45,568 words at the moment, and a short snippet:

With Eri gone, Gabriel inspected the worst of Malachi's wounds; the gash across his face that had left his cheek open wide. He thought Sennet could heal that, and perhaps with minimal scarring, but he was more concerned that Malachi's eyes were not tracking his movements.

The wound on his temple worried him as well; swollen and clotted with blood. Gabriel passed his hand in front of Malachi's face without any reaction, and heard Josiah draw in a sob of a breath.

"Josiah, are you wounded?"

"No, my lord," Josiah whispered.

Malachi coughed. Blood dribbled out of the hole in his cheek. "My lord, I cannot--I cannot see."

I will be headed out to the garden in a bit here, because I didn't go last night.


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