“The first day after leaving that inn, your breath was as shallow as it was in that vision. Your heart was weak. You were pale, faltering. Day two wasn’t much better, but at least you were somewhat conscious enough to drink. Four hours into the third day, I was this close to turning us back, horrified I had taken you farther and farther away from any real help. Then, by the fifth hour, you took a long breath, you looked at me, awake, and I could have gone to my knees in a relief so strong it weighs on me still.”
