“I told you we’re taking him with us!” Tom shouted at the figure cowering before him.

The man was hunched over and holding his torn and filthy coat over his face. He was hiding the bruises he had sustained in his earlier argument with the much larger and stronger Tom. Reka watched events through narrowed eyes. He wished he could claim cleverness for his stealth, but the truth was he could not open his eyes all the way. Every speck of light that made it through burned, and he felt sick.

“But he’s not even the one we want,” the man mumbled. “Let’s just kill him and go.”

“I say who we kill and who we keep alive, Toad,” Tom said harshly. “Your job is to do what I say when I say it. Or maybe you want to go back to the Gorge and explain to him how you’re qualified to be the leader?”

Reka didn’t know if Toad was an insult or the man’s name, but it fit nonetheless. He squatted comfortably, and when he moved, it was with a definite hop. He also made a sort of chuffing noise when he spoke. That is where the similarities ended, though. Where a toad was full-bodied to the point of being fat, Toad was emaciated, and wherever his body was visible through his rags, he looked like a flesh-colored skeleton.

“No need for that, Tom,” he whined. “You’re the boss, no denyin’ that. I’m just saying if we kill him, we can take his stuff is all. Master don’t need to know nothing about it.”

Reka started at his words and tried to feel for his pouches. He was bound at the wrists and ankles, and it made his movements awkward. His hands only had to travel a few inches to reach his waist, though, and he was alarmed to find his pouches were missing. He was also alarmed that his arms felt like they were on fire. He let out an involuntary gasp. The sound got Tom’s attention, and he turned on him.

“So!” He shouted. “Playing the possum, eh? Well, I’ll teach you better!”

He picked up a small sack and lashed out. Whatever was in the bag wasn’t hard, but it was heavy, and it struck him in the left arm. The pain was terrible, but Tom kept throttling him. He slumped to his side screaming. Each strike was unbearable agony, and each scream made his head hurt worse still. When the blows ceased, he lay on his side, whimpering. There was warm liquid running down his arms and legs, which didn’t make sense. As he was trying to process how he had been cut, the smell hit him. Without warning, he wretched. Tom jumped back, waving his hand in front of his nose.

“Holy shit!” He choked. “You smell like a three-day-old corpse. You didn’t get into the thorn trees, did ya?”

Reka had no response other than to moan piteously. His whole world was pain, and he had room in his mind for only one thought. How had he let himself come to this? One moment he was on the verge of a great discovery, the next, he was lying in his own vomit. All that talk of being disciplined to Mika, and he had let himself draw too much magic.

“Toad!” Tom shouted. “Get the herbs. If we don’t do something, we’ll be delivering a corpse.”

Toad hopped off to obey, and Tom pulled Reka roughly to a sitting position again. He realized he was sitting against the trunk of a tree and leaned on it gratefully. He didn’t think he could feel more pain, but as Tom tore at his clothes, he groaned. Tom unfastened his coat and pulled it roughly down. It stopped where his hands were bound, revealing angry red pustules along the whole length of his arm. Several of them had ruptured, and a thick yellow liquid was flowing freely from them.

“You’re lucky we came along,” Tom chided. “You’d probably be dead in a day or two. Thorn trees ain't something you wanna mess with. Of course,” he added, “Maybe better dead in the swamp than alive in the Gorge.”

Toad arrived with a small wrapped cloth and set it down next to Tom. As soon as he did, he hopped quickly out of Tom’s reach. It was a good move because Tom’s nonchalant backhand missed him by inches. Reka watched as Tom gently unwrapped the cloth. There were several large dried leaves inside, and Tom plucked one out.

“Toad,” He shouted again. “What good does this do me if I don’t have any water?”

Toad looked nervously at his leader. It was plain that he didn’t want to come within reach again. The idea of disobeying was obviously even more frightening because he snatched the water pot from the fire and walked it over to Tom.

“Set it there. And don’t you dare spill it.” Tom said.

Toad carefully placed the pot on the ground. He tried to hop away again but was too slow this time. Tom had grabbed his sack and landed a vicious blow to the side of Toad’s face. He reeled back and shot a murderous look at Tom before scurrying away.

“I’m afraid all we got is Allheal,” Tom said. “Not a very strong herb, so we’ll have to apply it inside the wound.”

He crumbled the leaf into the steaming water and swirled it around a few times. Once he was satisfied with the mixture, he drew out a small knife. Reka was too dazed and in too much pain to protest. He didn’t even flinch when Tom thrust the knife into one of the pustules. He was expecting more pain, but the release of pressure was actually a relief. Until Tom poured the scalding water into the wound, that is. The water was short of boiling, but he let out another scream as it seared his flesh. The cry, in turn, made his head hurt. Where the liquid came in contact with the puss, it foamed and smoked, and after a short time, the pain subsided. If only the pain in his head would be kind enough to do the same.

