“Stop squirming!” Redmun said, or tried to. Layla's arm's choked Redmun's neck, and her legs about his waist were like a vice. She whimpered and cried, tensed and squealed at every move he tried to make. His cramped, stinging hands were barely clinging onto the roots.

Jessa's head appeared over the edge of the rise. She looked even less happy than he was, though she refused to help at all. Redmun didn't need to ask why – their positions in situations like these had been stated too many times to count. Redmun wanted to try and save Layla. Jessa wanted to put her out of her misery and move on. That meant her refusing to help out at all.

Redmun closed his eyes and focused, pushing the pain of his ruined hands out of his mind. A few more feet… He reached for the next useable exposed root all at once, then the next. In just a few seconds Redmun charged up the distance, slipped over the edge, and wrestled Layla off his back.

She fell to the ground with a shriek, clutching at the earth, eyes wide with terror. Redmun took a few minutes to enjoy his open airways. An hour wasted climbing just the first rise. If this continued, they would all die out there. From his bent-over position he gave Jessa a few glares, letting her know his feelings. She didn't care, and he didn't expect her to. It just helped.

“Come on,” he said, lifting Layla up, and set off towards the next tree. He kept hold of her wrist to make sure she kept up, all the while glancing up and behind. As soon as they got too far from the tree, the Mirds, and whatever else was around would know they had no-where to run to, and would recall yesterday's wounds bitterly, but none came. As for the next tree…

“Praise Orth-tet and Sephelia both for you, Master Possessors,” Layla said, not for the first time as they walked. She gasped between words, occasionally stumbling but never quite letting herself be carried. “I care not what the Church says, you Possessors are doing the Gods' work, I feel it.”

“If it makes you feel better, miss,” he said. It certainly didn't make him feel better. The two Far-God's had never done anything for him or his but birth the Church, which was a special hell of its own. If the Gods managed to help the three of them get to Lutmouth, maybe he'd consider thinking they mattered. Otherwise they could go hang.

Layla fell again, but was quick to pick herself back up. It was so pitiful to see the woman struggle so hard, push herself so far, despite how it lagged them behind. She had to live, but if they kept going like this, none of them would. “Please,” he said, taking her hand. “Won't you just let me carry you?”

“No, no,” she muttered, and put on a brave smile. “I'm fine. I can walk. Not too far, as you said, yes?”

Redmun paused. He'd said no such thing. “Yes, Miss Layla. Not too far.”

He could see the mountain under which Lutmouth lay from there, but they wouldn't reach it for two days. More, if Layla continued as she was. The woman's hope might be delusional, but it might just be what was holding her together. Not that Jessa particularly cared – she had always been much more concerned with fighting Evils than actually saving people. That was one of the rare parts where she and Redmun differed, and the scornful rather than pitiful looks she gave Layla were grating on Redmun's temper.

They heard plenty of sounds from atop the next tree, youthful monsters craving for their daily amount of fresh meat, their calls shriller and more ear-piercing than their elders. Those elders circled the tree behind them, either on guard or grandstanding where they could not attack, but they were still too distant to make out. There weren't many, and that wasn't a good sign.

There was a careful tactic to traversing the Plains. Walking the distance between two trees was often completely safe, because of the skirmishes the different species usually made on one-another to take a new tree. No matter how unintelligent the species was, none would survive if they showed the enemy their backs to attack a third party. Other than having a corpse fall on their heads – or certain Evil's blood – there was little danger. But it was best to keep an eye out none-the-less.

The day continued without issue, the distance between them and the next tree steadily shortening. Calm, quiet, and by some miracle they'd make it to shelter before nightfall. Though the sky had become dark, Redmun had a good idea of what Evils they'd be sleeping under were, and it turned his already strong anxiety into full blown dread. Bloated things, writhing through the air. The technical term was an Echinoderm, but Redmun knew the things as Sky-Stars.

They crept under the long shadow of the tree. Tonight they'd sleep under what might just kill them tomorrow.

"Here, Layla. Eat."

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“Thank you, good sir,” she said, and ate the morsel of flesh in two quick, distinctly unladylike chomps, illuminated by the beginnings of the night's fire. That was the last of their meals. Jessa watched on with her impassive, yet spite-filled eyes. “Will you not be eating as well?” Layla asked.

“We'll be fine. We've little food and you'll die without it.” Jessa hated missing meals, though he supposed she could have hidden away food of her own. Either way, she wasn't happy. Not that it mattered.

“You are both so very, very kind to me…” Her voice began to sound distant, weak.

“Yes,” Redmun murmured in as soft a voice as he could. He removed his jacket again, and folded it below her. He eased her down once more, feeding her some of the little water they had left. “Rest now, Layla. You'll be well in the morning.”

