"Vulture, get a grip," Duke said, his voice grim but firm. "If Sparrow's still alive, he's probably waiting for us, stuck in a dire situation. If we waste any more time here, he could be dead for real. Don't jump to conclusions—not until we see his body for ourselves."
Duke didn't want to say it, but the words were necessary. He needed Vulture to pull himself together. Kisha and Duke couldn't afford to babysit him.
If even Sparrow, with all his skills, had been caught off guard and unable to fight back, it meant their enemy was powerful enough to push him into a corner.
They couldn't afford to be distracted or broken, not now. If they allowed their spirits to drop, it would only drag them all down.
Vulture's blank expression and dull eyes slowly shifted toward Duke. He stared at him for a long moment before, suddenly, he burst into a sob. "Master, Sparrow..." His voice cracked, choking on the words.