“We’re going to have to go through that many more times before we’re done,” Tom said. “Now, I’m gonna have to cut those ropes so we can get all your clothes off. If you try to resist, I’m not gonna stop you, I’m just not gonna keep going, understand?”

Reka could not speak, so he nodded, and Tom used the knife to cut his bonds. It took a very long time for him to finish his work and, though the pain caused by the hot water was severe, when it was over, he felt a lot better. Tom wrapped the newly opened wounds in some almost clean cloth ripped from the protesting Toad’s blanket and helped him put his clothes back on. The ropes were tied back around his wrists and legs, and Tom stalked away. Reka leaned his head on the tree and closed his eyes. It wasn’t long before the bliss of sleep overtook him.

Reka was relieved to find when he woke, the daylight was gone. He managed to open his eyes fully without his head exploding into agony. The pain was still there, but it was much subdued. Tom and Toad were talking by the fire like two old friends, and the smell of cooking filled the air. His empty stomach gurgled, and his mouth watered. His throat was dry and raw from his earlier screaming, but he found he could speak again.

“Water,” he moaned. “I need some water.”

The two men ignored him and kept up their conversation. It was plain they had no idea what they were dealing with. They had his stones, but they couldn’t take his magic. He focused on the fire and gathered as much energy as he could. It had been a long time since he had done magic unaided, a fact he now regretted. It took much longer than he would have thought before he felt he had enough energy to do what he wanted. When the buildup was sufficient, he let it loose. Instead of the violent explosion, he was expecting, the world went black. His entire body convulsed, and he fell over, screaming once more.

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He lay on the ground, thrashing. In his weakened mental state, he must not have focused the energy properly, and it had backlashed on him. The only thing that saved him was the relative weakness of the spell he was attempting. The convulsions faded into shudders, then into stillness. Tom was walking carefully toward him, but when the seizure stopped, he went back to the fire.

“Please,” Reka managed, “I need water.”

He had to bide his time. Once he recovered, he would incinerate these two men.

“Better give it to him,” Tom said.

Toad filled a large cup from a water bladder and brought it to him. He set it on the ground and, just as though it was Tom, he was near, hopped quickly away. Reka drank greedily from the cup, draining in one long gulp. It felt terrific sliding down his throat. When he finished drinking, Toad came and took the cup. He refilled it and brought it back with a small plate of food. It wasn’t the fanciest meal he had ever seen, but Reka ate and drank happily.

“Better rest while you can,” Tom said without looking at him. “We leave in the morning with or without you.”

There seemed to be no appropriate response, so Reka simply continued eating.

He woke well before dawn. The intense pain had returned, and he sat up, clutching his head. His muscles ached, and despite the short respite after the treatment, his wounds were on fire again. If he died because of a few scratches and a lot of stupidity, he was going to be very upset. Actually, he thought, he would just be dead. No more time to be angry. That thought cleared some of the fog from his mind. He very much wanted to be angry, and he knew exactly where he wanted that anger directed.

He was still bound, but he wriggled enough to expose the upper part of his right arm. The makeshift bandage has slipped away from one of the wounds, and he craned his head to get a look at it. It didn’t look any worse. He lay down and scooted around, dragging his coat across the ground until it covered him once more.

When he was once again protected from the frigid air, he scanned the ground for something he could use. There was a depressingly short supply of hope to be found there. He leaned back against the tree and tried to shift his weight to a more comfortable position. Something pressed painfully into his rump, and a jolt of satisfaction ran through him. He squirmed and wriggled but finally was able to reposition himself so that he could see what he had sat on.

Sitting on the ground between his legs was a small stone. It wasn’t anything special, just a piece of plain rock, but it looked like the most beautiful thing in the world. He remembered the words of his father; “Great things always start with small things.” He leaned forward and clutched it in both hands. This was the beginning of the end for his hosts, and they slept on in complete ignorance.

He closed his eyes and began to sing softly. In his condition, there was little he could do beyond storing a little energy in the stone. It would be some time before he could hope to use it, but he would stash it away, and when the time was right, he would unleash it on his unsuspecting captors.

The process was slow. Reka could feel the energy seeping from him into the stone. It was an agonizing battle to keep the flow at a trickle so as not to induce another fit. His concentration was broken by Toad’s simpering voice.

“He’s awake, Tom,” He said.

