Five out of six people in this group were bleeding, unconscious, or carrying someone who was. Sterling was the sixth and the only reason the other five were still moving.
His blade found three fae in the undergrowth in under ten seconds. "Clear."
They continued for a few miles. The only sounds were boots, breathing, and Damon's occasional cough, each one producing more blood than the last.
"She needs water." Maddox glanced over his shoulder at Damon. "So does he."
"Yeah." Kael didn't slow down. "If either of them drink the water in this jungle without boiling it, they're dead. Our fire is dead. Do the math."
Nicholas spoke from behind them. "Her flame works."
Kael stopped walking. He turned his head, looking at Nicholas over his shoulder with the expression of a man who had just been told something useful by a source he found deeply irritating.
"Noted. Her flame is still a screaming, glowing, golden dinner bell." His tone was flat. "And we have nothing to boil it in."
