Llew moved to the door and cleared a path back to the bed. Then she shoved things on the floor back to create a narrow semi-circle around the bed.

She asked Jonas if he would like to lie down. He declined. She briefly considered clearing and seat of the other chair, but without knowing what she could say to him, sitting so close to, and facing Jonas felt like a recipe for discomfort on both their parts. So she jumped up onto the bed and sat, legs swinging and hands lightly gripping the edge. The metal bed squeaked and hit the wall with each stride. Squeak, thud . . . squeak, thud.

The mattress was incredibly soft, which was lovely to sit on, but she wondered how Jonas would cope if he ended up lying on it for days on end. She had no idea how long he would have to stay in bed. She’d seen fellow street kids die of fever. Seen others come right after a couple of weeks. And there was something wrong with his right leg. Might he need some sickness cut from it? Would it be like after Aris attacked her? Would they spend weeks here? Or could they get away in days? The longer they stayed, the more danger they were in, that was certain. And now Llew would have to look after Jonas while he was incapacitated. She hoped she could do as good a job as he had for her back in Taither. He’d always been there when she needed him. His strength had allowed him to support her easily. Neither of them had that anymore. Llew had never had to nurse anyone before, and her mind was bringing up images of blood and gore that really didn’t help her feel ready to aid Jonas. But she’d done okay to date. Anything he’d needed from her she was always ready to give. She could do it again, with or without magic.

‘Llew, please.’ Jonas’s pleading tone suggested that the low noise she thought she’d heard moments before might have been him talking. ‘Stop.’

Oops. Had she voiced some of her fears? ‘What?’ She slowed her swinging legs.

‘Do you have any idea how temptin’ it is to add truth to what that sounds like?’

‘What?’ What on earth was he talking about? Squeak, thud. Squeak, thud. ‘Oh. Ha ha.’ Now she got it. She swung her legs with deliberation, and a little more omph. Thud. ‘Quite tempting, I imagine.’ Something stirred in her belly.

Jonas turned his head, his profile half hidden by his long hair. She still had no idea how Braph had done that; it had barely covered Jonas’s ears a couple of weeks ago. She did, however, know exactly how Braph had given Jonas the new bump halfway down his nose. The profile she’d so often loved gazing on altered forever.

He was looking at her out the corner of his eye, something approaching grudging tolerance creasing his lips.

Llew let her legs keep swinging. Tempted, was he? So, why was he still sitting there? Of course, he still had a sore leg. Maybe he couldn’t. She almost felt bad for teasing him, then she remembered that kiss. Or assault. Squeak, thud.

‘I’m still a man, Llew.’

‘I know that.’ She’d never said any different. And why would she think different? No matter what he thought, he was still Jonas, even without his Syakaran power. Oh . . . Now, even that kiss made some sense. ‘Is that was this is about? You needing to prove you’re a man? You don’t need to prove it to me. Do you need to make some sort of show of proof to yourself?’

He didn’t answer. Any hint of humor left his face though. Then he turned away, looking down.

‘Go on, then.’

Squeak, thud. Squeak, thud.

Thud. Jonas’s foot slid from its book-pile rest, dragging the top couple of books with it with their own dulled thuds. Jonas sucked air through his teeth and hunched over his leg. Llew stopped swinging her legs.

Jonas dragged his foot under him, rocked forward, stood, turned. The blankets had fallen from him, and he presented himself naked – the first time she’d seen him so since the Duffirk fight. There was that white foot and a range of red marks all over his body, some clearly hand-shaped or smears when Aenuks had dragged their burning touch across his skin, and a range of cuts shallow and deep. He looked about as broken as she’d ever seen him. And yet, in this moment, she felt she was looking upon the Jonas of Quaver his countrymen and women revered. Despite his chinked surface and bruised ego, this was the man she’d fallen in love with.

There was strength there, whether he knew it or not. He might proclaim that she should leave him behind, but all he needed was for someone to point him in the direction of the fight and he would fight. Aris had been the one steadying Jonas’s tiller since before he was born. Jonas wasn’t proud of the choices he’d made since Aris abandoned him, but Llew felt they came from a desire to do good, to be better.

Jonas didn’t need Llew, or anyone, telling him what to do, but while he remained adrift, Llew would gladly sail alongside, nudging him to keep him to keep him on course. He felt unmanned by the loss of his Syakaran powers? Well, give him a moment of manliness, if he wished, and if Llew was honest with herself she rather liked the idea of being on the receiving end.

He looked her up and down.

She had spoken on impulse. Now she found herself resolving to see this through. If Jonas faltered, she would challenge him. In his own eyes, he was weak and slow; in hers, the rest of the world didn’t count for much without him in it.

She should have been repulsed, especially after that kiss. And some small part of her was. But there was a helplessness beneath the intensity Jonas was trying to portray that begged her to help him. And perhaps this was the only way she could. She couldn’t heal his multitude of small injuries – and whatever was going on with his leg – couldn’t guarantee his safe passage from Turhmos, nor Quaver’s continued acceptance and adoration when he returned powerless. But she could give him this opportunity to prove himself, even if it was only to himself.

