I followed Kyria Rhaptis's gaze to the door as it banged open and slammed into the wall. Dorian filled the threshold, his scowl darkening when he saw us.

"What are you doing here?" Before I could respond, he pointed to Kyria Rhaptis. "And you, I told you to stay out of his business."

The old lady just shrugged. "He came to me. He needed some help."

"Why—" He cut himself off when he saw the table where my white coat, sweater, and scrubs lay, still not repaired. "By the gods, what happened?"

I looked between Kyria Rhaptis and Dorian. The old lady kept her mouth shut, eyes twinkling. Next time, I'll have to negotiate an assist. "Well, that's a bit of a story."

He frowned. "She was supposed to keep you safe."

"She did keep me safe." I gestured to myself. "Look, I'm in one piece."

That accomplished the opposite of my intended effect, but Kyria Rhaptis finally came to my aid. "Brat, it seems like you and this young man have some things to talk about, and that's best done outside of my workshop." The air pulsed, and I worked hard not to roll my eyes. Dorian showed no such compunction at her predictable display of magical force, but he didn't argue either.

"Let's go, Daniel."

My eyes darted to my coat and scrubs, but the old woman beat me to my question. "Two days."

"Thank you very much."

Dorian hadn't waited, half-walking, half-stomping back toward the open door. I hurried after him, trying to gauge just how pissed he was. Just as I hit the doorway, a whisper—the old woman's voice—crept into my ear. "Don't forget your promise. A bit of your Mark for the repairs and before we leave this camp, I expect to see you here next week and every week after with a guest in tow."

I grabbed the door handle, looking back at the [Tailor]. She was looking down at my white coat, but she could hear me from here. "I haven't forgotten our deal," I muttered, shutting the door and almost running into Dorian, who had stopped a few feet away.

"Forget what?" Dorian asked.

Just how much do I tell him?

***

Everything.

I didn't hold anything back about the fight. I had learned my lesson already. He was a friend that I would have been lucky to have on Earth. Here, he was a godsend. No one came in that angry unless they cared.

I did, however, start at the beginning. I had barely gotten to the fight with the raptors when we reached my longhouse. Before I could go into detail, Dorian said, "You know, I think you're right. I'm not sure I want to—"

"Know what?" came a deep voice from behind me.

I spun around to find Rægnor. "How do you keep surprising me?"

Dorian answered for him. "He's not using any skills. Just pure technique." He smirked. "Also, you get lazy about watching your surroundings."

Rægnor nodded in agreement before asking, "What did the Oresian not want to hear about?"

"Daniel was about to tell me about his excursions," Dorian explained. "Turns out he and the apprentice [Healer] faced quite a few raptors and wolves."

Rægnor grew thoughtful. "What tier were they?"

"I don't know the tier, but there was a matriarch and an alpha."

Rægnor looked me over appraisingly. "You have fared well for that. Did you put any down?"

Dorian held his hands up. "Wait a moment. That's the question you ask? Not if he got hurt?"

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"He obviously got hurt. He is not wearing his normal attire, and he just left a [Tailor]. Both imply damage. And I would expect nothing less against enemies like that. He struggled. He got hurt. But he had the Vísir's apprentice with him. He survived, and he walks. He must be whole." Rægnor's expression remained neutral. "The only thing I do not know is how he fared in the battle."

My esteem for the young Ættar rose with his deduction, though Dorian didn't see things the same way. So I cleared my throat. "I probably put down two and a half. The last one was a team effort. The [Pathfinders] swooped in at the end to help out."

"A good battle then. You should be proud to have taken those down at your level."

Warmth spread over my face. "I mean, she called me reckless, and I wouldn't have survived without her. Literally."

"Of course. That is why we have [Healers]. But you earned those kills."

"You cannot be encouraging him," Dorian interjected. "It's dangerous out there."

"It is," Rægnor agreed, "but he went with a [Healer]. I am more concerned about how he got here."

I frowned. "I walked?"

"By yourself?"

"No." I gestured to Dorian. "I've been with him."

Rægnor's eyes narrowed. "The entire time?"

"No? I wasn't by myself, if that is what you are worried about. I was with Kyria Rhaptis."

