My first instinct was to hit him.


    It’s what Master Bran would have done if he had been here. Outside the walls of the island was a battlefield, and a battlefield was no place for tears. If you had to cry, then hold it in until you got back to the island, because if you cry out here then you’ll die.


    Somehow, I doubted that particular pep talk would do much good in this situation.


    “Hey,” I announced myself a few feet away. I didn’t want to surprise him, nor did I want to get too close. Weepy people were huggers and I did not do hugs.


    I tossed his sword next to him, “It’s time to go.”


    Max put his hand on the blade of his sword. His tears had slowed to sniffles. I took that as a good sign. We should be able to head out soon.


    “I’m going to die out here.”


    It was a simple statement and one that I couldn’t disagree with. He had way too many issues that his Master hadn’t dealt with. Add in that he had an aversion to blood and I was amazed that he had survived as an apprentice, let alone made it to be a potential.


    I almost agreed with him, but that would have sent him back into tears. We were already behind schedule, and I didn’t need any more delays. I thought about telling him to toughen up, but that was a conversation that should have been had years ago.


    I took a step forward. Getting closer meant that I ran the risk of uncomfortable physical contact, but we really needed to get moving. I wasn’t sure what I was going to say, but I hoped something came to me soon. The bonfire of zombie corpses was going to attract more zombies sooner or later. I wanted to be gone before they showed up.


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    Max turned to look at me, “Are you going to kill me?”


    I froze. Sure, he was going to be a pain, but the thought of killing another potential, let alone my partner, was revolting.


    “Why would you ask that?”


    He stood up, “You are, aren’t you?”


    “I kill zombies.” I shook my head, “Not humans, and definitely not my partner.”


    “But I’m useless,” Max whined, “I get sick when fighting zombies…” His voice trailed off, “The other Masters would kill me if they found out…”


    “Do I…” I tried to keep the irritation out of my voice, “look like a Master yet?”


    “No, but you’ll never become a Master with me as a companion.”


    I sighed, I was going to have to spell this out for him.


    “I can’t let you die,” I promised. “If you die, then I go back to being an apprentice until the next potential is ready for missions.” I held my gaze on him, “I am NOT going back to being an apprentice.”


    “But…” He started.


    “No..” I picked up his sword and held it out to him, “No more excuses. I’m not going to let you die, and that’s that.”


    He cautiously took the sword and sheathed it. I could tell he didn’t believe that I was going to look out for him, but at least it looked like he was willing to travel.


    I pointed toward the bonfire, “There are going to be more zombies here soon. If you don’t want to fight, then we need to get moving.”


    He nodded and wiped his face. It wasn’t a perfect fix, but at least he was moving.


    “Byler?”


    I sighed. I wasn’t sure I was ready for another of his questions. “What?”


    “Are you going to report this when we get back?”


    It was a simple, but loaded question. If I didn’t detail what had happened and the council found out, then I could be thrown out. If I wrote up Max’s aversion to fighting, he would be cut loose. While he hadn’t spelled it out, what he was really asking was if I was going to turn him in later or if I was going to cover for him.


    I chose to put the answer off, “We’ll work on it,” I forced a smile I didn’t feel, it was the only thing I could think.