Hazel gently laid down Guelder’s body on a mat beside the spot chosen for the campfire, and wiped the blood off their hands. Surprisingly even for themself, their head was clear, even though the life of a beloved friend depended on them. This was no time to panic, no time to break down. All that had to wait.

  "Amiri, start a fire," they barked. "Linzi, get me a bowl and some water. Valerie, keep watch in case we get company. Tristian, you stay with me and help."

  The others ran about their tasks immediately. While Amiri busied herself with firewood, flint and steel, Hazel pulled out a knife and started to remove Guelder's damaged gear and clothing. What they saw underneath was horrifying. One swipe of the fearsome claws had been enough to mangle her body from shoulder to waist. Hazel pushed the shock out of their mind, trying to prepare themself mentally for cauterising the wounds.

  "Tristian, what is the strongest healing spell you have right now?"

  The priest looked as embarrassed as ever. He was as red as the setting sun, and his hands were trembling.

  "I feel you, Tristian," said Hazel softly. "Do you want Linzi to sing the Focus Song for you, or can you man up by sheer willpower?"

  As if on cue, a worried Linzi brought the bowl of water she'd been asked for, humming something to herself, a tune similar to the song mentioned, then falling silent when she noticed what she was doing. She had her journal and inkwell at the ready next to the firepit, just in case.

  "No, Hazel," muttered Tristian. "Not the Focus Song."

  "Answer my question, then. Your strongest healing spell available?"

  "Cure Moderate Wounds."

  Hazel stopped themself from lashing out or screaming in fury. Tristian, the chosen of Sarenrae, the best of all healers far and wide, had nothing better in store for his baroness than Cure Moderate Wounds.

  "I see," they said, shaking their head in disbelief. "So it falls to me, the ranger, to deal with this mess and turn it into moderate wounds you can heal. Get some soothbark from Guelder's backpack. A palm-sized black pouch that smells like cloves. Take one piece and put it between her teeth."

  They prayed it would work. If the baroness came to while they were working on her wounds, she would be in for a world of pain, and the last thing Hazel wanted was to see her suffer. They held the blade of their knife into the fire, while Tristian knelt beside Guelder's head, laying his hand on her pale, sweaty brow.

  "No," grunted Hazel. "Hold down her arms instead. She might thrash."

  "I'll do that," offered Amiri. "I'm stronger."

  Hazel let it slide, swallowing their resentment. It annoyed them to no end that Tristian, while clearly not doing everything in his power to help the baroness, was now getting a free pass to play the worried lover. However, Amiri did have a better chance to keep Guelder's limbs in place, and she was done with the fire, anyway.

  The ranger began with their grim work. They faintly heard Linzi mutter to herself while scribbling into her book. Valerie paced in circles around their makeshift camp, thoughtfully avoiding to look in their direction.

  "There," said Hazel, more or less content with the result. "The bleeding stopped. She will probably make it. I kind of regret getting a mirror for her, though."

  Now it was Tristian's turn to speed up the healing process with his spells. Alas, all he could do was regrow some skin.

  "I'm sorry I couldn't help more," he muttered. "I... I never wanted this to happen..."

  "You know what?" piped Linzi, looking up from her book. "I'd rather write a looong chronicle about a battle-scarred heroine than a short obituary on a perfect beauty. She is alive, and that's what matters. I'm sure she won't be mad at you!"

  "Also, more scars, more awesomeness," said Amiri.

  "Would you all stop discussing her looks?" exclaimed Valerie. "This constant talk of scars wears me off."

  "Scars are a girl’s best friends," said the barbarian with a wink. "One day you’ll see my point."

  Valerie glared at her from inside her closed helmet.

  "Indeed," she said bitterly. "A girl deprived of her beauty must find new friends. If people will never look at her again, at least she can spend time with her scars."

  "What's wrong with you, Valerie? Did someone forget to leer at you?"

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  "Keep your jokes to yourself, Amiri," grunted Valerie, staring down the barbarian.

  "Stop, you two!" exclaimed the baroness, suddenly coming to her senses and trying to speak through the soothbark. "This is not… aargh!"

  "Stay put, Guel," said Hazel. "Welcome back, by the way."

  Guelder assessed the situation quickly, and didn’t see it fit to argue with no shirt on. She lay back obediently and clenched her teeth around the painkiller in her mouth. She didn't have enough blood left in her system to blush at her scanty clothing.

  "We did what we could," said Hazel, "but you will need a costly restoration spell if you want your charming silhouette back. I will make sure to free up resources from the treasury."

