“And now?” His eyes were narrowed into slits.
“I don’t think it matters. If I don’t do something, you’re going to die.”
“I doubt I’m fortunate enough to manage that,” he said in a dull voice.
She reached out, just barely touching his arm. “Ferron, what’s happened to your back?”
His eyes fluttered closed as if he was too exhausted for the conversation. She could see the black veins even in his eyelids.
“See for yourself,” he finally said, “since you’re so determined.”
Very slowly and carefully she unfastened his cloak and lifted it off. He flinched but didn’t utter a sound. The miasma of old, fetid wounds filled the air as she unfastened the buttons of his shirt. Stepping behind him as gently as she could, she drew the clothing off his shoulders.
There were no bandages underneath. Hi
