Garrow didn't report back to Rong that night. He didn't report back the next day either, and by the third day, Rong summoned him personally, impatient and suspicious in equal measure.
"You said this would be finished," Rong said, voice still tight from a shoulder that hadn't healed right, probably never would. "Instead I hear nothing, and my men who went with you won't meet my eyes."
Garrow stood stiff, ribs still bandaged tight under his robes, pride bruised worse than the injury itself. "The disciple is stronger than we accounted for, Elder."
"Stronger than four of my men and you combined?"
"Yes."
Rong's expression darkened, calculation replacing anger. "Then we stop treating him like a problem that solves itself with enough hands thrown at it." He studied Garrow a long moment, some
