Dense ferns and tangled vines choked my path as I stumbled away from the light of the campfire. No one called after me, but the raucous laughter quieted, no doubt at a look or a word from Mattan. They all knew why I had gone, which made my attempt to hide it useless, but the bare thought of an audience made my stomach roll harder. I clapped a hand to my mouth and pushed on until the murmur of voices faded, then dropped to my knees and lost the last of the morning’s scanty breakfast at the base of a moss-covered tree.

When my stomach slowly retreated from my throat, I covered the mess with shaking fingers, then crept to the other side of the tree and leaned back against it, letting the damp moss cool my burning cheek. It wasn’t even a full minute later that I heard a carefully placed step behind me, and Lanz’s arm settled around my shoulders.

“How did you find me?” I didn’t open my eyes.

“You don’t exactly try to hide your trail.”

Not to mention that he could track the wind through the trees if he had reason to. I shivered in spite of the warm air, and Lanz pulled me a little closer.

“What would Meara say if she saw you walking on that leg?” If I kept talking, could I hold back the rush of tears that threatened? I had already proved myself soft enough for one day.

“That I’ll cripple myself for life, most likely. And that she’s glad I came after you.”

The tears breached my feeble defenses, and I swiped helplessly at my cheeks.

“I’m such a weakling. I’ll never be like the rest of you.”

“That’s not a bad thing with this group, Tsara.” His voice held the grave, thoughtful note that made him special among all the warriors in camp. I huffed a sound that was meant to be a laugh, but it came out more of a moan.

“I’m no good even in the infirmary. I nearly fainted at the sight of Dass’s arm today.”

“Dass nearly fainted at the sight of his arm. I felt a bit queasy looking at it myself.”

“Dass had lost more than a quart of blood. And you had refused any painkillers for your leg. I had no such excuse.”

“You needed no excuse, tesoro.”

Treasure. The pet name the entire camp had given me should have soothed, but today it stabbed. This was all I was. A useless treasure. Something to be guarded and watched over, protected and defended, kept safe at all costs. Not capable of joining in the battle, of taking a blow for my friends, even of tending to their wounds.

“A fine treasure I am. Three dead, more than a dozen injured, Meara nearly run off her feet, and all I can do is make bandages.”

“You think we didn’t need those bandages? Or that Meara had time to make them herself?”

“You could have made them and stayed off that leg as you were supposed to if I hadn’t been so weak. I’ll never find a way to repay all you’ve given me. I can’t even cook.” I choked on a sob, feeling the absurdity but unable to prevent it.

“Your cooking is improving.” Lanz couldn’t hide the hint of humor in his voice, but his next words softened into tenderness again. “And you were never asked to repay us, tesoro. But I won’t agree that you did nothing. Didn’t you sing?”

“Oh, sing!” I batted the word away contemptuously, and Lanz’s hand tightened on my shoulder.

“Yes, sing. You’ve never heard anything like the hush that fell over the infirmary when your voice floated through the canvas. We forget, Tsara. In the rush and roar of battle, we forget the truth you sing about. Sometimes we even forget why we fight. You remind us that there is an end. A greater purpose to this war. A future beyond the blood and pain.”

I shivered again as the piles of bloody bandages rose before my eyes, and Lanz leaned his cheek against my hair.

“Forgive me, tesoro. I’m too hardened to it. All of us are. This is why we need you.”

“Three years, Lanz.” The words left my lips on a whisper. “Three years, and I’ve lost count of the battles. Why can’t I harden? It would be better.”

“No, Tsara.” Lanz pulled back, and there was a ring of steel in his tone. “Never wish that. Never.”

“Meara says the sight of blood turned her stomach when she first came. Now she doesn’t even flinch.”

“You are not Meara.”

“I know it. Meara is far more useful.”

Lanz was silent for a moment as he pulled me close again, and when he did speak, his words came slowly.

“More useful perhaps, in a strictly practical sense. But not more needed. Never more needed, tesoro.”

“There, you see?” Tears filled my eyes as the faces of those who would never return floated through my mind. “You’re warriors, all of you. I’m only a useless treasure, good for nothing except to be placed on a shelf and locked away from danger. I want to do something, Lanz! I owe you all so much.”

“Oh, Tsara.” His voice held pain, and I raised my still brimming eyes to his face. “How can you not see it? You are our treasure. This is why we need you.” He lifted a hand to the knot of my hair and began carefully removing the pins that held the braided bun in place. “Do you still remember nothing of the day we found you?”

I shook my head and waited. I had heard the story many times, though never from Lanz, but nothing seemed able to pierce the darkness that shrouded it in my mind. I remembered nestling next to my sister beneath the roof of our family’s home, then waking to an infirmary tent with Meara and Mattan bending over me. I could imagine the horrors that had come between—imagine, but never remember.

“You were lying among the dead.” Lanz’s voice sounded far away, as though he was standing again amid the ruins of my village. “You were pale and still as death, but something—a breath, a flutter, I never knew just what—made me look closer. When I found that you were alive…” He was silent a moment as he removed the last pin and began loosing the twists of my braid. “It was like finding a pool in the desert, or a flower growing from a bed of rock. You were there and alive amid all the destruction. So innocent. So beautiful.”

He finished freeing the long, dark curls that were such a hindrance to everything when I forgot to tie them back, but that I hadn’t been able to bring myself to cut short like Meara’s. Always before, the story had been “we”—“when we found you,” “when we brought you back.” Had I even known that it had been Lanz at the first?

“You became very precious to us that day, tesoro. You reminded us that there was still beauty amid the ashes, that there was life in the midst of death. Even now, when you pale at the sight of a wound or sicken at the dark humor we use to cloak our grief, you remind us of what we fight for—the women and children, yes and even the men, who should never have such horrors brought to their doors.” Lanz tilted my chin to look into my eyes once more. “When we look at you, our hearts say, ‘Here is our Tsara. She has seen so much that she was never meant to see, and yet she is still filled with beauty and truth.’ But if you were to harden, our hearts would say, ‘What’s the use? Even our Tsara could not stand against the darkness. Why should we try?’”

I was crying now, tears that were unlike any I ever remembered, and Lanz’s eyes shone wet in the faint moonlight that filtered through the thick canopy above us.

“We need you, tesoro. We need you more than we need another warrior, or even another nurse. We fight for you, for your future and ours. Never say that our treasure is worthless. It means more to us than you can ever know.”

I wrapped my arms around him and held him hard, and he returned the embrace more firmly than ever before. We stayed that way for a long moment, then I pulled back and met his eyes again.

“What can I do, Lanz? How can I help? Now. Tonight.”

“Come back and sing for us, Tsara. The rough joking only covers our wounds. Your hymns are the balm that heals.”

I ducked my head and nodded, then scrambled to my feet and steadied Lanz’s arm as he pushed stiffly to his.

“Let me look at that leg when we return to camp.”

“There’s no need.”

“You’re in pain, and Meara has enough work on her hands. Please let me, Lanz. If I stop trying and sit idle, I won’t be a treasure worth having. Let me do what I can.”

“All right, tesoro. I’ll admit it does hurt tonight.” His arm settled around my shoulders again as we began picking our way through the dense ferns and tangled vines, back to the light of the campfire.