Tallah came awake to thunder in her ears, and the razors cutting through her airways. She coughed and sputtered, rolled on her side, and kept coughing until thick phlegm errupted out of her. It was all she could do to keep herself from ejecting whatever sloshed around her innards.

"Well, that didn't happen last time." Sil's mildly annoyed voice sounded as if it came from leagues away, through water. "Hold her down. Keep her mouth open. Watch her tongue."

Strong hands, calloused and rough, grabbed hold of her shoulders as she writhed on something hard and cold and wet. The coughing brought out blood, the taste thick with copper, oily on her tongue. She couldn't breathe and panic rose in her guts.

"Calm,' Christina said, her voice low. 'This will pass. It is not fatal. Strike for calm, Tallah.'

Bloody easy to say when the ghost wasn't the one choking on her own blood. Tallah grasped the feeling and tried to shove it at Christina, just to spread out the misery.

The pain and panic eased off with the suddenness of a bucket of ice-cold water dumped onto her. One moment she was on fire, bleeding in her mouth and lungs, feeling herself slipping away… the next she was fine. She recognized healing at work, though not what kind.

'That really didn't happen last time,' Christina said, her voice an odd mixture of wonder and annoyance. 'They could've consulted us before taking steps to wake you. This isn't what I would've suggested. Some smelling salts and a good kick would've been sufficient.'

Through blinding tears, Tallah finally managed to catch a glimpse of the healer. Sil sat on a rock, and she was carefully dripping wax over the stopper of a small bottle. A drop of something, on the bottom of the bottle, caught the light of a sprite.

Tallah's fits subsided just as suddenly as they'd begun, the ache in her bones dimming, then disappearing entirely. After the initial painful rush, what came next was pure elation, a high that felt terribly wrong for the moment.

She'd been cut in so many places while she'd flown across the ravine, the crows a constant barrage. Fought for an entire day. Barely slept. Hadn't eaten anything since the Anvil. Completely drained her and Christina's illum reserves down to nothing.

It was unnatural in all ways that she'd been spared all the effects of her excess. By all rights, she should've been ruined.

Liosse kept her down when she tried to rise.

"Easy, lass. Lay down and let this one look ye over. Ye gave all o' us a good scare, ye did."

"I'm fine," Tallah protested, but stilled her thrashing altogether. She blinked away the tears and trained a glare on Sil. "You wasted a drop of that on me?!"

Sil barely glanced back as she inspected her work on the bottle. She held it up towards her sprite and waited for the drop inside to coalesce. A single drop of the miracle healing water remained, with the nearest reserve still way out in the Crags, and out of their grasp.

"Much as I would've liked to let you rest, we need you up and about." Sil slit open a rend and thrust the bottle inside once she was satisfied with the quality of her seal. "You can rest when you're dead. We've work to keep doing." There was dried blood on her face, drawn in smudged lines down her lips and chin, already brown in colour.

'Waste of a miracle,' Christina huffed. 'I admit I was somewhat worried over your excesses, but not to this degree.'

Tallah spat a glob of something brown. There was a bitter taste on her tongue accompanied by a deep thirst, and a raking feeling going down her throat.

Grefe's miracle flower water had stripped all pain away, including the deep one that settled in her whenever she forced her channelling past her limits. Now she felt rested and full of vitality, as if the last two days hadn't happened at all. It was absurd how well the thing worked, and how complete its effects. Anna would coo over every detail for days to come.

"She's fine. Give her food and water. She'll probably need both," Sil said as she pushed herself off her own rock. She came and squatted next to Tallah, giving her the most cursory look over. "If it worked the same as before, you should be good as new right now."

"I'm ravenous," Tallah admitted. She stretched and turned where she sat, with Liosse and Sil squatting next to her, watching intently. "Can't remember the last time I felt so rested."

"Back with the spiders would be my guest," Sil said and pushed herself up. "Eat. Drink. See if you can talk some sense into Vergil. I've given up."

Liosse gave her a pat on the back, then easily dragged her up. Murmurs errupted as she rose, voices trying to be quiet, all aimed her way.

"She's awake. Thank the gods."

"Cinder's back with us."

"Make room."

"Get food out. Hurry."

"Hand her my flask. It's untouched."

To call the loose arrangement of human clusters a camp would've been optimistic. Tallah finally looked about and despaired. They'd stopped maybe half-a-league away from the destroyed ravine, still in the mountain pass, down the road headed for Ria.

