“It’s not all my blood,” he says, still flat against the pillows. Why must the room spin so?

“‘s the goblins, mostly. I think. There was that wolf on the first day...”

He doesn’t seem aware of the fact that he isn’t making sense. “I got shot, and then there was the poison. I think it’s the poison that’s making me—“

He breaks off and starts coughing painfully, his tiny body rising and falling violently with each spasm.