Naamah's Blessing

reached it, there were signs it had been used before, markings etched onto the walls of the cave and ashes from an old campfire. It made the presence of unseen hostiles all the more palpable.
    Still, it was shelter and a level space on which to make camp, and we had little choice but to avail ourselves of it. With some difficulty, we managed to get everyone into the cave, the hale helping the ailing make the ascent.
    “I know what you’re about, Moirin,” Bao said to me as we halfcarried, half dragged Balthasar into the cave. “You don’t imagine I’m letting you go alone into the jungle with that old man, do you?”
    I smiled tiredly at him over the top of Balthasar’s sagging head. “Not for a minute.”
    He eased Balthasar to the cavern floor. “Good.”
    “I wish to Blessed buggering Elua that both of you would listen to reason.” Slumping against the cave wall, Balthasar closed his eerie eyes, his breath rattling in and out of his lungs. “Stop wasting time. I’m dying.” He shivered, wrapping his arms around his knees. “Don’t pretend I’m not. This jungle is killing me. The bad spirits have won. They know I don’t belong here. They’re burning me up from the inside out. Do you really think there’s some magic
tree bark
out there that will cure this?”
    “Actually, I do.” Bao hunkered on his heels before him. “Balthasar, listen to me.”
    The blue-and-yellow eyes cracked open.
    “It’s not bad spirits,” Bao said firmly. “It’s a disease that insects carry. We’ve known about it in Ch’in for four thousand years. My mentor Master Lo would have prescribed
qing hao
to cure you. It would have worked, too. I’ve seen it before.”
    Balthasar tilted his head back, regarding him under his eyelids. “You didn’t see fit to mention this earlier?”
    Bao shrugged. “That herb does not grow here. Until today, I did not know there was another medicine that might prove effective.” Reaching out, he took one of Balthasar’s limp hands in his own. “Try not to die until we find it, huh?”
    Balthasar’s laugh turned quickly to a rasping cough. Closing his eyes once more, he rested his chin on his knees. “I’ll try.”
    Once our company was situated, we set out for the top of the cliff, following a narrow, winding path that forced us to climb with hands and feet, nails digging into the moss-slick rocks, the river dwindling beneath us as we ascended into the jungle heights. Our wiry
pochteca
Eyahue led the way, with Bao and me close behind him. Brice and a handful of others followed us in order to forage for firewood.Behind us, we left Septimus Rousse in charge of the expedition, with Temilotzin to provide whatever guidance he might should we fail to return.
    Atop the cliff, we parted ways.
    Brice de Bretel inclined his head to me. “Good luck, my lady. I will pray for your success.”
    I nodded. “Thank you.”
    Eyahue beckoned, pointing to a faint path. “This way.”
    As soon as we were out of sight of the others, I called the twilight. Safe in its embrace, we followed thin trails forged by hostile inhabitants, many of them doubling back on themselves in an inexplicable fashion. The soft dusk of the twilight made everything dim, frustrating Eyahue.
    “I cannot
see
!” he complained. “I cannot tell one tree from another!”
    “Hush.” Bao pointed. “Moirin?”
    A small flock of ground-fowl rooted in the undergrowth before us. My heart quickened. Unslinging my bow from my shoulder, I nocked an arrow and took aim. I got two shots off before the flock scattered, taking down two plump birds.
    Eyahue smacked his lips. “At least it wasn’t a wasted trip! But if you want me to find you a
cinchona
tree, you’re going to have to let your magic go.”
    Bao and I exchanged a glance. “It’s your decision,” he said.
    I swallowed. “If I concentrate on paying attention every moment, I ought to be able to tell if someone’s coming.”
    “Do it.” Bao glanced at the silvery disk of the sun overhead. “If we don’t find one within two hours, we’ll turn back.”
    Apprehensively, I released the twilight. The world returned in a hot, humid rush of greenery, the sun blazing once more. Bao retrieved the ground-fowl I’d shot, which proved to be a rufous brown with striped tails in the daylight.
    We set out once more, Eyahue poking at trees and muttering to himself. I paid him scant heed. I breathed the Breath of Earth’s Pulseto ground myself and the Breath of Trees