Using the staff, I hobbled to the trees, refusing to put any weight on my leg. Tate lingered awkwardly as I picked up a fallen stick and measured it against my side. I tore a few vines down from the swamp trees and sat down on a rock. He watched as I stretched out my leg and hissed with the pain. "What are you going to do to treat that leg?"

   "Put it in a splint." I measured the stick again and broke it in half, making two about a long as my leg. 

   "You'll need three supports, then." He snagged a branch off of a tree and broke it over his knee, handing it over. I hesitated for a split second before taking it, measuring it, and grumbling my thanks. He sat down. I lined up the three sticks and started to wrap my leg.

   "I never caught your name," he finally said.

   I didn't look up. "It's Roxie."

   Tate bobbed his head. "Where are you from?"

   Without hesitation, I said, "Memphis." Even if he was a spy, Dani already knew that. That's where we'd met. "You?"

   "Boston. Born and reared. Is this your first time in the Ghost Realm? You're pretty young for a staffmaker."

   I shook my head. "Not a staffmaker."

   His eyebrows creased as I tightened the sticks at my foot. "You're not? Then why are you in here?"

   "Getting materials for a staff."

   I found a shred of amusement at watching his face twist with bewilderment. Shaking my head, I said, "I'm making my own staff." I rifled through my bag, annoyed that I was running out of gauze. I used most of it to wrap my calf and arm, wincing as both stung angrily.

   "Oh. I've never heard of that before."

   Pushing myself upright, I gingerly put weight on my leg. The splints shifted and dug into my skin, but it kept a lot of my weight even. Using the staff as a crutch, I was able to walk. I wouldn't be running anywhere any time soon.

   I looked around, my gut sinking. I'd completely lost my sense of direction. Again, I cursed myself for not doing more research before coming in here. I still needed a mahogany tree, and I hadn't even seen one. It would take a few days to complete my staff, so the longer I took to find this stupid tree, the longer I had to survive in here.

   Assuming I'd be strong enough with my staff to get us out of here, anyway. I hadn't even told Tate that I might not be able to get us out. 

   "You wouldn't have happened to see a mahogany tree, would you?" I asked sarcastically, frustrated with myself.

   Tate looked at me oddly. "There's like a whole forest of them a little ways away."

   I felt like water was dumped over my head and I rounded on him. "You're serious?"

   He nodded. 

   "Where?"

   Tate studied the area before he pointed down the river. "That way."

   "How far is it?" I asked excitedly.

   "Maybe fifteen miles?"

  "That's a little ways away?!" I groaned.

   He shrugged. "Sorry, I saw it when I was flying. To me, it's a short distance."

   My head fell down and I blew out a breath, my hopes dashed. With my leg hurt, it would take days for me to walk fifteen miles. There was another option, but I was hesitant to call on such a favor. I looked up at him, chewing on my words.

   "I have a proposal to make you."

   He raised his eyebrows. "I'm listening."

   "If you can fly over there and snag me a good enough branch, I'll let you out once I leave. No questions asked. No strings."

   Tate studied my face carefully, as if to check to see if I was lying. "You're not worried I'm not a criminal?"

   "At this point, I don't care. I need to get out of here as soon as possible." Besides, once I had my own staff, I somehow doubted he'd be a threat to me. If Alexie hadn't been joking about how much a personal staff helped, anyway.

   After a moment of thinking, he nodded. "I agree, but there's a problem. Shifting in here takes a lot of my energy. I have to wait at least a day before I can change to fly over. Then I can get back within a day or two, if I don't have to shift in order to break a branch."

   "At the rate that I have to walk, that's still faster than if I went there myself. It'll take me a few days to whittle my staff, but the sooner I start, the sooner we're out of here."

   Tate blew out a breath. "Alright then. We can move that way while I get my energy up. What kind of branch will you need?" He gestured in a certain direction. I started to move that way, my walk almost a crawl because of how I had to move my leg. With the splint and the staff to lift weight from it, I was able to think clearly past the pain.

   "An old one, but one that's still stable and thick. Preferably one as straight as you can find."

   Tate stepped ahead to pull aside a bush blocking my path. I stepped around it and caught sight of a dark shape diving directly for Tate's head. I shouted a warning, leaning on my good leg to wind up the staff like a baseball bat. Tate whipped around and his foot slid back, his shoulders dipping, and his hands came up to his face. 

   It was the stupid flying thing that had gone after me twice already. Tate tensed a second before it collided with him, but there was a yowl and something exploded from the underbrush. The flying beast screamed as the crystal panther tackled it midair. They fell to the ground and the beast didn't stand a chance against the feline. It stood up and faced us, sapphire eyes glowing as they locked onto Tate.

   Tate hesitated. I froze, staring at the panther, and it took a step forward with a faint growl. I could visibly see the hairs on the back of Tate's neck lift up. "We might have to run," he muttered.

   "Well, I don't," I retorted. "It's obviously after you."

  The crystal panther growled and cocked its head. Tate's eyes narrowed. "Actually, it is. It wants nothing to do with you. Why?" The panther's tail flicked and I frowned as Tate blinked. "Really?"

   "Wait, do you understand it?"

   "Of course. When you're capable of changing into a feline, you know their language." Tate tilted his head. "You saved this crythal's life?"

   I shook my head. "No. Actually tried to kill it."

   "Well, you did. He says you pulled that knife from his back. You know that's the only way you can kill a crythal, right? A knife has to be jammed in the seam in their spine. This guy was seconds away from dying, but you took the knife before it could shatter him." Tate lifted his hands. "He's trying to repay the favor."

   I gawked at the feline -- he'd called it a crythal -- and my mind raced. "Can it -- he -- understand me?"

   "Not your speech, but your body language. He can tell you're surprised."

   "Well, yeah, I am. I had no idea I was helping him."

   Tate nodded. "He's saying that the ravier he just killed wouldn't have killed you, so he hasn't repaid the favor yet. He's probably going to stick around until he's saved your life."

   Ravier. My eyes flicked to the dead beast on the ground. Considering how fast this crythal had killed it, I was immensely relieved that he didn't consider me his dinner. "Like I'm going to complain. He's welcome to stick around as much as he wants, as much as he doesn't try to eat me."

   Tate chuckled. "Crythals don't eat meat. They just like the chase." The crythal snorted and his claws retracted into his paws, his posture easing now that he sensed we weren't wary. Apparently, I gathered myself quite the little posse.