Reka opened his eyes. How long had he been singing? The sun was entirely over the horizon now. The light still burned his eyes, and he squinted to block the worst of it. He hadn’t gotten much into the stone, but it would be enough when the time came. Toad sifted through a pack and pulled from it dried rations.

“He’s in a good mood today,” he said. “Been singing all morning.”

Toad handed Tod a large handful of the dried food, and he took a large bite.

“That’ll change,” he said, swallowing hard. “I never met a happy mule.”

The comment dispelled some of Reka’s newfound resolve. If he was forced to labor throughout the day, it would take a great deal longer to recover, if he ever did. He had to get back to Mika and to the swamp. The order of those thoughts shocked him. When had the girl become more important than his mission? He had vowed not to let anyone else in after the debacle with Alexis. Yet this unassuming girl had slithered past all of his defenses, and he hadn’t even seen it coming. Tom had said their destination was the Gorge. That could only mean King’s Gorge. If they were taking him there, it could only mean that it was occupied once more. Reka had a suspicion as to who its new tenant was, and it wasn’t good.

Toad brought him his meal and scurried away. Reka was tempted to try to cut and run at the first opportunity. Unfortunately, there was something here more important than even his life. He had to get his most precious possession back before he left. He was going to have to see this to the end, regardless of how long it took.

When Tom finished eating, he jumped up and moved to the edge of the camp. Reka’s limited field of vision had prevented him from seeing the whole area the night before, and he followed Tom with his eyes. He saw the wondrous chest he had pulled from the earth sitting on a makeshift litter. Tom was arranging ropes into a harness, and the mule comment suddenly made a lot more sense.

Toad came over with an armful of their other supplies and dropped them next to the chest.

“Don’t just drop em, idiot,” Tom shouted.

“Sorry, Tom,” Toad stammered, “I’ll make it right.”

Toad’s mannerisms reminded Reka of an abused dog. He wondered if he would ever get the courage to bite. Without waiting to be asked, Reka got to his feet. Being bound made it a difficult task. It was made more difficult by his protesting body. For a moment, he wavered on the verge of falling down. He shuffled slowly to the litter and held out his hands.

“I can’t drag the stuff if I’m bound.” He said. He would play the good captive for now.

“No, I guess you can’t,” Tom mused. “Just make sure that’s all you do.”

As soon as the ropes were removed, he picked up the harness.

“Lead on.”

The ropes dug into his shoulders as he dragged the supplies across the uneven ground. It would have been miserable work when he was healthy, now it was excruciating. As he walked, he thought about the satisfaction of seeing these men burn. What was once a small part of his character now seemed to dominate his being. The thought made him think of Alexis. He remembered his words at their last parting.

“Being forced to kill doesn’t make you a killer, choosing to kill does. You are a killer.”

He had said it years ago, at a time when he thought he was the embodiment of morality. Many times he had regretted those words, but he was too prideful to take them back. How Alexis would laugh at him now. What he was thinking was far worse than anything she could dream of. He was planning to kill two men, not for justice, but because they had dared assault him. It wasn’t idle thinking either. He knew that if the opportunity arose, these two men would die at his hands. He stumbled, and it had nothing to do with his burden or his pain.

The day passed slowly and, despite Tom’s urging, he had to stop many times to rest. At one point, Toad was forced to take the harness just to keep them moving. He did it reluctantly, and with his usual whining, but he did it. Reka noticed the look of murderous hate on Toad’s face again. When that man finally lost control, it wasn’t going to be pleasant. Tom seemed oblivious, though, and he took delight in never taking a turn at the litter.

When Tom called a halt for the day, Reka collapsed where he stopped. He had started the day in misery. Now all there was numbness. He could no longer feel the pain in his limbs, and the pain in his head seemed like an old acquaintance. He wanted to pass out, but his body had other plans. He lay there, knowing the night held no promise of rest for him.

There was a loud cry from Toad. Tom must have landed another blow because he was laughing.

“Dammit Toad, don’t just stand there! Get the food!” He sneered.

Toad rifled through the supplies and came away with the dried, tasteless rations that had been breakfast and lunch. As he walked away, he dropped a little on the ground in front of Reka. Eating almost seemed like more work than it was worth. He forced himself to sit up and eat. Toad came back a moment later with his cup of water. It tasted leathery and stale, which complimented the food perfectly.

The stone he had felt heavy in his pocket. He wasn’t going to get a chance to use it, he thought. At this pace, it was a race to see what would kill him first, the work, or the wounds. Reka had experienced low times in his life, but he had never contended with this level of despair before. He wanted to curse himself for being weak, but what would be the point.