“Rise,” Melody said, her voice coming out like a command. She hadn’t meant to, but they were already standing, returning to their stiff posture. She sighed. “How many times do I have to tell you—you aren’t slaves. We will be happy to accept your help, but we don’t expect it of you. Certainly not now.” She gestured vaguely with one hoof, at the numerous bandages stuck to them. All their little infections had been treated, and all were healing. But it would take time.