Simon woke, groggily. When he felt the bs beh him, he assumed that he was ba bed. That was expected, though, and he accepted it as the price of aplishing the impossible. He only hoped that it was enough to finally solve the damn volo level. It was only wheried to rise ahe pain shoot through him that he realized that’s not what happened. Somehow, he’d survived the impact, but he’d definitely hurt himself in the fall.

  “No… no, no, no, no…” someone said. A womahought, it was hard to tell in the dark room. “No, Mister Simon, you ’t move… you ’t, you’re hurt too bad for that.”

  It was a woman. Someoherly, perhaps twice his age. He thought she looked familiar, but he wasn’t pletely sure. He’d treated so many people in… whatever city he was in, and his mind wasn’t w so well just now.

  “What…” he rasped through parched lips.

  “No, you just… you y there,” she said, pushing him gently but firmly bato the mattress. “And I will fetch the healer.”

  But I am the healer, Simon thought to himself. He might have ughed then, but it would have hurt too bad, and he cked the energy to try. Something was definitely hurt badly, though. He couldn’t feel his toes, and when the woman hurried off, he tried to reach fss of water he'd seen on the nearby table. That was when he found out his hands were swaddled in bandages so pletely that he might as well have been tied up.

  The attempt at motion made his body light up with pain in a dozen pces again. He wasn’t going anywhere, and until he recuperated a bit more, he wasn’t even sure he could speak a minor word of healing. Even that insignifit effort would be too much. Instead, he y there, trying to analyze his situation.

  His body was in bad shape. He may or may not be paralyzed from the waist down, and from the taste of blood in his mouth and the unfortable sensations he felt whehing, he robably bleeding internally. All that ar for the course when falling from a great height, so none of that surprised him.

  What surprised him was his surroundings. He wasn’t in his as he’d first thought, but he wasn’t in his home in Ioher. Thanks to the pu smell of herbs, he would have been able to tell that, even in the dim light. He was somewhere haher of those pces. The soft bed beh him and the faint smell of inse marked it as either the pace or else a very nie somewhere in the upper city.

  That meant he wasn’t a prisoner, of course, officially at least. He might well be one ohey’d gotten him healthy enough to execute, but he really couldn’t say for certain. He had no idea what anyone saw or what they might have noticed when they found him. It ossible that his armor had been so damaged that his runes might not have…

  Where is my armor? He thought with a start as he looked down. He wasn’t sure if he was naked or if there were clothes beh some of these bandages and bs. He supposed that it didn’t really matter, but he would have liked to see his injuries.

  A few mier, the woman who had been minding him returned with a man whom Simnized, even if he couldn’t remember his name. He was the pace doctor. That answers one question, at least, Simon thought, leaning a little closer to the idea that he robably under arrest, just not officially yet.

  “Ah, he is awake!” the doctor beamed. “This is good news! How are you feeling? Do you remember who you are? Do you know where you are?”

  The first time Simon tried to speak, he caused a coughing fit that would have doubled him over in pain if he was capable of doubling over at this moment. Instead, he y there miserably until they subsided, theried again, but quieter. “Water…” he moaned.

  “Ah, yes, of course!” the doctor said, gesturing for the woman to hahat. The man struck Simon as more proud of whatever he’d doo save his patient than grateful the man was alive. He’d seen that type before in the years he’d spent in Abresse. “You’ve been unscious for days, so a thirst is one more indicator of renewed health!”

  “Days?” Simon rasped after his throat and tongue were moistened. His head was still fuzzy, but he wasn’t sure if that was a cussion or simply the sequences of everything else that he was suffering from. “Tell me… what happened…”

  “To you? I’m not sure,” the doctor said. “There were some lurid reports about a stone giant, and I’m told they found you in some armor at the base of Mount Karkosia in rough shape. Your armor was…”

  The man looked like he was about to ugh for a moment, but then he remembered his de. Aopped himself. “Well, I’m not sure what it is you were up to, but even pte mail does precious little against fire, which would expin the burns you have…”

  Frostbite, Simon thought to himself. He wasn’t surprised. At no point did the fire burn him, but the cold was certainly more powerful than he’d expected on the rim of the caldera. He hoped it wasn’t too bad, but there was no way to know until he healed the worst of his hurts and started unraveling his bandages and the way he was feeling, that probably wouldn’t be today. He felt too woozy to summon the focus he o do a proper healing.

  “No, not me…” Simon tried again. “The city… Ionar… the eruption…”

  “Oh, the city is fihe doctor said. “Lava is still p into the sea, I’m told, but these things happen. A few houses burned, but the Queen will handle all of that. I… no, we are much more ed about you, Sir Simon. you tell me what you were doing up there?”

