Halt watched on from inside the healer's house as morning broke. It was dull and soggy and grey. Will had turned for the worse, maybe an hour into when he fell asleep. He'd held the boy for all that had remained of the night, whispering encouragement as he whimpered and shook, convinced this would be the night they'd lose him. It made him sick to see the boy like this. Will was barely an apprentice, not even a year in. He'd just learned to shoot straight, started to ask the right questions, and the boy was a natural. And more than that, Will was kind and compassionate, and as much as Halt didn't like to admit it, the boy brought humour to his life. And now, he would die here before he'd ever had the chance to live.

"Cheer up. That boy's still got fight in him yet." The healer broke through Halt's thoughts with a steaming cup of coffee. He took the coffee gratefully.

"Any news from your friend?"

Halt frowned. Gilan and the Baron's men had been out most of the night, only returning in the early hours, tired, aching and soaked to the bone from the constant rain. He'd seen them come back, but so far, none had come to find him.

"Nothing." Halt sighed and rubbed his hands across his face.

It was late afternoon when Gilan arrived at the healer's house.

"We tracked him for most of the night," he reported, "The tracks circled around, heading straight back here… then they just disappeared."

Halt frowned, "Think he's coming back for another shot at the Baron?"

"Certainly looks that way. How is Will?"

"No better, but no worse either."

There was a polite cough behind them, and both men turned to see the healer standing there meekly.

"Sorry to interrupt, lads." he said, "But now, with the both of you here." He trailed off meaningfully.

"Of course," Halt said, understanding at once.

He could hardly expect to keep Will here any longer. The healer had other people to attend to, and as sick as Will was, there was nothing more they could do for him here that couldn't be done in Halt's cottage. At least then, they'd be home.

Halt moved to the back of the room, where Will was sleeping silently. The boy was pale and panting and looked utterly exhausted. His skin was covered in a sheen of sweat, but he was trembling terribly.

At his touch, Will whimpered but didn't wake. He scooped him up and carried him to the door, where Gilan and the healer were waiting.

"These will keep him breathing easy." the healer said, handing a basket of vials and herbs to Gilan.

" And these are for everything else." He put a few clean cloths on top.

"Everything else?"

The healer cringed. "He'll likely be sleeping for days," he said gently.

"Right."

They all moved outside, where it had begun to rain again.

"Good weather." Grumbled Halt, adjusting Will in his arms as the horses nickered a greeting.

"If things get bad, send for me, and I'll come at once." The healer smiled

**Back at Halt's cottage***

They arrived at Halt's cottage just before the rain finally eased to a light drizzle. The wind had picked up, though, and now it was freezing cold.

"Figures," grumbled Gilan as Halt unlocked the door. They both bundled inside, soaked to the bone and shivering. Thankfully, Will, who had ridden with Gilan, had been kept dry by Halt's ranger cloak, which he had spread over the boy like a poncho, and Gilan's cloak had been layered on top of that to make sure he kept warm.

"I'll grab us some towels and get Will sorted," Gilan said with the boy in his arms, "You get the coffee on."

Halt just grunted in response. What seemed like a second later, Gilan was back, without Will, shirtless and holding a towel out to Halt, which he took gratefully.

"Thanks."

Gilan sat with a sigh on Halt's couch, leaving a trail of water where he walked. Usually, that would have bothered Halt, but he was too tired and worried to care.

Halt grabbed out the coffee pot and shook it experimentally. Still enough for both of them.

"Gilan?" He said, "Was that assassin familiar to you?"

"Not really. Why's that?"

"I feel like I've seen his face before. But I can't place where."

Before either of them could think more, there was a faint, whimpering cry from Will's room, and the conversation was forgotten.

"Stay there," Gilan said, standing quickly, "I'll check on him."

Halt watched him disappear and continued making them both a much-needed coffee. He rubbed a tired hand to his face, trying to blink away the exhaustion.

Gilan returned from Will's room a moment later, face grave and fists clenched.

"Bastard." He growled, "Doing something like that to a kid."

"A ranger." Halt reminded him softly, though his heart hurt deeply for the boy.

"An apprentice."

There was silence.

"He's still asleep." Gilan said at last, "Halt, will you please rest now? You look like death walking."

The grizzled ranger gave a short, mirthless laugh. "You should look in the mirror." he said, "I'll have to talk to the Baron. He'll be wanting an update after all this." Halt gestured at the room where Will was sleeping and felt his heart tighten.

Both men stood in silence, listening to the rain on the roof. Eventually, Gilan spoke. "You go do what you gotta. I'll take care of him. You can count on me."

"I know." Halt clapped his former apprentice on the shoulder, immensely grateful for his presence.

"I'll be back in an hour."

***In The Baron's office***

It was late, but the Baron couldn't sleep. He sat at his desk among mountains of paperwork, sipping a coffee too strong for this hour of the night. The rain was heavy on his windows, and the ever-growing stack of paperwork nagged at his mind. Plus, with the threat of an assassin going around, he wasn't quite as at ease as he was letting his men believe.

He glanced around now, suddenly suspicious of all the dark corners. And the light flickering from the lantern on his desk was making leaping, frightful shadows on the walls.

And he couldn't be sure, but he thought he saw movement.

Was it a shadow at the corner of the room? Edging along like a thief? Baron Arald put down his cup of coffee, straightened up his paperwork, and slid his glasses down his nose, all to get a better look while desperately pretending he'd noticed nothing. The shadow didn't move, but under the low sound of rain on the roof and wind at the curtains, he swore he could hear the rasping breaths of the intruder. Suddenly, unable to take it, he swung around to face the shadow, holding up a candle to eliminate the gloom.

"Show yourself," He barked. Nothing moved, not even the wind. The rain increased outside to become a deafening roar and a blast of wind threw open the curtains, snuffing out the candle and plunging the room into darkness.

The Baron swore, hurling himself to his feet and fumbling for his sword. Something clattered in the back of the room. The Baron swung around.

"Something the matter?" Light flooded the room, and in walked Halt, quiet as a cat on the hunt.

The Baron stood briefly, looking around in the sudden and blinding light. Nothing in the room was amiss. He felt foolish and hung his sword away, sitting back down at his desk where his papers were now in disarray.

"This assassin business has now got me jumping sat shadows Halt." He laughed nervously, "Please tell me you have news."

Halt looked down, his expression unreadable. "Nothing yet," he muttered.,

There was a silence between them.

"How's young Will?"

"Gilan is with him."

The Baron pressed his fingers to his temples. "And I suppose there's nothing from Crowley about this whole affair?"

Halt grimaced. "You'll be the first to know."

"Even before you?" The Baron joked.

But Halt either missed or ignored the joke. The Baron suspected it was the latter. "Good night, Halt." He said gruffly, and suddenly he was alone again, staring at an empty space. Halt was gone as if by magic.