Chapter 155

IT WAS actually Siddell who came to him, hobbling on stick legs but with a sly bit of a smile that made him look amusingly mischievous, nearly youthful. Singrene followed with a wide tray in hand, a sweating pitcher balanced on its center, along with Heofon, who smiled at Wil with a beatific softness that made his skull-like face almost beautiful.

Wil pushed himself up to sit against the pillows and watched them come, peering somewhat blearily from one elated face to another as he accepted a cup of cool, clear water from Heofon and drank deeply. Already it seemed to soothe the slow empty churning of his gut.

"Drink it all, lad," Heofon told him in his craggy voice, and when Wil did, Singrene immediately refilled it from the pitcher.

"Drink as much as you can without upsetting your stomach." Singrene's rolling baritone was somehow muted and gentle. "You lost more blood than you should have survived. Rebuilding and replacing is needed now."