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I couldn’t remember. I could only remember those who’d died.

Footsteps echoed in the passage. Bion appeared, his face uncharacteristically grim. Eryx rushed past him and knelt on Damon’s other side. His serpents arched toward the injured man.

“What has he inhaled?” Eryx asked, with none of the panic I was struggling to conceal.

“A life-consuming spore,” I answered. “It came from inside a tree. I haven’t given him any magic.”

Eryx slid a hand beneath Damon’s open tunic. Kallisto lunged forward and caught his wrist. “Don’t touch him! Your magic will kill him.”

“I’m examining him,” Eryx replied. He pulled free with ease. “There’s medicine downstairs that may help. Now move, or he dies.” Over his shoulder, he called out, “Bion, open the treatment room.”

The satyr was already moving. Damon tried to speak, but another cough folded him against me. When he lifted his head, there was blood on his lip.

“Let go of my wrist, Damon,” I urged. I hated asking him to release the one thing he’d managed to hold on to. “We’re going to move you. I’ll stay with you.”

His fingers opened reluctantly. Eryx gathered him up, supporting his shoulders, and followed Bion. I stayed close enough to hear every breath. Kallisto hurried beside me, still clutching a fold of Damon’s tunic.

At the bottom of a short flight of steps, Bion opened a door. The smell of herbs drifted out to meet us, potent and soothing. It was the last thing I would have expected from Eryx.

A broad stone table stood under shelves of bottles. Instruments lay on folded linen. Eryx carried Damon straight to the table and directed Bion to put a rolled blanket beneath his shoulders.

“Thalia, keep him steady while I prepare.”

I obeyed, stepping in to support him. His breath came hot and damp through my sleeve. Eryx rushed to the shelves and selected a bottle without searching. The liquid inside glowed, flickers of silver-blue that reminded me of the asphodels outside.

“What is it?” I asked. I’d never seen such medicine before.

“A draught to stop the poison. It’ll work, but only for a little while.”

Damon turned his face away when Eryx offered the bottle. His eyes found me with something akin to despair. “Let him help you,” I urged. “I’m right here.”

Damon slumped against me and nodded. He didn’t even have the strength to keep resisting Eryx, not anymore.

“Drink slowly,” Eryx instructed. “It will be bitter. Take breaks as you need them.”

His unshakeable calm anchored me. Together, we waited as Damon struggled through the first swallow. The next went down more easily. The dark line nearest his throat stopped advancing.

I followed it beneath the skin. The fever remained, and his heart still struggled, but the thing feeding on him had gone dormant. His own life energy moved underneath it.

Alive. He was still alive. The parasite had lost its strength. I could begin the working.

“Begin, Thalia,” Eryx told me. “It should be safe for you now.”

I didn’t need to be told twice. “Kallisto, bring the water basin close. Eryx, help me turn him when I tell you.”

The instructions came easily. There was something I could do, and I wasn’t going to waste my time staring at the man who’d made it possible.

I placed both hands against Damon’s chest and drew on the current. I guided it carefully, taking my time. Life magic was wild by nature, and I couldn’t afford a single mistake now. I couldn’t forget what I’d been taught simply because he’d swallowed the medicine. If the spore stirred, I would have to stop before I gave it enough strength to spread again.

The parasite remained inactive. I reached deeper, into the places where the poison lay caught among the injured tissue. Its stillness made it distinct from the life struggling around it. I could separate them.

Slowly, carefully, I worked the spore out of his flesh. I drew the scattered traces together, guiding them toward his throat. I was so close to pulling it free.

Damon coughed before I was ready. “Turn him!” I ordered, holding the current steady as his body strained beneath my hands.

Eryx turned him over the basin. A thick, dark clot struck the metal, and Kallisto cried out. Damon tried to pull away, clawing at the edge of the table.

“I’m holding you,” Eryx assured him. “Let it come. You won’t fall.”