“Seriously, crow, you did not need to come,” he scowled as he tried to sit up. Lines of pain crossed over his face, harsh and horrible and unforgiving. Instinctively Stare reached out and curled an arm under his shoulders to support him, her eyes narrowed.
“Elf,” she looked at the injured elf seriously. “You look awful. Seriously awful.” He made an agonising face and she firmly then brought up a hand to press him back down to the bed. It took a moment of struggling between the two wills for him to grunt and then slump back down onto the cushions and blankets.

They were in Bottleberry Avenue, within the house that Vitruvion had bought there. Raevin lay on a futon that had been set up on the lower floor, resting his legs … leg.

Stare had been horrified when she had seen it. The whole section below the left knee for the elf had been severed and the end burnt to black. Healers had been called upon but n the best they had been able to do was remove any more dead flesh, which had continued up his body to under his armpit. Now he looked like a mummified corpse, but one who had only been half wrapped, with his arms bare and his good leg still working. What was possibly the worst part, however, was that the damaging blow had also managed to hit part of his sensitive area. None had mentioned it yet, but it was likely Raevin would never be a father.

Stare pushed him back onto the cushions, and forced him to relax. He had started when she had come into the room, but she herself was not having that.

“I was in the city anyway,” she explained, “I planned to come here to stay the night anyway. But then I heard that you had been struck.” She paused. “Surely you're an elf. You have some form of magic to help heal …”

The man shook his head, screwing up the covers with a tightening fist. “It's dark magic, crow. Mixed with demon. Not even your master could.”

“Employer,” Stare reprimanded him.

A pale eyebrow rose, reading to touch the brown hair before Raevin grimaced again. He screwed up his face as he leant to the side and coughed loudly. Immediately Stare's arms were out, one draped over his shoulders.

“Elf …” she sighed. “You need to come back to Beinost. There you can-”

“I am not bringing whatever magic attacked me back into our city,” Raevin said decidedly, leaning forwards limply. Despite his condition he still seemed strong enough to let his thoughts known. “Sir Elssmith has enough troubles on his own.”

“How - what happened?” Stare asked him quietly, running a hand on his back lightly as he coughed more, careful not to scar him with her claws.

The elf looked at her a moment with his pale green eyes before sighing. “The attack came when we least expected it. In the middle of the day. There were maybe ten of them, with at least two mages. Brer took one down,” he spoke of their half-giant colleague. “And the other … he was more powerful. He slaughtered one of us, then I went for him. I managed to kill him but lost my leg.”

Starr found herself nodding. She had suffered similarly at the hands of the same sort of mage. A demon one, bound to the lord Sabazios, the same demon lord who had been manipulated by Vitruvion's half brother. A man who seemed intent on bringing down Vitruvion's downfall and who had ordered the attack on the brewery that Raevin had been involved with, and the attack on the merchant ships that Stare had just come from.

“You … are here why?”

The kenku breathed in. “Ships. We have lost two, plus a whole bulk load of cargo in one. The other, the Zephyr, is now anchored in a small town up north. Where the faun keeps hers.”

Raevin blinked heavily. “I see,” he grunted.

She paused for a moment. “Elf, the maid said that you have not yet shown any signs of good recovery. She said you have tried every healer available.”

The guard captain groaned. “Crow, if you are going to try to suggest another person who will just come in here and prod me-”

“No,” she shook her head, her eyes bright and gently helped him to lie back down. “No, I'm more thinking … what about Nevin? He is here, he is an alchemist. And - he has magic that even Vitruvion has trouble understanding. He should be able to help.”

Raevin looked at her a while, then blinked and grunted. “So long as he doesn't poke at the bloody things.”

The kenku smiled and patted his shoulder. “I will specifically ask him not to.” Then she paused. “Oh and also. Bloody - I know I am immortal now.”

There was a brief look of guilt that came over Raevin's face. Then he smiled awkwardly. Clearly he had known as well. Another person who had known, and not been willing to let her know, even though she believed it her right. “Well …”

She folded her arms grumpily as she sat back in the chair. “Yeah. The bastard didn't even tell me.”

“He didn't want to lose you,” the elf said quietly.

“Hmm,” she rolled her eyes. “But he did not have to wait until I actually died for me to fully find out.”

I accept your thankful gratification for the gift, a voice in her head said. Stare paused, then groaned and ground her eyes at the permanent cuff on her wrist.

“For one moment there,” she told Raevin, “I actually forgot about him.”

---

She strode in, dressed in her finest tunic, her daggers and helmet attached to her belt. Her dark eyes darted around the room, different from his one in Stonevale but still with a degree of familiarity. Her nostrils flared a little, and then she rolled her shoulders back before she looked at the counter and the couple of people before it.

One was old and another young. They were speaking in low voices, eager apparently to conduct their business with the proprietor in relevant privacy. Respectfully she stood behind them and waited for her turn.