No. Not infection.
Poison.
Horror swamped her so thoroughly that Zahra hardly noticed when the old woman returned, one of the caravan's healers close behind her. Oh gods, no. Please, no no no...
"Cole?" Her voice shook as she smoothed his hair back from his sweat-slicked brow. "Oh gods, please, you have to hang on, please, please..."
The healer was suddenly beside them, demanding to know what had happened. As quickly and concisely as she could-- without revealing too much-- Zahra explained how Cole had been wounded, and that she had only just now realized the blade had been poisoned.
Despite their best efforts, neither she nor the healer were able to identify the toxin. The elderly man shook his head as he divided up a few jars of herbs and poultice between them. "There is nothing more we can do from him," he murmured regretfully. "Other than to treat the symptoms. You said you are a field medic, of sorts-- keep him cool, hydrated, and the wound clean. Other than that..."
He sighed and shook his head as he got to his feet. "Pray."
Zahra did not rest until nearly midnight, working frantically to keep Cole's condition stable. By the time she did sleep, it was only because she'd literally worked herself to exhaustion, and she more or less passed out curled beside Cole's form, her hand resting on his chest, feeling the rise of his breath and the beat of his heart.
The emptiness greeted her almost immediately, but for the first time in her life Zahra tried to manipulate it, rather than letting it play with her at its whim. Cole. Show me Cole, I need to see him. Cole. Cole...