Before he'd even finished speaking, the woman was breathing softly, her lungs cracking with each inhale. She didn't have long. Perhaps not even most of the night.

“Redmun.” Jessa's voice was quiet, but hard. “We need to talk.” She grabbed a stick from the burning pile, and stepped outside. Wanted to berate him, no doubt. Well, there was no running away from Jessa. She'd pin him down and have her say eventually. With one last glance at the sleeping girl, he followed.

They stayed out of the moon's light, not wanting to be spotted. They stopped near the cliff of the basin, Jessa spinning on her heel to face him.

“She's dead, Redmun. I don't see why we're continuing this farce.”

Redmun pursed his lips. The number of times they'd hashed this sort of thing out, and she still didn't understand. “I'd like to at least save someone, Jessa.”

“We aren't going to save her, Redmun. It's a miracle she's still alive. Who knows how long she was drinking that filth? You really think some physiker in Lutmouth's gonna save her? Think we'll even make it? You saw what's above us right now, didn't you? Or has this woman addled your eyes as well as your brains.”

Redmun stepped away a pace, controlling his anger. Why did she insist on doing this again, every time? “Of course I saw them, Jessa! I saw them just fine, and I know how fucked we are right now. That doesn't mean we get to give up trying.”

When he turned back around, he found Jessa standing right in front of him. She grabbed him by the collar, breathing into his face. “Get your head on, Redmun. What happened in Potsdoor was a fluke. We were never going to save the place. Forget it.”

Redmun fought her off, pushing her back. He said nothing. He had nothing to say.

She tried to run, Redmun, the Evil whispered to him. She tried to give up without even trying, just as she is now.

It was a task to restrain the growl that tried to rise up in his throat. Shut your mouth, Evil, he sent back, with as much venom as he could. But, damn it all, the thing was right.

“So, what, we'll just go in and cut her throat then?” Redmun asked.

Jessa just shook her head. He'd never seen her so disappointed. “No, Redmun. But I can't fight of the Sky-Stars all on my own.”

Redmun frowned. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean. You're upset with your Evil. Didn't even try to use its powers when the Mirds came. Let me do all the work!” Redmun cringed at those words. The exact words the Evil had used. He hated how it could do that, predict what others would say, usually just to make him doubt himself. Even though he knew what it had been doing, it was working. “Even with its help we might not make it. Without it, though? Yes! Slit the girl's throat, and our own besides for what it's worth. Stop your whining and choose, Redmun. Save the girl, or spite the Evil. You can't have both.”

She fell silent, but continued her glare, eyes demanding an answer. Redmun paced, muttering to himself. Why did her words have to echo what the thing had said? Damn it, why do both their words have to be exactly what I worry about? Both Jessa and the Evil had a tendency of doing that, but at least, from Jessa, he knew it wasn't some deep, unfathomable manipulation. Jessa was smart, but she was also simple. And damn it, Sky-Stars weren't something to go fighting without an Evil of your own.

He kicked the ground, grabbing his hair. “Damn it,” he muttered, not for the first time. “Fine, Jessa. You're right. I won't… I won't let you fight alone tomorrow.”

Jessa folded her arm, looking down at her feet, suddenly looking uncomfortable. “Thank you, Redmun.”

Yes, Redmun. Thank you.

“You shut your fucking mouth,” Redmun growled. Jessa's head shot up, furious at first, and then puzzled. That had been aloud.

“Redmun, are you sure you're alright?” she asked, coming towards him. “You know it's just trying to mess with you, right?”

“I know,” he said, clenching and unclenching his fist. He felt like sitting down, curling into a ball and crying. He didn't. “It's just…I don't know. It's been fifteen years since I started looking for Gelstadt, and we've seen barely anything of him until a few days ago. It had gotten dull, boring. I was starting to expect never to find him, but…” He paused, giving his feelings a thorough looking over, trying to pinpoint the source of his upset. It took more than a moment. “I never expected he'd be alive. He's been an abomination since before I was born, and that thing has been wearing him all that time. My father, suffocating for twenty-eight years inside that thing. It's worse than I imagined.” And I'm worried it will happen to me. He didn't say that part, nor think it in any part of his mind he thought the Evil might hear. For most of the fifteen years he'd been Possessed, the thing had been near silent, uncaring. But now it was being talkative, and forceful. It terrified him.

Jessa was nodding. “Fair enough,” she said. “But you need to do better. You can't let it get to you. Any of it, alright? We all have our Evils to deal with, and I can't be worrying about yours.”

Redmun sighed. He hadn't really been expecting sympathy from Jessa. That just wasn't part of their relationship. It couldn't be. He nodded.

“Come on, then. If I can't have drink for tomorrow, I'll at least need my beauty sleep. Give those flying jellyfish a pretty death, aye?”

Redmun smiled, for her.