The night dragged on, thick with the smell of burnt crab as the adrenaline from the battle had faded, replaced by the groans of men waking up with mind-numbing headaches.
All the villagers—farmers and lost travelers who had been swept up by the Curse—were the first to regain their senses. They sat up in the tall grass, blinking confusedly and rubbing the lumps on their heads where Grom and the guards had "gently" subdued them.
"Alright, the show's over."
Ignotus stood over them, clapping his hands.
"You were mind-controlled, you attacked us, we won. Now, go home before the crabs come."
He kicked a sack of supplies toward them.
"There's dried meat, two waterskins, and a map drawn on a leaf."
It landed with a heavy thud at the feet of a bewildered old man.
"River's End is easy to find. Walk fast and don't stop."
Felix, standing behind Ignotus, let out a weird noise.
"Eeek! Young Lord!"
He clutched hard at his chest as if pained.
