“Are you certain?” Hazel’s voice was laced with worry. “I mean, you could have gotten a cut in your mouth or something. Are you sure it was from the illness?”

“I’m pretty confident,” he nodded dismally. “It didn’t look like normal blood. It was thicker and darker, like it came from somewhere deep.”

“But how is that even possible?” she raked her fingers through her hair. “I don’t understand. It hasn’t even been a month since you told me the second phase started. Even if you overexerted yourself, it shouldn’t have progressed that quickly.”

“Yet, here we are,” he shrugged, trying to remain calm in the face of his healer’s nervousness.

“This is the worst timing too,” she went on, shaking her head. “We’re two days’ walk from our camp by the river. How are you going to make it back if you can’t even stand up straight?”

“We’ll figure something out,” he said stubbornly.

“What if we’re spotted by knights? How will you be able to—”

“Darling, please,” Crow interrupted with an exasperated sigh. “Calm down. We just need to focus on getting back to our camp to the east right now. We can worry about the trip home later.”

“You’re right,” Hazel exhaled, coming back to herself. She moved to stand at his side and draped his arm around her shoulders. “Let’s just get you back to the others.”

“Thanks,” he said, leaning away from the goat pen to rest his weight against her instead. Checking his balance, he took an unsteady step towards the door. She moved with him and together, they managed to make it out to the main road of the village.

--

The journey back to the camp on the ridge was strenuous for both of them; Crow, because of his injured leg and fatigue, and Hazel, because she had to carry half of his weight when he was practically twice her size. However, despite the difficulties, they managed to make it back just before the sun disappeared over the western horizon.

When they reached the campsite, Hazel walked him over to the sleeping area and helped him down, so he wouldn’t collapse and potentially hurt his already wounded leg. The thief sat on his bed and leaned back on his palms, closing his eyes as he focused on slowing his breathing after the effort of trekking all the way back from Grimsby.

“What happened to you?” Alistair frowned at him after watching the whole scene from where he sat with the other thieves by the fire.

“He hurt his leg during the battle,” Rikki explained with a shrug.

“That’s not all,” Hazel pitched in. Turning to Crow, she crossed her arms. “Go on, tell them what you did, dumbass.”

Crow shot her a glare and then averted his gaze off to the side, his face heating up with embarrassment as he admitted reluctantly: “I got caught up in a fight that made my illness worse.”

“I managed to drag him back here, but there’s no way in hell I’m carrying him all the way to our hideout by the river,” Hazel shook her head and turned to eye Alistair and Simon. “You two look strong enough. As the resident healer for all of you criminals, I’m electing both of you to make sure this idiot gets back in one piece. Think you can do that, boys?”

“Not a problem,” Alistair gave a lazy salute.

“Of course,” Simon nodded.

“Good,” Hazel stretched her arms over her head. “Now that that’s settled, I’m going to get some sleep.” With that, she stepped over to her own mat and laid down with her back to the group, signaling that she was done talking for the night.

Crow watched her for a moment and then rolled his eyes. She just loved making him look like a fool. It didn’t slip past him that she had worded everything in a way to make it look like it had all been his fault. It wasn’t like he had gone charging into battle or even chosen to face those two Younisians. He had been careful to stay hidden until that damned rafter had snapped under his weight. He winced as he shifted his injured leg. He had done everything right this time, yet fate had still found a way to make a mockery of him. And tomorrow he was going to have to face the embarrassment of being half carried all the way back to their camp. He sighed. It just kept getting better and better.

Laying down on his own bed, he drew his blanket up to his chin and closed his eyes, ready for a good, long rest after everything that had happened that day. As he drifted off, he hoped that his illness would fade in the morning, so he wouldn’t need Simon or Alistair’s help to walk back.