"None of you look too well. I think something's wrong with me, too." As Idiveer spoke, his gaze fell on the messy dining table.
He took two steps forward, picked up half a fish skeleton left over from the meal, and held it beneath his nose for a gentle sniff. A faint, unusual fragrance lingered in his chest.
His eyes flickered, as though he had noticed something but could not yet put it into words.
"Leader, do you think there's something wrong with the food?" Huiduo asked hesitantly.
O'Connor immediately spoke up. "How could that be? We ate so much last night, and we were fine when we got up today. My head hurt a little, and my body felt a bit weak, but... that should just be normal after overeating. Or perhaps I was simply too tired."
"Let's go check on the others first," he said.
The three jogged through the pouring rain, making their way around several neighboring wooden huts. Their expressions grew grim. By the time they entered this last hut, Idiveer already looked prepared for what he would find.
They lifted the curtain, and feeble coughing drifted out of the dark, damp interior. It reminded O'Connor, standing behind him, of every sleepless night he had spent in that dungeon. The most common note in the accompaniment to those long, dark nights had been this same decrepit, dying cough. He shuddered. His throat suddenly itched, and his lips parted and trembled uncontrollably as he coughed twice himself.
The five men inside lay limply on vine beds, all in remarkably similar positions: flat on their backs, toes pointing upward, looking exactly like corpses in coffins.
Their faces were frighteningly pale, their eyelids dark, their eyes dull, and their lips blackened. Looking at them, it seemed that only their