With a thump, saying nothing, Ran slumped to the ground behind her, the effort of standing finally too much. He was lucky not to land on his sword. When she got to him his eyes were closed, and he didn't respond when she called his name. Tendrils of smoke coiled from his clothes and hair. She stroked his face, careful to avoid the burns. His flesh felt hot, as if some of the wyrmfire still raged inside him. Perhaps he had inhaled too much smoke, or too many fumes. His skin was greasy. Was it just the leaves overhead or did his face have a green tinge to it? It was incredible he had got this far, opened up the two wyrm roads so they could escape the north. The cost to him had been terrible.
Nox came to stand over her. “He doesn't look good.”
“He needs rest. I don't know, medicines and ban
