The blessed relief of being in a bed again—a comfortable one at that—settled in, soaking deep down to his bones like the heat of a hot spring.

He wanted to ask her how she’d made a miracle happen, but all that came out was an exhausted moan.

The blanket smoothed up around him, more of Idalno’s miracle working, and then tucked up around his feet. The soft material encased him, comforting in a way he hadn’t felt in ages, if he could even remember.

“You’re going to sleep until morning,” Idalno said, her instruction leaving no room for argument. Just as well, since his voice seemed incapable of it. And words in general. Some sounds, too. Most of them, probably. “We’ll sort out the rest then.”

Yes. Rest.

Her hands rested on his shoulders, then firmed as she rolled him over onto his back. She slid an arm under his neck.

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