What she'd mistaken for dusk was actually an overcast sky above, the clouds so thick and dark that they turned day to reluctant night. Soldiers and adventurers stood guard at the far edges of the encampment. Civilians rested where each had laid down their burden and gone to sleep.

There were a lot of people still alive. After they'd escaped the forest she hadn't had time to check on who had survived. She hadn't had the courage to ask Bianca to count, lest she'd succumb to despair after that last, desperate push.

But it seemed like the better part of the survivors were still there, still struggling on, still alive. It raised her spirit and lifted some of the weight off her shoulders.

"How many?" she asked as Liosse stood silent vigil next to her. "How many did we lose?"

Liosse gave a grunt as she mulled over her answer. "In the grand scheme, few. In the immediate, we lost a handful of good men and women. They'll be missed."

"Vilfor?"

Liosse chuckled darkly. "Alive. Armless. A terror to our supply carriers."

Aye, that would be Vilfor, all right. Even reduced to a human's arm count, he would still be upright and making himself useful. Which reminder her. "Where's Vergil?" she asked.

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Before she could specify who she meant, Liosse answered, "That one that be skinnier than ye? Being a nuisance. I've three men making sure he stays put and rests."

Tallah scoffed. That did sound like the boy. What had Sil meant then?

She grabbed the skin of water from a man offering, drank deeply, and followed Liosse among the men and women of the Rock. They reached out their hand to hers, or saluted quietly, or just bowed their heads in deference. It was an odd feeling, and one she wasn't sure how to interpret. Instead, she pushed it away, only barely answering the gratitude with soft words of encouragement.

Her heart leapt up into her throat as she saw the children clustered around a small fire. A whole gaggle of them. Exhausted. Scratched and torn. But there. She didn't know a single name out of them, but the sight of them all eased the dread she was fighting to hold back.

Her plans had only extended up to that moment. From there she'd need to start over, find a way to move forward, keep ahead of the monsters that were surely following.

She remembered the creature Mol'Ach and the vague outline of it still in the forest, unperturbed after her attack, standing in the heat haze as if nothing could touch it. A cold shiver of dread ran down her back, but she did her best to ignore it all. If the creature had wanted them really dead, it would've killed them with ease.

That one had plans. And it didn't need the army of daemons for them, else it wouldn't have thrown it away as it had. Thought she was certain those plans weren't contained in the Cauldron.

Past the children—the healer girl was with them, cutting up rations—there were more such clusters, all looking up gratefully as she passed. Liosse led her around to the edge of the encampment, then up a stony hill flanked by the black trunks of dead trees.

"I'm fine, Arin. Let me help."

She heard Vergil way before she laid eyes on the boy.

There were three soldiers with him, one of which was the child Arin. Vergil was sitting on a rock, loudly arguing with the others. Each time he tried to get to his feet, the two flanking him him right back down.

"You need to rest, Vergil. You've done enough. Please," Arin was saying. He had a hand on his face, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. "Why must I argue with you as with a child? There's nothing to fight just now, and you can't help if you can barely stand on your own two feet."

"Sounds like he's been giving you proper grief," Tallah said as they approached the secluded spot. "Get the lads away to their duties. I'll talk sense into this one."

She also had to talk to Sil, but that could keep for a short while more. That one had unlocked something that should have been impossible. But they'd already seen Erisa perform the impossible back in Grefe. For now, Tallah worried over what state of mind Sil was in, but Vergil was a more immediate concern.

She mulled over the thoughts as she climbed up the side of the mountain pass to where Vergil was being lovingly detained.

"Finally." Vergil raised a fist in triumph. "Thank you, Tallah," he said and jumped to his feet. "Where do you need me."

Tallah pressed a hand to his shoulder and shoved him back down. It was more effort than she'd expected as the boy resisted for a moment, then deflated and sat down.

"You too?" he asked. "I'm fine. I can still help. We need every—"

Tallah rapped him over the metal dome of his horned helmet. Her mask was in her hand.

"Take that off," she said. "And set it aside. We're resting now. Time to be just human for a heartbeat or two."

To emphasise her point, she sat next to him and stretched out her legs. They had a good view of most of the camp from their vantage point. Liosse sent the two soldiers to guard the back trail towards the ravine, while the young one—Arin, she reminded herself—got sent with a kick in the arse towards a small cook fire.

