RAIN BIRDS COOED and fluttered through the rafters, slipping in and out of a hole between the roof and the wall as dawn broke. Doom roused with a sleepy groan, putting his hand on his friend’s shoulder and shaking. “Ti, wake up.” He grew concerned when she did not react to his touch at all. “Ti?” He touched her brow. “You’re warm,” he murmured in growing alarm. “You’re not supposed to be warm to my touch.”

He carefully lifted her head so he could slide his arm from beneath her head, then knelt by her. Her struggling breath wheezed; her skin bore the sickly flush of fever. When he uncovered her midriff to examine her wounds, she shivered violently. The sight made his heart go cold. He cursed to see the livid, half-healed cut in her side. “You should have been changing shape every night so you healed faster,” he scolded her. “I knew I should have gathered golden seal root when I saw the plant between storms.” He caressed her hair, his eyes dark with worry. “We don’t have anything for infections or fevers. I’ll have to go find it.”

He glanced around the barn grimly. “I don’t dare leave the fire burning with you alone. That is just begging for this place to burn with you in it.” He got to his feet and went deeper in and examined the various stalls. Hay filled one of the stalls towards the back of the barn for travelers to make use of. Bringing their gear to the back, he made a makeshift sleeping pallet and brought Tiwaz to the back. Her soft whimper of discomfort reflected both her pain and her weakness. The latter kept her desire to throw off the blankets in check.

He stroked her hair, earnestness in his voice. “I don’t want to leave you alone, but I don’t have any choice. You are too weak to get through this kind of infection without medicinal herbs.” He dug through his pouch, pulling out the two dragon coins, looking at them. “I hope what Gareth said is true.” He placed the coins on either side of Tiwaz’s head, then placed his hand on her shoulder. “I don’t know anything about praying, so don’t take insult if I’m not saying anything right.” He closed his eyes tightly. “Please, if you are gods as Gareth said, if you would watch over a mere, former slave…please. Please keep her safe until I can return. I can’t lose her. Not now,” he said before getting to his feet and heading out in search of herbs.

Stepping outside, he had to blink at the clearest blue skies and brilliant sunshine. He growled as he stalked into the forest. “This is obscene. She never could endure cold. Now, a beautiful day at last and she is so sick.” He looked over his shoulder and whispered, “Hang on, Ti. Don’t leave me.”

Moments after Doom had disappeared into the forest, a dark shadow appeared on the ground in front of the barn, growing until what created it neared. The same ruby-eyed dragon from Dragons Gate back-winged and touched the ground with his back feet. Without settling completely, his form changed, becoming a tall, human-appearing man. His eyes were still ruby red, his skin dark bronze in color. His clothing was black edged in browns, wings folding back into a cloak.

The dragon man held up his hand and passed through the door without needing to open it, striding to the stall where Tiwaz lay. He frowned at the sight of her, lowering himself to the crate near her head as he touched her brow. “Sister, this was hardly a matter to make light of.” He paused, glancing at the coin with the emerald-eyed dragon. “Of course I will guard over her, no matter your penchant for understating the seriousness of even the direst of circumstances. Someone must. Neither you nor Keth have the energy to cross the veil beyond our earthly domains right now.”

Tiwaz opened eyes hazed with fever, sniffing the air as she shifted. “Who is there?” she demanded in a rasping whisper. “Dragon?” She grimaced, struggling to get up from under the layers of blankets and cloaks Doom had put around her. “Can’t be…not Dragons Gate…you said you can’t—”

“Hush, young warrior,” the dragon man commanded in a deep baritone that was much like his draconic-form’s voice. “One of your wounds became infected. You are very weak right now. You must conserve your strength.” He rummaged through the nearest backpack, took out a rag, and dampened it with water from the water skin, placing it on her brow. She sighed in relief at the cool rag on her fevered skin. “There. That is better.”

Her eyes slit open, looking in his direction. She tensed again, struggling to get away from him. “You aren’t Dragon,” she grated out.

Amused, annoyed, and concerned all at once, he put his hand over her heart without touching. “For the love of…relax, would you?” She went still with a heavy sigh as he wicked the tension away. “You said yourself once that dragons are more magic than not. Why do you not think we cannot do as you and change our forms when we wish?”

