The horse had been ridden to the point of exhaustion and probably beyond as Feivel pushed it, onward and onward and onward, following the road until finally some vestige of civilization was visible on the horizon.

"Hang on, Janice," he breathed in her ear, but for all he knew, she could already well be dead.

Kendra flew behind them, keeping pace as best she could, but seeming very tired indeed. It was already well passed dark, and they wouldn't be riding if it weren't an emergency. As it was, if the poison didn't kill her, the cold very well might.

Steam flew up from the horse's back, its sweat mixing with Feivel's own and the water from the river. Janice was at least dry by now, or nearly, and he plowed through the night towards the only town he could find within riding distance.

He plowed through the streets, shouting at the top of his lungs. "HELP! SOMEBODY! I NEED A HEALER! PLEASE!" The horse danced beneath him, feeding off his own panic, giving it life even as it teetered near death.

No lights came on. No one opened their doors. There was no sign that anyone had heard him, and he staggered off the back of the paint, sliding Janice down after him. He whistled the horse away, hoping it would recover. It was a good, hardy horse. He wished it no ill will.

~Feivel!~ Kendra chirped at a noise, and Feivel turned, staring into the darkness.

There was someone, about the size of a child, but no child could possibly be roaming the streets after dark. Yet it was a child's voice that greeted him, and Feivel only just realized that the yank had again left him.

Was it too late? Had the ride taken too long? He couldn't feel her moving, couldn't hear her whispering in his arms. He couldn't... he couldn't...

"I said 'do you need a healer?'" the child's voice repeated.

"Yes," he managed, more a sob than an affirmation. "Please. You have to help her."

The child, for that was what she was, hurried over and inspected Janice's wrist, then her face, laying small, pudgy fingers on her cold body. "This way," she said. "And hurry!"

"Come on, rat," Feivel managed as he hurried after the girl.

~Will they fix her?~ Kendra asked, worried tones shaking her usually steady and playful voice to pieces.

"I can only hope," Feivel admitted as he ran as fast as he could with Janice draped loosely in his arms.

Marley staggered down from her bedroom and opened the lock on her door. "I'm going to start charging a fee for anyone who knocks after ten," she snarled.

But Thedis was there, staring up at her with huge doe eyes. And behind her was a man who looked as though he'd been riding from death for the last ten years. And in his arms he cradled a woman who did not look nearly so lucky.

"We're closed," she said firmly.

"Open back up, or by my Lady, deaf and dark and silent, I will slit you gut to gizzard," he growled, pushing his way inside. "She's been bitten, and I will not lose her. I will not go against the will of my Lady so readily."

Marley stared at him as he stomped inside, reeking of sweat and horses. His clothes were definitely not from around here, nor were hers. And their faces and complexions were so vastly different, that she had to guess they were foreign to each other as well. But he held her so tenderly as he stomped about, her heart went out to him.

"Bit by what?" she asked. Then she turned toward her surgery, leaving Thedis to guide them in.

"Strike me if I know," the man replied, shaking his head enough to let the long blue feathers on his earrings jangle jarringly against the dark russet curls that crowned his lanky frame. He lay her out on the surgery table, and Marley inspected her with calm, confident hands.

"Where'd you find her?"

"We're travelling together. She took a bath in the river, and she screamed. When I got there, she was nearly drowning and not in a good way."

"Just this bite?" she asked, pointing to the set of six teeth marks on the back of her calf.

The man nodded. "The circle's my own doing."

Marley glared at him. "Why?"

"To bind the poison! I don't know if it works or not, but I'd rather take the chance and her die anyway than think that maybe--"

"Yes, yes," Marley said, waving at him dismissively. "Thedis, get me some almmorrach and my mortar and pestle."

As Thedis hurried out of the room, Marley turned towards the stranger. "You. Man. You have to leave now."

"I will not leave her," he said with such conviction in her voice that Marley stared openly.

"What?" she asked.

"I will not leave her."

"You damned well better leave her, because if you don't, then I'm not operating on her."

The stranger pulled a knife on her. "You will fix her," he snarled. "Or we'll see how good a surgeon you really are, what with having to tie up your own entrails."

She glared at him but stood her ground and said nothing. When Thedis hurried in, she snatched the tools without another word and started working quickly.

The entire time she worked, the man kept his knife trained on her. Only when she finished her stitches and her salves and her potions did he sheathe it again.

"Now it's not my will if she lives or dies," Marley told him firmly. "It's up to Fate."

"My Lady, deaf and dark and silent, sent for her. She will not let her die so easily." He bowed his head and pulled up a chair to sit beside her.

Marley stared. More so, she stared at the bite on the woman's leg. It was a Lenra viper that had caused that bite, but they only lived in and around the River Lenra, which was nearly a whole day's travel west of their little garrison town.

By rights, the woman should have been dead, ought to have been dead. And the doggedly faithful man should have been greatly disappointed.

But she yet lived. Tomorrow would be the telling day. But for now, she lived.