Teri McLaren
even to his home in Argive. No matter how often he moved along, no matter where he dug next, they always found him, but up until now, he had always seen them coming. Javin was a careful man, but this particular dig had been too much of a distraction.
Muni moved back across the tent to his friend, who was murmuring in his sleep. He brought an earthenware cup to the fevered man's mouth, forcing the tepid water past his swollen lips, javin coughed a bit, and his eyes opened.
"I thank you. May your house be washed away in a flood of blessings." He grinned, choking again on the water.
"Be still, my friend." Muni poured some of the water onto a cloth and dabbed it to Javin's burning head. "Cheyne will soon bring the physician, and you will feel much better. Yes, you will live this time."
He found Javin's right hand, checked his pulse, relieved that it was strong. As he leaned over to place the archaeologist's hand back upon his chest, Muni also discovered the sting site: Javin's other hand lay by his side, the fingers swelled to three times their normal size, a small whitened whelp around a prick of dark blood on his ring finger. The wound appeared to be several hours old and looked horribly painful. Muni had seen a similar case before, when he had worked among the Fallaji mages-the poison would come and go, the wound would heal and fester, weakening the person until, eventually, it would sap their strength to the point that there was no more healing. Gangrene followed rapidly.
"You can recover, my friend. But listen to me, Javin: we will have to remove the finger, else the poison will spread. I'll bring more water for the fever. Just rest," he whispered.
"No, Muni, I will be all right. Already, I am feeling better. There is no need to take the finger. And I must tell you… what I saw in the dreams… The man with no face. The Raptor. I could not move; I was