Once again, Raena finished up an inspection of Jonas’s stump and replaced his bandage. She no longer applied tin, just a gauze patch and bandage wrappings.

  Llew lounged in the chair, as pleased to hear positive murmurs between Raena and Elka as she was to have no expectations to meet. Jonas’s phantom limb pain and restlessness had woken him and Llew several times in the night. With them being confined to this single room, though, they were just as likely to sleep in the day when boredom reached a peak. They were both itching to get moving, but weren’t prepared to do so without Raena’s go ahead.

  Jonas wore one of Raena’s father’s – Elka’s grandfather’s – shirts over a singlet. The two women helped him back into a pair of fine wool trousers and pinned up the right leg. His mood had improved since he could wear clothing again. Mr Greving was a good fit for Jonas. And Raena wasn’t too far off Llew. Although the Turhmosian woman generally preferred dresses or a skirt and blouse pairing, she had some dress trousers she hadn’t worn in some time and was happy to pass them on to Llew. Llew hadn’t liked any of the blouses, so Elka’s grandfather had to sacrifice a second shirt. It’s elbows were thinning, so Llew believed Raena when she said it had been due to be tossed anyway and its absence would go unnoticed.

  Quick, heavy steps on the stairway saw the room settle into a tense silence, all eyes on the door.

  “Leela’s out?” Elka asked quietly.

  “Yes. She was,” Raena murmured in response.

  The footsteps moved swiftly along the corridor, with no care for stealth.

  Jonas pushed himself up to sit, swinging his leg over the side of the bed.

  Llew brought her feet in and leaned forward in the chair, ready to leap up and take whatever action was necessary. The handle turned, and the door swept open. Rowan ducked his head as he stepped through the door and the tension dispersed in a collective sigh. But the furtive glances he directed around the room suggested the newspaper he carried brought no cause for celebration. He closed the door behind him, unfolded the paper and displayed the front page. Disturbingly accurate likenesses of Llew and Jonas looked out at them from beneath the headline: Syakaran lives; on run with escaped Syaenuk. REWARDS.

  “Yes. I did that, too.” Rowan nodded to Llew, drawing attention to her gaping mouth. She closed it and glared at the paper, but the print below the headline was too small to discern from halfway across the room. She stood and approached him.

  “Sy—” Elka lisped behind her.

  “That makes sense,” Raena murmured.

  Llew glanced up at Rowan as she reached for the paper. He looked unblinkingly back at her. A look that was entirely unreadable. It implied no threat and did nothing to deny that he might know more than she and Jonas wanted him to. He let her take the paper and she skimmed the article seeking only confirmation of how much more trouble she and Jonas might find in Turhmos, or indeed this household. And, sure enough, it was all there.

  Braph must’ve spoken to someone, for it was he who received the credit for Jonas now being powerless. She supposed she should be grateful they were wanted alive. That wouldn’t make it easy for the average Turhmosian to collect on the bounty. But how could they have known about the surgery?

  Llew shifted her gaze to Rowan again, not meeting his eyes, taking in his height and build. Taller and thicker set than Jonas, he’d be a tough opponent. But Llew had spent weeks sparring with Jonas and Hisham. She was almost sure she could take him, if need be. Was he the leak?

  “It’s going to be a lot harder to move across Turhmos, now,” Rowan said.

  Llew examined his tone for a hint of threat but found nothing obvious. She raised her eyes to meet his from beneath her brow, trying to get a read off him, while remaining aware of the rest of his body. If he made a move, she would be ready.

  “But I think we can do it,” Rowan finished.

  “We?” Llew asked as Jonas queried, “What’s it say?”

  With no signs of hostility emanating from Rowan, Llew turned to face Jonas, letting all the defeat show on her face.

  “Everything.” She lifted her hands and let them fall against her thighs. “They know you’re powerless, that you’ve had surgery within Turhmos, and obviously they know all about me.” It was right there, in the boldest print.

  “Powerless?” Elka looked heartbroken as she gazed down on Jonas.

  Jonas repeated Llew’s reaction, studying Raena first, as his most immediate threat to himself, glancing past Elka and finally, warily, taking Rowan in. He may not have been a particularly imposing man under normal circumstances, but Llew was very aware of his presence hulking behind her shoulder. “Who told them?”

  Rowan, Elka, and Raena all looked at each other, shaking their heads. Llew looked back at Rowan.

