e trekked through the forest for about five minutes before Jason collapsed.
“Everybody, stop,” SJ ordered.
“We need to keep going,” Ormé said. “We haven’t put enough distance between us and the enemy.”
“Jason cannot keep going like this,” she argued. “This will only take a moment.”
She reached inside her magic potions sack and removed a little bottle filled with pink liquid—the second of two improvised healing potions she’d whipped up before leaving school.
“Jason, sit,” SJ said.
We helped Jason onto a log and SJ administered the liquid to the wound on his side. When she’d previously done this for Blue following an arrow injury, the concoction had sizzled, the blood had evaporated, and the wound had been closed with a splotch of glowing pink goo. Although Jason’s wound sizzled when t
