"So they're all dead," Atrox said wearily. He felt as tired as he looked, but his eyes were snapping with anger.
He gently carried Xan and put him beside Slya and Tiber.
Tiber had retreated to his normal form, but his left leg and one of his hands were seriously mangled. Slya seemed to be in an awkward position as well.
The more he saw, the more his anger built—an inferno that made the air around him shimmer. He had to calm himself down a bit as he began to feed the two potions, then strip where they were wounded so he could see properly.
As he worked, Xan began to speak. He smiled, but it came out as a wince of pain. "Actually, I was really honest at the start. When we met, I told you I was looking for someone to help me, right?
"I was actually looking for someone to help me stop slave trading in this place. That was what I searched for—not just someone who can help, but maybe it's one and the same after all.