"Your friend's nearly as big a handful as you are," she said.

Vergil reluctantly took off the bent and battered horned helmet and set it between them. He had dark circles around his eyes, his lips were cut, and his nose had taken a hit somewhere. There was dried blood on his upper lip.

To her surprise, he was also growing stubble.

"I need you to explain to me what you did back there," she said, tone kept low and conversational. "Whatever you've learned, Vergil, I need to know."

'About that,' Christina intruded. 'We need to have a better look at his—'

"Not now, Christi," Tallah snapped. "We'll talk later of other plans. Now, I need to understand this." She gave him a side-eyed glance and offered a smile to the lines of weariness showing on his face.

For his part, Vergil looked to be holding back tears. His hand quested out to wrap around a horn on the helmet, but Tallah dragged the piece of armour away.

"I'm sorry I haven't really been paying attention to you, Vergil," she said and found that she meant it. "I hadn't noticed you were going through something. I'd like to change that."

Vergil had proven himself beyond any shadow of a doubt to her. Now, she had to understand what it was that she had in him.

Before she could say something more, Vergil punched himself in the face with enough force that his head whipped back, nose spurting blood.

"Lissen 'ere, ye crone!" The voice that burst from Vergil's throat was not his own, but deeper and heavily accented.

Tallah jumped to her feet and drew in illum to shape into a fireball. Vergil pointed an accusing finger at her.

"None o that shite, ye old goat! I ain't budgin' a bleedin' inch 'til ye hear me out. And ye will listen proper like—me honour bloody well demands it!"

She blinked. Was this… the dwarf?

"Let him go," she growled. "Or else."

"Or else nothin', ye wee chit of a lass." Vergil came to his feet and thrust his chest forward, coming to stand almost face to face with Tallah. "Shut yer yap, and listen to ol' Hammerhead. I ain't going t' a pisspot."

Tallah narrowed her eyes. They were drawing a crowd of gawkers and worried bystanders. Even Liosse had turned about and neared, hand on axe. Tallah gestured her away.

"What do you want?" she growled, fighting down the urge to ignite her lances. Even Christina offered up a soothing calm, her curiosity taking the fore.

"I want ye tae show some respect fer me lad, ye hear?" the Hammer spat at her. "He's gonna spew a whole heap o' bollocks, and ye'll take none o' it, right? We clear, aye?"

Tallah's jaw dropped and she blinked in shocked silence. It took her several heartbeats of staring at the panting boy before she found her voice again. "No. We're not clear," she said. "I don't understand."

Vergil's face contorted into a mask of angry impatience. "He reckons he's worthless. Nae better than scrap. Useless, he says. Fit only tae don me helm, swing a blade and fight and drop dead. Thinks he's nae one at all." Quick as lightning, the boy poked Tallah in the chest with a finger. "An' it's yer bloody responsibility tae set him straight, it is."

"But… I don't think that," Tallah protested, too shocked for words. "How? Why? Let me speak to him."

As if not hearing her, the dwarf ghost continued his ramblings. "All he did, he did by his own damn self, aye? It was his courage that drove him on. His will that kept him swingin'. His grit an' nature that forged the iron in his bones. Me? I just gave him a shove now an' then, maybe booted his arse when he was ready tae quit. Ye get me, crone?" His gaze was electric. It bored into Tallah's eyes and she couldn't look away. "It's. All. Him. An' ye'll show him the respect he's earned, as the man he bloody well is. Are we clear, or do I need tae carve it intae yer skull?" His hand went to the pommel of Vergil's sword, knuckles turning white as he gripped the weapon.

'It might be worth noting,' Christina said with malicious glee, 'that taking the boy over so completely is not exactly a sign of respect. Wiser not to mention this, I believe.'

"Came out just to tell me all this?" Tallah asked, straightening up. She would've never expected this of the dwarf ghost. The old monster's affection for Vergil couldn't have been more heartfelt if it were bleeding. "I've so many questions," she admitted, not even knowing where to start. This was nothing like the episode Sil had described in Grefe.

She had been entirely out of the loop with regards to what was happening to the boy.

"Ask 'im," the Hammer spat. "But I'll have no more pissin' on the lad, ye hear? You drove him hard as stone, an' still he worships the ground ye walk on. So start actin' like ye bloody deserve it."

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