They'd cleaned him up as best they could. He was no longer muddy or matted with dried blood and leaves, but the cuts that they were too late to heal were still etched into his skin; his arms, his face and - beneath the covers - his stomach.
He opened his eyes slowly, a cocktail of calming and pain killer potions pulsing through his veins to subdue him and stop him fighting back against the healers just trying to help. He was still in the mindset. Still a trapped animal...
Seamus couldn't help being confused. Everything was soft and blurry and not twelve hours before he'd been dragged through the mud. He didn't know where he was, he didn't know what new torture Alecto had come up with for him.
But he knew that voice. Oh God he knew that voice. Please don't let it be her. Please don't let Alecto have gotten her too...