Chapter 23
Although it was not by choice, Liselle was the first to awake. The agony that was radiating from her jaw had seeped into her dreams, poisoning her sleep as salt poisoned a well; and her subsequent tossing and turning had only made matters worse. Finally, her eyelids had fluttered open of their own accord.
She eased herself into a sitting position, then looked around for her companions. Lathwi was curled up beneath an old oak, seemingly no better or worse for yesterday’s ordeal. Conversely, Pawl was sprawled face-down on the ground like a dead man. The gouges in his back leered at her: fat, lipless grins whose interiors were marbled with fresh blood, whitish sera and spring-green pus. Liselle didn’t need a physician’s training to recognize infection when she saw it, or to know