  “I… I don’t remember,” Simon lied. “I barely remember who I am… Don’t even recall why I came to Iht now…”

  “Well, at least you know where you are,” the doctor nodded. “ you tell me how long you’ve been here?”

  “Years? Maybe?” Simon said, uo remember if it had been three or four years at this point. He’d have to check the case notes in his shop to say for sure.

  “Long time.” he sighed. “Healing. Quiet life.”

  “Good, that’s very good,” the doctor said. “I ’t promise that you’ll make a full recovery, but at least your mind is intact, and that ts for something.”

  “How bad?” Simon asked. The room went quiet for several seds then, which was all the answer Simon really needed. It retty bad.

  “Well…” the doctor said finally, “Your injuries are severe. I won’t lie to you about that, but I’m fident that they look worse than they really are, and in a week or perhaps till know much more.”

  A week was too long, though. Simohat. Bohat had been broken were already set wrong. The right time was now, not ter. He didn’t say any of that, though. Instead, he let the doctor lead the versation while he talked about herbs that might help and treatments that could speed recovery. Simon didirely disagree with the suggested course of treatment, but before he could ask questions ue about anything, he drifted back off to sleep once more. Even staying awake was too hard for him in his present state.

  When he woke sometime ter, it was lighter, which meant it was daytime, but probably not the day. The doctor was gone, but the woman was there, doing needlepoint in a chair by his bead. Wheirred, she immediately stirred, but when she went to fetch the dain, he said, “No… I want to ask you… not him…”

  “Ask me what?” she asked, fused. “I’m just a housemaid; I know nothin’ of medie like Doctor Nonth.”

  “Not medie…” Simohed. “The volo… the stone giant…”

  “Oh, well, I don’t know much about that either… I—” she started to say.

  “Servants talk,” he said with just as mue as he dared. “What… do they say?”

  “Well…” she said, looking at him hesitantly. “They say that an a evil woke up in the eruption a fht ago and that someone slew it and saved the city. Acc to some rumors, that hero died, and acc to others, he’s recuperating at the pace even now… But I really ’t say.”

  “I guess you ’t,” Simon said. The two of them exged smiles at the unspoken agreement.

  She gave him water this time, and in the light of day, he could see the heavy splints that had been applied to his numb legs. The woman told him a little mossip now and then. She mentiohat the Queen had tried to visit him twice, but Simon had been unscious both times. He sidered asking her if anyone has seen anyone else that looked like him, but that was too crazy. Holy, just thinking about it again made him feel crazy, but that roblem for ter.

  Later, his nursemaid brought him a thin broth after the doctor checked in on him again, ae some even though he wasn’t hungry. A rising fever had robbed him of his appetite. The ohing she wouldn’t do, though, was loosen his bandages so he could see what the problems were.

  That had to wait until he was left alohe following night. Then, when he was by himself, he whispered a word of lesser healing to heal his throat and clear his mind. The to work, attag the bandages on his arm that hurt less with his teeth. W by moonlight, he slowly unraveled the dense weave to reveal patchy burns and torn flesh where his armor removal had taken the skin with it on his upper arm.

  Simon ighose because none of them looked ied a unwinding the thing. His lower arm was much the same, and none of the major bones looked broken. When he finally uned his hand, he found that two of his fingers were splinted, but that wasn’t what ed him. He held his hand up in the moonlight and saw that all of his fiips that still remained were bed from frostbite and probably ie of them were missing, though. While he was unscious, someone had taken the liberty of removing his piirely and the st joint of his ring finger.

  He didn’t like it, but they had probably saved his life. “Well, it’s not the worst you’ve been hurt,” he told himself before whispering another word of lesser cure. When he healed his hand, he was careful not to try to restore the missing finger or any of the superficial burns. That would be too suspicious. Instead, he just healed his broken bones and all the damage from the frostbite.

  When it was do looked a right as far as he could tell. Simon didn’t try to take off the splints. Instead, he used his hand and his teeth to get at his other arm. This one had a splint across the forearm and what felt like a fractured radius. He healed that without any trouble, and whe to his other hand, he leased to see he’d only lost a join of his pointer finger, along with three more fractured fingers.

  Simon healed all of that, looking at the wreck his arms had bee. Then he looked down at his b-swaddled body and said, “Do I even want to know?” Part of him argued he could just kill himself and e back the old-fashioned way, but he didn’t listen to it. He wasn’t feeling very suicidal these days unless it was absolutely necessary; he had a lot more work to do.