Placing my hands immediately on the seriously injured raptorcat, I channel my magic into her body, following it with my mind. I direct it to the deep wounds that pierce through her body, my earlier efforts having slowed the bleeding, but not stopped it. I pull together flesh, connect blood vessels, and–

My mana runs dry. Inside Bastet’s body, mentally, at least, it feels like I’ve run out of air. Gasping for breath, I’m pulled back into my own body, the sudden return a shock. For a moment, my body feels like an ill-fitting garment. A moment later, the sensation has left me, leaving behind a simple nauseous exhaustion.

“No,” I croak, trying to trigger Lay-on-hands again and again. Nothing happens. The exhaustion is joined by horror as I realise that my closest companion in this world, my friend is dying in front of me and there’s nothing I can do about it until my mana regenerates. I must have used more than I thought to kill the salamander. Even my recent points in Intelligence haven’t helped.

I slump back and stare at her, my eyes tracing the blood being absorbed into the blackened earth beneath. Two minutes is all it will take for me to regenerate enough for a new Lay-on-hands; two minutes is a lifetime – and may be more than Bastet has left. “No,” I whisper again, trying to wrack my brains to find a solution. Anything that can delay the otherwise inevitable is better than nothing. Maybe.

I need to put pressure on the wounds, keep her blood inside her body. Pulling my backpack out of my Inventory, I yank a shirt out, fighting past the lethargy that still tugs at my limbs and the nausea as I move. Leaning over to Bastet, I press the shirt against the puncture marks.

Let me, River rumbles, falling to his knees beside me, his hands full of something. I immediately give him space: I don’t feel any ill intent in the Bond, and he has to know that if he intentionally made the situation worse and killed her, I would kill him for it. Besides, the situation is already dire – what can he do to make it worse, bar slitting her throat?

He piles the contents of his hands into the wounds and tips in a liquid over the top. Pressing the fabric of my shirt to the mess, he swiftly flips her over so she’s lying on that side. The wounds on her other side start bleeding more freely – the pressure of her body lying on them had been holding them mostly closed, but now there’s nothing to stop the red life-blood from pouring out. I almost intervene, angry at his actions that have caused even more precious fluid to leave her body and reduce her chances even further.

The lizard-man seems to detect something, whether it’s from the connection between us or my body language, and he sends grim reassurance down the Bond. The feeling settles me a little – I sense that he knows what he’s doing and is trying his best to save my friend. Even as he communicates with me, his hands are not idle. He’s doing the same on this side as he did on the other, packing the puncture marks with what look like bits of plant that he withdraws from the strangely-shaped box he’d brought from the village. Once they’re packed tightly, he tips some more of that liquid all over, emptying the container which looks like a large chunk of hollowed out branch. Pulling the sleeves of my now blood-stained shirt through from either side of Bastet, he ties a knot over the wounds.

Done, he slumps. A wave of trepidation and hope crashing through the Bond.

“What did you do?” I ask him, even as I check my mana bar. A sliver has returned; not enough for a Lay-on-hands yet. I’ve become practised at estimating how much the mana bar represents in terms of practical use.

I don’t have the skills my master...my former master, he corrects himself, sadness in his tired voice, has with herbs, but I have learned a few tricks and made sure to bring some supplies from..with me. I also always keep a few essentials on me. He pulls at the woven strip of vines around his waist and suddenly, I realise that what I had imagined to be a decorative belt is more than that. Wound into the body of the belt itself are little hollows, and each holds a little carved chunk of branch with a wooden stopper or a load of shredded plant. However, that’s not where he got the things he packed into Bastet’s wounds from. That was from the box.

The box is oddly shaped, with an oblong boat-like form. It’s something I’d noticed in our escape but didn’t bother looking closely even once the light-level got high enough to do so. Like the cage I was held in, it looks more grown than carved. It has two woven handles on it which River was using to wear it like an oddly-shaped backpack. I’d thought it to be a container of essentials which I’d recommended he bring with us in our escape.

Now, he has it open, the lid looking more like an oval cork than something on hinges, I see how it’s separated into sections, each one filled with dried parts of plants. Flowers, leaves, stems, roots, fruits… I’m frankly amazed at how much he’s managed to pack in there. I have packed in some herbs and poured in an unguent, River continues by explaining. On one of my kind, these herbs help a warrior avoid inflammation of his wounds and reduce blood loss. I am hoping that they will have the same effect on your companion.

“You hope,” I repeat, my voice hard.

Yes, he replies, meeting my gaze without flinching. I have never heard nor seen them used on a creature such as she. Normally, we kill this kind of creature rather than heal them. I concede the point with a grunt, irrationally angry. I want someone to blame for this, but the only ones I can blame are the salamander for giving her such grievous wounds, and myself for putting her in the position where she gained them.

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I watch my mana bar out of the corner of my eye and immediately know when it’s regained enough to cast another Lay-on-hands. Without wasting any time, I place my hands back on my raptorcat and channel healing into her once more. Focusing on dealing with the worst of her wounds first, I soon run out of mana again. Nonetheless, I feel a hint of hope flare in my heart: her condition hasn’t really worsened since I last ran out of mana. It seems like River’s stopgap measures have at least helped her maintain her previous state.

