Beldren woke the next day to a chunk of bread and dried meat. He ate so fast that he retched the food back up. A second meal appeared near dark. This time, though his body screamed for speed, he kept control and chewed and swallowed slowly. When the sisters returned he endured another round of feeding, and another visit from Ismene's mental prodding.
With each day and each meal, Beldren's mind grew clearer, but the nightly blood loss kept him physically weak and too exhausted to fight. The air grew chillier. He smelled autumn on the wind. He didn't know how long he'd been there, but thoughts of escape had long fled. He thought only of staying alive for another hour, another day, as though something wondrous might happen if he could only last that little longer.
The infection started in