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  “No, I didn’t— I haven’t spoken to anyone,” Rowan said. “I wouldn’t do that to my family. We’re a target too now, you know. They don’t know where you are, but there aren’t a lot of surgeons experienced in amputations within a day or two of Duffirk.” He crossed the room to the window, looked down to the street then back at those in the room. “People are going to come asking Ma questions. It’s not like we’re not glad we could help, but you two are poison.”

  Raena waved her hands in the air, asking for calm. “We would never have turned our backs on you. We knew what we were getting into and are simply awed by your presence. We know of Aenuks, of course, but they are barely real to most Turhmosians. Almost myth, as they’re never seen. I wonder at that paper’s use of Syaenuk. With the Kara and Syakara, it makes sense there might be a Syaenuk to the Aenuks. But what does that even mean? I can’t fully comprehend.”

  “It means she’s seen the other side, too many times,” said Jonas.

  “You’ve … been dead?” Rowan asked.

  “But how …?” Elka spoke quietly.

  “Well, let’s see.” Llew brought up her hands to count off her fingers. “I’ve been cut by a bottle, hanged – which I think accounted for three times. I’ve been killed in a fight, had my heart filled with arrows—”

  “No. I mean h— you.” Elka focused on Jonas, who looked pained at Llew’s list. “How did you lose your power?”

  “A bug,” Llew said. “A micro—” She could never remember the rest, and threw her hands up at the lack.

  “Microorganism,” Elka finished for her. “So, he is s— sick. Does that mean we can heal him?” She looked to her mother, who frowned in contemplation.

  “There’s an Ajnai in Quaver that I believe can do it.” Llew caught Jonas’s eye. That tree was a long way off, though.

  With a tug, Rowan drew Llew’s attention back to the paper. He wanted it back.

  “There’s more,” he said as she released it, allowing him to open up an internal page. “Your brother—”

  “Half-brother,” Llew and Jonas corrected in unison.

  Rowan paused. “Oh. Kay. Uhm.” He looked back down at the page, giving it a shake, as if that would make it fill in such omissions. “The Magician, Braph, seems to be developing a close bond with our current president. It says here, he’s handed over his nephew, a Syakaran child—”

  “Joelin.” Jonas’s voice sounded breathless.

  “He’ll be all right.” Llew spoke on instinct. “We’ll get him out.”

  Jonas held her gaze before dropping an accusing scowl on his own shortened leg.

  “We’ll get them all out,” she said, wanting to believe it.

  “So, we get you back to this tree in Quaver, return your Syakaran powers, and sneak back into Turhmos to free the Aenuks? It almost sounds simple,” said Rowan.

  Yet again, Llew picked up on his use of ‘we’, but Jonas spoke before she could question it.

  “And what if we can’t return my powers?” The scowl he leveled at her was almost accusing, but she chose to interpret it for the fear that more than likely lingered there. “I can’t die tryin’ to get them back with my son still out there.”

  “Do you think you can get him back without them?” It didn’t feel good, putting Llew’s own need for Jonas’s powers ahead of a child, but what choice did they really have? Of course, the real possibility that Jonas would die in the process of trying screamed in the back of her head, too.

  “Can’t he fight the microorganism?” Elka asked. “Like a cold?”

  “There are many conditions people have to live with for the rest of their lives,” Raena said. “I’m afraid you’ve already exhausted my expertise on this matter. Germ-theory is such a new science. We’ve only recently learned the value of cleaning our hands and our tools. Whatever this is—” She indicated the entirety of Jonas. “I’m sorry I’ve got nothing more to offer, but your Ajnai theory sounds promising.” She finished with a shrug and a sorrowful look.

  “The m—” Llew gave up. “—bug is something Braph invented. All I know is he tested it on himself and used my mother’s blood to beat it.”

  “Then we know it can be beaten,” Raena said with evident relief. “Your mother is Syaenuk, like you?”

  Llew nodded. “But Braph didn’t let himself get this sick. I think I can keep Jonas alive with my blood, but beating the bug will take more. We have to get to Quaver.”

  Jonas was still watching Llew with a stubborn set to his jaw and a haunted look in his eyes. Llew turned to him, pretending, for the moment, they were the only people in the room.

  “If we can’t return your power, then we go in anyway. You’re still a soldier.” She glanced at his stumpy thigh and, for the briefest moment, considered crumpling to the floor and admitting defeat. But some other part refused to do so. She didn’t have all the answers right then, just some sense that if they didn’t fight for the incarcerated Aenuks, or Jonas’s son, or her ma, no one else would. It wasn’t a matter of knowing how they would do it, they just had to. “I can keep you supplied with blood. You know I don’t mind.”

  Jonas flexed his jaw and turned to Raena. “Are we done?”