I repeat the process for the next six minutes, not daring to even look away from my desperately injured companion in case I miss the moment that something goes wrong, or that I don’t cast Lay-on-hands the second that it becomes available again.

At some point, I feel a nudge of soft fur against my elbow, and see patterns with my peripheral vision. Lathani’s here. Either River went to get her or she came of her own accord. I dare to look away from Bastet for a second, checking that the three cubs are here too. They are. Returning my gaze to the raptorcat adult, I nonetheless feel the lifting of a weight on my heart. I realise that I was expecting something to happen to the youngest and most vulnerable of our group while we weren’t able to help. Fortunately, for once things seem to have gone our way. It just took Bastet almost dying to get us there.

By the time I’ve cast my fourth Lay-on-hands, I give a sigh of relief. She’s out of the woods. Not literally – we’re still stuck in this damn forest – but the worst of her wounds are on their way to being healed and her condition is not worsening between casts. Bastet was closer to death than she was even when we first met, but finally, she seems to have pulled back from the edge.

I dare to do more than just watch her attentively and take a look around, absently reaching out to stroke Lathani’s head. When I realise what I’m doing, I pause. The head-butt she gives my hand says more than words ever could, so I continue. The motion is soothing, probably for both of us. I look over at River.

“Thank you,” I say, heartfelt. He just dips his head, his expression unreadable.

She fought like a true warrior, he comments finally, his tone faintly admiring.

“She always does,” I respond fondly, reaching out to stroke her leg. It’s cold, her blood being concentrated in her torso so as to keep her vital functions going. I take the opportunity to send more magic into her system, my mana having just about regenerated enough. I look at Lathani. “Were you safe the whole time?”

Of course, she replies, sounding insulted. I agreed to look after the cubs, so I did.

“I’m not questioning your commitment,” I try to soothe her. “It’s just I was worried that something else might have appeared while we were focused on the giant salamander.”

Oh, she replies, her hackles lowering. Then no, nothing appeared. I kept an eye on that hole in the centre, but nothing else came out.

“Good,” I reply, relieved. We’ll probably have to investigate that hole, but not until we’re all healed. I look back at River. “How are your wounds?”

Manageable, he replies stoically. I send skeptical feelings through the Bond and he shrugs, wincing a little. I shall be glad of healing, he admits, but it can wait until your companion is out of danger. I nod. Frankly, I feel the same, my own aches and pains making themselves clearly known by this point, not to mention the painful burns still covering my side. Looking around, I wonder where my newest companion has gone. Not seeing her, I look towards River. He points up. I follow his clawed finger, to find a dot circling around making larger and larger loops.

“What’s she doing?” I mutter, not really intending on speaking aloud.

Scouting, River answers. I look back at him. At least, that’s my guess, he adds. It’s not like I can talk with her, after all.

“Fair,” I admit. I guess that answers the question I’d had earlier – Bastet and River are just that good at reading a combat situation. Silence falls for a while, none of us really having the energy to talk. Well, Lathani probably does, but she’s unusually subdued, just pressing close to me and staring at Bastet. Actually, maybe that’s not surprising – the adult raptorcat has been a carer for her as well over the last few weeks. The other cubs are also subdued, squabbling a bit, but not venturing far away from us. I wonder whether they remember the scent of blood and death and are affected by it as much as the rest of us, even if in a different way.

It feels like we’re in a limbo of some sort, broken only by my regular casts of healing magic and the odd movement. We’re attentive to our surroundings, River more than me, admittedly. Everything is calm, still. It’s a little odd, after so many hours of moving on eggshells, keeping eyes watching in all directions for the next attack. Here, in the ash-choked clearing that the salamander made, next to its huge body, we’re safer than we have been in quite a while. At least, as long as it doesn’t have a mate or children wanting to avenge it.

We all eat and drink, needing the nutrients and fluids. I even succeed in trickling a bit of water into Bastet’s mouth: I’m sure she needs it the most out of all of us, but we’re not going to get meat down her neck until she’s awake enough to chew. I’m out of water now, and almost out of cooked meat. Fortunately, there’s a massive body lying next to us, and the carnivores that make up the majority of the group don’t waste any time in digging in.

“Save me the heart, would you?” I tell River. He acknowledges my request even as he starts digging meat out of the carcass with his sharp claws. Lathani joins him, the cubs too. I stay beside Bastet, keeping the healing going. In between casts, I look around the area, seeing its desolation anew.

The sun is already far on its way towards the horizon – the walk through the forest has taken longer than we wanted, thanks to this detour. Then add in the fight and the healing, and it’s not surprising that we’re only a few hours away from dark. Once more, I have a decision to make: keep going and risk walking through a bunch of killer trees in the dark, or stay here and risk being attacked by something coming up from the hole. Frankly, I’d rather fly out of here like the bird did, but until we all develop wings, that’s not going to work. Like it or not, I’m going to have to choose between bad or worse. But which is bad, and which is worse?