Jonas met her gaze as he took a moment to lean on the back of his vacated chair, and maintained it as he took a limping step towards her.

‘Is this what you want?’ he asked. He looked like he was telling a good joke.

Was it? Yes, it was. Kynas and Braph and her life in Cheer might have nested negativity deep in her subconscious. But this was Jonas. Being with him had only ever been good.

She nodded, but Jonas had already read into her hesitation, he paused, giving her a dubious look.

‘Are you sure?’

Llew closed her eyes, smiled. ‘I think that’s the sexiest thing anyone has ever said to me. Say it again.’ She opened her eyes to see his response.

He smiled that quirky smile she liked so much. It danced the edges of reminding her of Braph, but in this moment, he was all Jonas. Perhaps it was something about the way his hair framed his face. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Mmm.’ She savored the warm glow his words sent through her with a long blink. ‘Say it again.’

He almost swaggered as he took a couple of steps, like he wasn’t ravaged by pain. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes.’ Llew let her thighs relax so he could get real close, standing between them, bunching her blanket at the top of her thighs. Jonas nibbled his lower lip as his eyes shifted over her face, and Llew found herself smiling, if just a little. Whatever this was going to be, it was theirs; Jonas and Llew’s.

Llew took a moment to appreciate his musculature beneath the black gryphon tattoo – traced the crest of its head with her fingers – before Jonas gripped her head again, leaned in and pulled her to him, engulfing her bottom lip between his. Then he was inside her, pushing the bed against the wall with more force than Llew’s leg-swingings ever could have.

Jonas’s skin was clammy with an unhealthy sheen. He growled through gritted teeth and scowled somewhere off to the side. Cursing his pain? He was so deft at keeping it to himself, Llew had no measure of what he was dealing with. Whatever he was going through, he didn’t let it deter him.

It was animalistic, urgent.

It was a release Llew hadn’t realized she’d wanted. But after weeks of heartache, sorrow, fear, and failure, the simple joy of being skin-to-skin in relative safety and comfort brought a rush of its very own. Since she’d told Jonas she loved him, they’d barely been able to touch each other, let alone be together like this.

She wrapped her arms around him, hands always in motion – gripping his head, shoulders, all of him – wishing she could engulf his entire being with her own. And then it was over, and she was both disappointed and relieved. Moments before, she thought she didn’t want it to end and would’ve gone to her grave early to feel that for the rest of her life, yet, in reaching a conclusion, she could breathe again.

Sated, they fell in a twisted heap across the bed. Jonas kept kissing Llew all over the side of her face closest to him and down her neck. She’d given herself to fulfill his needs, but Llew had found her own fulfillment. She loved him.

After their breathing had settled into a steady rhythm, she said, ‘Yes.’

Jonas laughed as he nuzzled behind her ear, kissed her again, and let his fingertips trail across the roll of blanket over her chest.

‘My answer is yes.’ Llew craned her head back to look at Jonas, as well as forcing him to stop kissing her and listen. ‘I never really answered you. Mainly because I never planned on getting married . . . to anyone. But we could, couldn’t we? Maybe when we get back to Rakun. ‘Cause I’ll always have your back . . .’

‘And I’ll always have yours,’ he murmured. His eyes had taken on a dreamy sheen. Maybe it was the fever.

‘And it’d be good to say to the world that whatever we’re doing, we’re in it together, right? And you said things were always easier if you knew you had a soft place to land. And I want you fighting this with everything you have. And . . . I don’t know. I feel like there are a million reasons to do it, but I can only name a few.’

They watched each other, eyes flicking across the other’s face. Llew didn’t know what Jonas was seeking, but she was after some sort of assurance. Sure, it had been him who asked her to marry him and her answer to give, but it had been so long since he’d asked, and so much had happened, maybe he didn’t think it was a good idea now.

‘You know how to light up the dark, don’t you?’ Jonas’s mouth crooked up at one corner, and his eyes sparkled like they hadn’t since before they’d left Merrid and Ard’s farm; since before he’d lost his powers. She was almost sure it wasn’t the fever this time.

Llew smiled back.

The arrhythmic thumps and discordant scrapes of Elka making her way up the stairs, accompanied by an echo of someone matching pace with her, reached them. Llew helped Jonas back to the seat and rearranged the blankets over him, then tightened her blanket about herself again and opened the door a crack, peering through. Elka was coming along the hallway, accompanied by a woman, a little older, taller, and straighter than Elka, but otherwise identical. She had to be Elka’s mother. The doctor. The woman carried a leather bag, similar to the one wielded by the doctor on the boat from Aghacia to Phyos. Elka carried several neatly folded sheets.

Llew opened the door to admit them.

‘I hear we have a very important patient,’ the woman said.

‘Mama,’ Elka admonished, placing her burden on top of a stack of books and closing the door quietly behind them.

