“And suture wounds, set bones and wash patients. You’re not squeamish, are you?”

“I...”

“Great comeback, Quain.” Loren smirked. “Or should I call you lord of the bedpans?”

“Lord B.P., for short,” Flea chimed in, causing a ripple of laughter.

Enric stood. “I think I’ll volunteer to work a shift tonight. Good night.”

When he disappeared from sight, Quain leaned forward and asked, “Where did you find him? He’s as dry as jerky.” He waved the piece he’d been gnawing on.

“Be nice, Lord B.P.”

* * *

Working with patients and hanging out with the boys, I started to feel stronger. Grief still hit me at odd times, crashing over me with an unexpected fierceness. At those times all I could do was stagger to an empty cavern and curl up into a tight ball, letting the waves of misery flow until spent.

As the days progressed, new casualties arrived as I released others. One man had a nasty cut on his calf that had become infected on the long trip here. There had to be a better way to get to the injured, but I couldn’t think of it.

It was a steady stream but not overwhelming. I’d assumed Ryne’s tactics must be working, but on the sixth day we received bad news with the latest batch of patients. The red Xs had advanced, and we might have to evacuate within the week.

Sergeant Odd arrived the next afternoon with his Odd Squad. He didn’t have any injured, but he had heard I’d escaped and stopped by for a visit. While his unit visited with the patients, cheering them up, Odd and I talked.

“We’re back in business,” Odd said with a huge smile. “Finally using all that training. Me and my Odds are silent as ghosts thanks to you.”

Glad to see him, I asked, “How are the others doing?”

“Saul has what’s left of the jumping jacks and a few of his original unit. I’ve heard they’re doing major damage to the west. Wynn has a young squad, and they have been mostly running messages.”

“But it isn’t enough, is it?”

Odd waved away my concern. “It’s like chipping away at a huge rolling boulder. Eventually, we’ll carve it down into a tiny pebble.”

“By then, we might be up against the Nine Mountains.”

Odd shrugged. “If that’s what it takes.”

I admired his optimism. And maybe he was right. After all, he’d been out on the field of battle, engaging the enemy. Which reminded me. “Have you seen Belen?”

He sobered. “No sign of him. There have been rumors he was turned, but I don’t believe them.”

“Why not?”

“’Cause it’s Belen. Come on. Do you really think he’d get caught? No way. He’s just lying low somewhere, waiting for an opportune moment to strike.” Odd curled his fingers into claws and growled.

It sounded more like a cat in pain than a bear, but he succeeded in making me smile. “Maybe that should be our secret signal.”

“Oh. I like. With or without the roar?”

“Without. Since you’re the ghosts of the forest now.”

“Ah, yes. But what would it mean? We found Belen? Or we found a huge man-eating bear? No, wait, that could be confusing.”

I laughed. “How about it means it’s time to strike.”

“Perfect.” And then Odd’s eyes lit up, and he growled, dashing to the cave’s entrance.

For one heartbreaking second, I thought Belen had arrived, but it was Wynn. Odd pulled her into a hug, then led her over to me.

“Look who’s back,” Odd said to Wynn. “Avry escaped the big bad.”

“I’m the one who told you, you idiot.” She elbowed him in the ribs. “Good to see you, Baby Face.”

“It’s so nice to see you both. Here. At the same time. What a  coincidence,” I said.

Odd leered and Wynn elbowed him harder this time.

“How’s the scar doing? Are you having any trouble eating?” I stepped close, examining the jagged line along the left side of her jaw.

“It doesn’t bother me at all. In fact, it’s actually useful.”

“How?”

“All I have to do is snarl and scowl at the kids in my unit, and they about wet their pants.” She laughed. “Youth can be wonderful when we’re trekking through the woods for twelve hours at a time, but, man, they can be pretty dense at times.”

“Are you staying tonight?” I asked.

“Yep, I even brought supper. Coll, get in here,” she yelled.

A very young man—younger than Flea—scurried in carrying four dead rabbits.

“Fresh meat,” Wynn said.

“The rabbits or Coll?” Odd asked.

She smirked. “Both.”

The poor boy blanched. I took the rabbits from Coll, and he bolted for the exit.

“I’ll give these to the cook,” I said. “He makes a delicious stew, but it’ll be a few hours.”

Odd turned to Wynn. “In that case, would you like to have an early supper with me?”

Confused, I said, “The stew won’t be that long.”

They exchanged grins.

“Oh.”

“Ah, Baby Face, you’re finally growing up.” Wynn took Odd’s hand.

They left to find a private place to...er...dine. Various emotions tumbled in my chest—happy for them and sorrow that the one I’d like to have an early supper with was gone.