"The young apprentice left you there?" Rægnor asked.

I studied Rægnor's expressions and then Dorian's, who seemed to instantly understand Rægnor's concern, in an attempt to understand the issue. "Yes?"

"When I specifically warned you about the Volki."

I frowned. "I was with an [Arc—I don't think anyone is foolish enough to mess with her."

"No," Rægnor agreed. "But I have heard she doesn't like visitors. If she had tossed you out?"

I sucked air between my teeth. "Right. I forgot." Which, based on both of their expressions, was the wrong answer. "Hey, I wasn't given a choice."

Rægnor's tone grew serious. "It is hard to disobey a direct order from a [Shaman]'s apprentice. I will make the situation clear. If I need to meet her, I will make that arrangement."

"This seems like overkill," I protested.

"It isn't," Dorian replied.

"Come on. We are in the camp," I countered.

Rægnor and Dorian exchanged looks as they started to provide a simultaneous rebuttal. Rægnor gestured for Dorian to continue. "Daniel, you have an unfortunate tendency to underestimate the risks. Volki don't let slights go." He paused a second, and I couldn't help but grimace at the unspoken implication. It still stung that I had kept him in the dark. "The more protection, the better."

"The Oresian is correct," Rægnor added. "And to be clear, you did more than draw ire. You shamed him in front of his lessers. He needs to make an example of you—more so than before."

Dorian shot me a questioning look, and I sighed. "I will tell you all the details about that, too."

"Good. You can do it on our way to get food."

Once again, I started at the beginning. I explained my encounters with the Volki, this time in more than a cursory overview. Still, I abbreviated some of the abuse; the memories hurt too much to do otherwise. However, I remained detailed enough that Dorian let loose colorful expletives throughout my retelling. Each one made me wince. Saying it out loud cast the danger in a new light.

If I hadn't earned Eiræk's favor…

The conversation died down as we neared the Commons. I finished my retelling before we reached the line. Rægnor broke off, and Dorian gestured me to follow him. The line had already thinned, but with Dorian, we didn't wait.

We threaded our way through the Commons. Staccato coughs filled the great hall, but I couldn't spare the time to look. Dorian never slowed as he weaved through clusters of people and tables. I hadn't thought much about being seen with him, but a nagging itch between my shoulder blades told me I should've. Even though I hadn't caught anyone staring, I was garnering some attention.

We ended up in line with other Oresiani, which, not surprisingly, earned us a few looks and, more surprisingly, a few waves—though likely directed to Dorian instead of me. We shuffled forward until Dorian and I stopped across from a familiar young woman.

The cute, button-nosed Oresian's eyes widened at the sight of us, but before she could say anything, Dorian gestured toward me. "Thalia, can I get a plate for my friend, Daniel? He's the person I've—"

Dorian somehow had stepped in it because the hint of a smile that played across her lips turned into a deep scowl. "We've met—no thanks to you." She shot him a glare. "How could you let him wander in here alone?"

Dorian faltered. "Uh…well, uh…I am here now."

I couldn't help but smirk—a mistake. She pointed a serving utensil at me. "Don't think I've forgotten how you made me burn [Flawless Recovery] that one time. I needed it later that night. The amount of time I spent cleaning—"

A raspy voice from the back of the line called out. "If you youngsters are done flirting, some of us are hungry."

I cocked an eyebrow, but on the other hand, Thalia's and Dorian's bronze complexions now carried a faint hint of red. Thalia quickly plated food for both of us, not saying another word to Dorian.

Is there something between those two that he hasn't told me?

I tried to keep my expression neutral. For all his bravado regarding women… I would have to tease him about it later.

We accepted our trays and exited the line. We didn't get far before we met Rægnor. We had mentioned eating at my longhouse, but he hadn't made it clear if he would join us. He remedied that. "May I join you?"

I smiled, stealing a quick glance at his plate, then at the line. He had made it through the line way too fast, and his food was…better than mine. A perk from Eiræk? Or am I imagining it? "You don't have to ask."

"I do."

"Then consider yourself invited."

"Thank you," he replied, and we headed out the door, the itch in the middle of my back only growing stronger with every step I took with Dorian and Rægnor next to me.

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