“I told you to remain behind.” Fel said. His rough voice was edged with pain, and he winced as he spoke.

The warrior was sitting on the black stair where he had fallen, leaning back against the steps above. Zo’Dal knelt just below him at the base of the stair, wrapping a strip of cloth torn from his tunic around the oozing wound in his leg. The bottom few steps were slick with blood, their glassy black surfaces splattered deep red in the flickering lantern-light. Some of it belonged to Fel.

“Perhaps I should have, then you wouldn’t be alive to scold me.” Zo’Dal replied, letting her annoyance bleed freely into her words. She didn't look up from her work.

She finished tying the makeshift bandage around his leg and gave it a final, perhaps overly sharp, tug to ensure it was tight enough. That elicited a quiet grunt of discomfort from Fel, and Zo’Dal felt a twinge of guilt at the satisfaction that gave her.

The bite wound on his leg was deep and ragged, already beginning to stain the bandage red. Fel’s expression was no more severe than it had been since she first met him, but she knew he had to be in a lot of pain. Zo’Dal had never had reason to learn the art of healing, and she doubted her modest care would be sufficient. Truthfully, she worried that without a healer to cleanse and bind it, the wound might prove fatal before too long.

“We must keep moving.” Fel said.

“Can you stand?” She asked.

“Give me a hand.”

He held up a hand. She eyed him incredulously, then stood, clasped it and pulled. Tired and sore as she was, it felt as productive as trying to move the stair itself. When he added his strength to the effort to heave himself up, she had to brace a foot against the bottom step to avoid being pulled off her feet. He rose to his feet, reeled, and she quickly stepped forward to support him with a shoulder before he could topple back again. He leaned heavily against her, and it took all her strength just to hold him upright.

“Ready?” She gasped once they had steadied themselves.

He was breathing heavily and gave only a brusque nod in reply. Together, they stepped forward, Fel slumped against her shoulder, one arm wrapped about her. They stumbled a couple steps from the stair, both grunting with the effort. They were close enough that she could smell the sour odor of sweat that clung to him, but Zo’Dal was too focused on the arduous task of putting one foot in front of the other to notice or care. In any case, she probably smelled little better.

She was struck with the thought that they must look utterly ridiculous: the large man draped like a cloak on the shoulder of a woman half his size, stumbling like drunks in the dark. She might've smiled at the absurdity of the thought, but Fel lurched suddenly, interrupting her musing. His injured leg gave out beneath his weight, and with a sharp gasp, he collapsed, dragging her down as well. She gave a surprised yelp and landed on top of Fel in a tangled heap.

The fall bruised her pride more than anything, and she quickly, if gracelessly, disentangled herself from her companion in an attempt to recover whatever scraps of her dignity still remained.

“Careful!” She hissed as she got to her feet.

“Likewise.” Fel replied through gritted teeth. Zo’Dal could see the pain etched into his features now, and her irritation evaporated at the sight.

“Perhaps we should rest here and recover our strength.”

“We cannot remain here.” His voice was a pained hiss. He began to rise, trying to pull himself to his feet again.

“Do you expect me to carry you, then?”

“Just help me up.”

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She met his glare for several moments, then sighed.

“Fine,” She said, bending down to give him a hand once more.

This time, Fel hardly made it to his feet before his leg buckled. Expecting as much, Zo’Dal managed to arrest his fall this time, grunting with the strain, and eased him unceremoniously back into a sitting position against the bottom stair. As soon as she released him, she leaned down, resting her hands on her knees in an effort to rest her aching muscles as she caught her breath.

“This isn't going to work.” She panted.

“If you were-”

“If I what?” Zo’Dal’s face flushed hot with anger and she rounded on him, “I’m not the problem, Fel!”

Her voice was far louder than she intended, loud enough that it echoed through the vaulted ceilings of the halls and carried off into the darkness. Immediately realizing her mistake, Zo’Dal almost flinched, but she was too incensed to back down and acknowledge her slip in front of Fel. She glowered at him, waiting for a reply, for the warrior to demand they try again, or somehow push on regardless. But Fel said nothing. He only looked down at the blood-soaked bandage wrapped around his leg and scowled.

After several long moments of silence, Zo’Dal frowned and stood, silently fuming. She crossed to where her dagger had fallen and knelt, taking a moment to wipe its blade clean on the coarse fur of one of the fallen rats, slipped it into her boot once more, and stood. Exhausted as she was, even as insignificant a task as standing again felt like a colossal effort. She went to retrieve her club as well, but upon seeing the state it was in, splintered and slick with blood and foul-looking saliva, decided against it.

When she had also gathered the lantern and Fel’s sword from where they lay, her emotions had begun to cool again. Fel was still looking at his leg, an unreadable expression on his face in place of his typically fierce aspect. That gave Zo’Dal pause. She watched him for several moments, wondering what he might be thinking.

“If you wait here, I can scout ahead again,” She offered when he said nothing, and set down the lantern and sword beside him. “Perhaps I can find something of use, or a place we can safely rest nearby.”

She doubted she would find either, and truthfully, the thought of ranging out alone in this place when she felt as tired as she did was not a welcome one. But, they had few, if any, other options. Though she was loath to admit it, Fel was probably right; they needed to keep moving. To rest in this vast intersection between two great halls would be to invite danger. Zo’Dal glanced at one of the motionless giant rats sprawled nearby. There was no telling how many more, or what other creatures inhabited this place and might stumble upon them, or had heard the sounds of fighting or scented blood, or had heard her outburst. Something might already be coming.

Zo’Dal might retreat to the relative safety of the crematorium, but it would be impossible for Fel to scale the stairs again. As irritating as Fel was, it gave her some comfort to have a capable warrior beside her, and it would be cruel to leave him. That left only one option: they could press forward. Though, even that seemed unlikely now.

Fel shook his head. “No.” His features hardened into a mask of determination. “Let’s try again.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but when he looked up at her and she saw the pain, the turmoil in his eyes, the words died in her throat.

“Please.” He said, his voice low, almost a murmur, as if he had to force the word out.

Zo’Dal wanted to say no, to walk away, to teach him a lesson. He deserved as much. But, she couldn’t bring herself to, not when she saw the look in his eyes. Not for the first time, a part of her wished she was more heartless. It certainly would have saved her a lot of pain and difficulty over the years. She sighed.

“Fine.”

Once more, she positioned herself in front of him and leaned down, offering a hand. She met his eyes, her displeasure clear on her face. He didn't hold her gaze; his eyes lowered to focus on her outstretched hand.

“On three,” She said.

He leaned forward and grasped her arm in a thick hand, his fingers easily clasping around her slender forearm, and gave a tease grunt in acknowledgement. Zo’Dal grasped his arm in return and took a deep breath.

“One-” Zo’Dal braced herself, aware of every aching muscle in her body.

“Two-” She felt Fel’s muscles tense, his grip tightening almost painfully around her arm.

“Three-” They both heaved, hauling Fel to his feet for the third time.

Their momentum and Fel’s weight almost toppled Zo’Dal backwards, and they swayed uneasily before managing to steady themselves. They took several moments to carefully adjust their positioning; Zo’Dal pressed close against Fel’s side and slipped an arm around his waist to support his weight one more. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and leaned heavily against her again. Again, she struggled to hold his weight, but she gritted her teeth and willed herself on through the growing discomfort.

Together, they took a step forward.