The sun was just beginning to stain the cool morning air when Yrsa returned, waking Everfast with a firm shake and handing him an apple as he sleepily got to his feet. Without a word she turned and strode into the trees, and Everfast stumbled after her.
Yrsa was silent as her long strides carried her over the plains, and Everfast glanced at her uncovered right arm. Deep red scratches ran down her skin and she held her right hand in a half-closed fist. A bruise coloured her right cheekbone. He let out a small gasp and she shot him a warning glare.
The sun was not yet high when Everfast caught sight of a wooden building resting against the foot of a hill.
'Come,' Yrsa said, and quickened her pace. Everfast trotted after her.
Once they were inside, Yrsa secured the door with a wooden beam and started to work on the fire as Everfast gazed around him. Bunches of dried herbs hung from the arched ceiling and intricate carvings covered the beams.
'There is some water in that bowl,' said Yrsa, startling him. 'Bring it to me.'
He brought over the smooth wooden bowl she was gesturing to and she crushed a handful of herbs into the water, dipping a cloth in as she stirred the mixture.
'The woods are growing more dangerous,' she murmured, glancing at Everfast's worried face. She started to dab the cloth on her cheek, wincing slightly.
Everfast silently took the cloth from her hand and laid it over the scratches, gently patting it over them. Yrsa stared.
'These are more likely to get infected,' Everfast said as he tended to her arm, 'and your hand needs attention.'
'I did not think you to be a healer, small one,' Yrsa said as he took her rough right hand into his small brown fingers.
'I learnt the lore as a child. I wanted to do this as a way of repaying her – helping others as she helped me, though her power was something I'd never seen before.'
Everfast removed the cloth from Yrsa's arm and wrapped it around her fingers.
'Hold this there. I'll refresh the infusion.'
Everfast turned to the pile of herbs lying on an enormous stool near the fire.
'What is her name, small one?' Yrsa asked.
Everfast's hands stilled.
'Vanmoriel,' he said quietly. 'Her name is Vanmoriel.'
'What manner of creature is she?'
'A fairy.'
Yrsa repressed a snort. Everfast glared.
'I have never seen a Big Person – begging your pardon,' he added, seeing Yrsa's lifted eyebrow, 'who resembles her in any way. In the tales my people tell, a person of her power can only be from the fairy-folk.'
'I have heard of folk dwelling near the Misty Mountains who resemble your description of her,' said Yrsa, smiling slightly. 'I can take you to them, if you so desire.'
'You would do that?' gasped Everfast, turning his shining eyes to her.
'I said I would assist you in your search, small one. I cannot let you continue alone, not after what I witnessed in the forest last night. Something has stirred foul creatures from their slumbers, and to walk these plains alone is to walk in peril.'
Yrsa winced as a throb ran down her arm and Everfast, remembering, brought the water to her.
'We aren't going anywhere until your wounds are healed, Yrsa.'
'Two days and I will be fit to travel. Nothing will come near these walls while I am here.'
Yrsa rose with the cloth wrapped around her palm and rested her good hand on Everfast's shoulder.
'Thank you, small one.'