“Here…not Dragons Gate. Why…here? Where…” She swallowed, having trouble speaking. “Where is…Doom?”

“He seeks medicinal herbs that will aid you in your recovery.” He dampened the rag again, then held it up, blowing on it before placing it on her brow once more. She sighed, relaxing with the relief it brought her. “I am here because he prayed for someone to watch over you. I answered because my siblings could not.”

Her eyes opened again, her brow creasing slightly in a frown as she tried focusing on him. “Doom prayed…to gods?”

“You sound affronted.” Carefully uncovering her, he wiped down her exposed skin to keep her cool. “Is it the fact he prayed? Or because there was an answer to his prayers?” He smoothed her hair back with one hand in a soothing gesture. “Did you know that you are correct when you claim there are no gods? By the mortal definition of a god, it is a being who is all seeing, all knowing, all powerful, of which there are absolutely none? Or two, depending on how you view it.”

She frowned at him, grimacing in pain for a moment. “I do not…understand.”

“It is complicated,” he told her. “The only way to describe it simply is divinity is the confluence of desire, knowledge, power, and enlightenment fused in spontaneous evolution.” He chuckled at her expression. “I could elaborate?” he offered.

“Please don’t,” she requested, closing her eyes. “Everything already hurts. Do not need to add a headache.”

He inclined his head. “As you wish. But. Gods derive their power from those who pray to them. The fewer who pray to a god, the weaker they become, until they are barely shadows of what they once were.” He paused, helping her sit up and giving her a drink of water. She lay back with a sigh. When she had relaxed again, he continued. “All the gods that live now were born before the world fractured. None of us were immune to its devastation, or the crisis of faith many had in the decades and centuries that followed.” He looked at her wrist as he held one arm up to bathe it with the cooled rag. “Recovery is slow when wounds are deep.”

Silent for a long time, she eventually opened her eyes, looking up at him again with a faint frown. “You really are…a god?” He shrugged one shoulder. “We prayed…why were we abandoned?” She struggled to get up, her anger and indignation giving her a burst of strength, stopping only when the dragon placed his hand against her cheek and she relaxed again. “We were…children…”

The dragon man looked at her with infinite sadness. “The answer is complicated, dear one, and one that should be explained when you are stronger. I can only tell you that no gods willfully abandoned you. Now is not the time to answer that question. You must focus on recovering.”

“I thought…being a shape shifter…healed faster.” She gasped, grimacing when an injudicious movement, albeit slight, pulled the inflamed flesh in her side.

“Natural shape shifting as you possess requires considerable reserves of energy.” His voice held an affectionate chiding tone. “Did you think there would be no cost to not sleeping or eating properly?” He caught the tear that rolled from the corner of her eye towards her hairline when she looked away. He tasted the tear, then smiled sadly. “It is not selfish to care for yourself. Who will watch after Doom if you are gone?” She lay back with a sigh in resigned defeat, unable to counter the argument. “That is better. Rest now.”

The dragon man glanced at the coin with the blue diamond-eyed dragon, then back to her. “Your friend returns victorious. It is time for me to depart.” He took her hand in both of his, pressing a kiss against the back. Carefully, he curled her fingers in a loose fist and tucked the blanket around her again. “I will not be able to return to this side very soon. There are not enough praying to allow any of us to breech the veil more often. But I will always hear you, dear one. We will always watch over you and Doom.” He stood, looking towards the front as Doom dragged the door opened then shut with impatience.

“Tiwaz!” Doom entered the stall empty of all but his friend and dropped to his knees, checking on her condition. His shoulders sagged in utter relief. “Oh, thank gods, you’re still alive,” he breathed. “I was so afraid I was taking too long.”

“Doom?” She roused, looking at him blearily. She sighed, closing her eyes again. “You’re here. I had the strangest dream…”

“Fever dreams are always strange.” He patted her shoulder carefully. “I’ll make you some tea with these herbs to help with the pain and fever. I’ll need to get as much of the infection out of the wound so the poultice can work better.”

She pulled out her hand after he left, opening it to look at a dragon coin with a ruby-eyed dragon. Blue diamond, emerald and onyx chips, haloed its head. She curled her fingers around it again. Weakly dropping her hand to her chest, she said softly, “Yes. Strange.”