  Guelder cast a glance on her battered body. She closed her eyes, processing the sight. Hazel's heart went out to her. They knew she would rather make peace with the new scars marring her body than spend a single speck of diamond dust on restoring her beauty. Again, it would be Hazel's task to bully her into getting some self-care. They spread a blanket over Guelder, removed the soothbark from between her teeth, and held a canteen to her parched lips to quench her thirst.

  "What happened to me?" she asked, trying hard to keep her voice steady despite her weakness.

  "Your owlbear friend, Your Grace, that’s what happened," said Valerie. "You shouldn't enter melee range at all. As to your irresponsible druidic experiments, I'd rather not comment on those."

  "Next time you get so close to an owlbear," suggested Amiri, "you'd better wield a decent sword instead of that toothpick. And you'll need some extra workout, as soon as you get better. In fact, an awful lot of extra workout."

  "You mean rehabilitation," said Tristian. "These scars can limit the range of motion of her right arm. She'll need to counteract that with gentle stretching exercises before even thinking of more serious exertion."

  With Hazel's help, Guelder worked herself up into a sitting position. Gritting her teeth, she let the ranger put both her hands on the back of her head, so that they could bandage her half-healed wounds.

  "Could you at least find out something?" asked Hazel.

  "Not much," said Guelder weakly, as the ranger wrapped her entire torso up in bandages. "I could not really get through to her, but I could sense she felt, most of all, confused. Out of place. She knew she should not be here, and acted out like any cornered animal would."

  "So they are coming from somewhere!" said Linzi.

  "Pfft." Amiri rolled her eyes. "Big fat wisdom. Everything is coming from somewhere. Even trees."

  "We can organise this fancy pastime every month," said the baroness, "and lose the best fighters and hunters of the River Kingdoms to these monsters. Alternatively, we can find the source of the invasion and strike at it. Tristian, when the hunt is over, I will need you to draw up a list of reported monster incidents and project them onto the map. Try to find a pattern. And now someone give me something to put on. It is time to continue the hunt."

  "When I went for water, I think I saw a hydra!" enthused Linzi. "It was quite big. Perhaps it will yield us the second head, if we move quickly."

  "No." It was Valerie again, in her sternest voice imaginable. "Your Grace, you can't go on in this state. You must return to the hunting lodge, or even better, to Tuskdale."

  "I can manage," protested Guelder, making a heroic effort to sound natural and healthy. "I will not slow you down."

  "We have one of the three heads," argued Valerie. "That means we fought with honour. The Mivoni are dead, and the Pitaxians are cowards. It's only us versus the Embeth Travellers. And you know what? If they win, so be it. They deserve every ounce of glory and gold for their trouble."

  "No, Valerie. I cannot quit. I need the people to see me fit and competent, pulling my weight, rather than outsourcing the monster problem to others."

  Valerie snorted with laughter, and didn't even bother to apologise. Hazel turned to the baroness and took her hand.

  "Guel, please calm down and see reason. With a blood loss like this, even a gust of wind can kill you. Your competence is one thing, but I cannot imagine you radiating strength in the next few days or weeks."

  "Bloody hell, if she feels up to it, why don’t you let her come?" intervened Amiri. "She's the chief, she can decide for herself!"

  "Because playing the hero is a dumb way to die, even more so for a ruler!" snapped Hazel.

  Guelder cast a desperate glance at Tristian, hoping for some professional confirmation. The priest shook his blond head.

  "I'm sorry, Guelder," he said. "This is a crippling wound. You need a good rest in a soft bed to restore your damaged muscles and replenish your blood. Preferably in your own bedchamber."

  "Anyway, you do need something to put on," said Hazel, rummaging in Guelder's backpack. They found an extra shirt, which they offered to her with a smirk. "My fit and competent baroness will surely be able to dress up on her own."

  Hazel's base little trick worked perfectly. Guelder used up all her reserves of stubbornness in her struggle with the shirt, and she was forced to admit that her companions were right. She could hardly use her right hand to shoo away a fly, let alone to hold a weapon or even cast a spell.

  "Damn it all to hell," she growled in frustration. "I quit, but that does not mean Nightvale is out. Hazel, as the person with the most reliable knowledge of nature, you are in charge. Find the Pitaxians and make sure they do not fare like the Aldori sisters. As to the heads, I leave that to your discretion. Keep it reasonable and lawful. I will be waiting for you in the lodge."

  She fumbled with the horn attached to her belt, until Hazel cut it loose with a smug smile and blew the S.O.S. signal. After a while, the rescue team appeared, ready to carry the baroness to the safety of the hunting lodge. Finally, she was in good hands, out of the reach of danger. The hunt could continue.