‘Oh, pfft.’ The woman waved her hand over her shoulder. She took in the spaces Llew had created. ‘Oh, wonderful. Wonderful. That would explain the noise then.’

Llew’s cheeks flamed and Jonas suddenly found a need to study the floor.

‘Might want to keep it down in future,’ the woman continued. ‘Easier to keep a secret, that way.’ Her eyes were quick, taking in every detail of the room and the state of their guests. ‘Yes, those wet clothes wouldn’t have been doing you any good. We’ll get you some dry ones. Call me Rhaena.’ She placed her bag on the floor, and crouched, holding a hand out for Jonas.

He shook her hand.

‘And you’re Jonas, the Great Syakaran of Quaver, protector of the weak, guardian of justice.’

Jonas gave a long blink, followed by wide-eyed surprise.

Llew could hardly believe she was hearing such awe spoken with regards to him this deep inside Turhmos. Even Merrid and Ard had been wary of him.

‘You may be surprised how far your tales have made it into Turhmos, but there is quite a trade, both in novels and cartoons. You— I hope you don’t mind me saying, you seem smaller in real life, but, I suppose, given the circumstances . . . Elka has adored you since she was a baby.’

‘Mama.’ Elka’s scowl soon turned into a grin. Not overly embarrassed at having her admiration admitted, then.

Rhaena shrugged. ‘I suppose she never had a choice, since I started reading to her while she was still at the breast.’

‘Mama.’

‘Ha ha. Right, yes, you’re not here for those tales.’ Rhaena glanced behind her where the other cushioned seat remained covered in books and papers.

Llew lifted them from the seat and found a corner to poke them into while Rhaena pressed the backs of her fingers to Jonas’s forehead and sat.

‘Hmm.’ She eased back. ‘Elka mentioned you had a limp?’

Jonas cleared his throat. ‘Yeah. My right leg.’

‘I heard about the fight in Duffirk, though details are murky. There were rumours you had died. Clearly not true.’ She leaned forward and scooped up Jonas’s right foot to rest on her knees. ‘We are most pleased— Oh.’

Elka gasped.

Jonas tried to make himself smaller.

The mood in the room shifted. Where moments earlier Rhaena had been light-heartedly chatting away, she now somberly took in the marks on Jonas’s leg. She ran fingers up the red line and beyond, following an imaginary extension beyond his knee. She pressed against his flesh in several places along or near that line, watching Jonas for reaction. His jaw remained tense, greater discomfort only evident in a twitch of his eyes.

Allowing the pale foot to rest in her lap, Rhaena watched Jonas for a few moments before speaking again.

‘I think you already know it’s unlikely you’ll walk out of here.’

Llew froze, jaw dropped. Jonas nodded. He seemed resigned, like he was just going to accept death or— Whatever this woman was suggesting now.

‘Couldn’t an Aenuk help, I mean, if he wasn’t Karan? Can’t they heal everything?’ Couldn’t Llew fix everything? And they knew how to push through that Aenuk-Karan barrier. Llew might not be pregnant, but surely a doctor had blood-letting syringes.

Rhaena looked up at her, her face full of kindness and pity. ‘Where are you from? I can’t place the accent.’

‘I— I grew up in Aghacia.’

‘Across the sea.’ She seemed impressed. ‘I’m afraid Turhmos’s relationship with the Aenuks isn’t as romantic as we may lead the world to believe. They are not available for everyday needs,’ Rhaena said, gently. ‘I was stationed near Keldely for a while when they were building the railways. Dangerous work, that. I’ve worked with Aenuks at the border before, and it is quite the miracle to watch them work, but even with their help, we had to remove limbs to save lives. A broken bone must still be set properly before accelerating the healing process. We still lost several soldiers to infection. We learned to be very careful about when to bring in the Aenuks to close some wounds. There’s little point draining life from your surroundings only to have your patient die painfully days later. It was often too dangerous to open them up again. We’re still learning the science of germs. As far as I know, that is a complication even beyond Aenuks when it comes to healing non-Aenuks. Of course, such complications weren’t an issue for Aenuk soldiers themselves. But, in this case, he is Karan, so there’s nothing any Aenuk could do.’

Rhaena swung an apologetic look from Llew to Jonas, then grew somber again. ‘There’s something dangerous happening, I believe, about here.’ She circled a finger over an area above Jonas’s knee. ‘We could fill you up on medicines that would likely make you feel awful, and they might work, or they might not, then this gets worse and you die anyway. Or, we could try opening it up and treating it topically, which would hurt, likely make you feel awful, and there’s still a chance we fail – not to mention the added risk of introducing more infection – and you die.’ She and Jonas stared at each other and Llew had the feeling there was a next part to this declaration they both knew while she had no idea. She looked to Elka who was on the verge of tears. No, Llew didn’t like the options offered so far, either.

‘I’m sure you understand our need to move swiftly, decisively, and with no regrets. No ‘what if’s’,’ Rhaena said. ‘It has to come off.’