[This post is from Thordin’s point of view.]
“How’s Thom?” Thordin asked, hoping the change of subject would quell the queasy feeling that had gripped his stomach and refused to let go. There was something inherently unsettling about Marin not having some sort of plan, even though intellectually he knew there was no reason that she would have to have a plan, nor had she always had a plan going into every potentially dangerous situation they’d run into before—and they’d always managed to escape it alive.
Marin sighed and shook her head. “Neither of us know what’s really going wrong there,” she murmured. “He gets better and then he gets worse.”
“Sounds familiar,” Hecate said quietly, leaning against Matt. Thordin frowned slightly.
Matt just shook his head and Thordin aborted the question before it was fully formed. There was something odd in his friend’s expression that made him keep quiet.
Marin sighed. “Even if it is, it’s not like we have a solution to the problem because we don’t know what the problem is.” She didn’t bother to sit, just paced alongside the fire, clutching her mug between both hands. “And even if we knew what the problem was, that’s not a guarantee of a solution.”
“I’m sure he’ll be fine, Mar,” Matt said quietly. “Just give it time. He pulled himself back from the edge once already, didn’t he?”
She nodded, taking a sip of coffee. “Yeah. I just—I don’t know how many more times like that we’ll get.”
Hopefully enough. Thordin closed his eyes for a moment. Hopefully enough.