Petal's POV

The scent of sickness had begun to cling to everything.

It threaded through the air like invisible smoke thick, cloying, unrelenting. The halls that once echoed with the noise of warriors sparring now whispered with the sound of coughing and shallow breaths. The infirmary reeked of herbs and sweat, and beneath it all, of fear.

I wiped my brow with the back of my hand, smearing dirt across my skin. My fingers trembled as I crushed the last of the dried sage leaves into the mortar. ...