As the sky started to lighten outside Viola’s window, Esta rubbed her eyes and stretched out the kinks in her back. She had finally convinced Viola to give Tilly more Nitewein a few hours before dawn. The first person who had offered her kindness in this city was now slumped on her side in the bed, her thin shift damp with sweat, her eyes glassy and unfocused. She looked three feet from death’s doorstep, but at least she wasn’t screaming anymore.
Esta dipped the rag back into the bucket of murky water and placed it against Tilly’s feverish forehead once again. At the feel of the cool cloth, Tilly moaned.
Viola paused until Tilly settled again, but then continued to pace in the corner of the small room.
“You can sit down anytime now,” Esta told her. So much for the cold, fearless assassin—Viola had been wearing a hole in the floor for most of the night.
“I still don’t like it. Tilly, she never had the Nitewein. She would have hated to be like this,” Viola said, her voice trembling as she gestured vaguely toward the girl in the bed.
“She wasn’t exactly having the time of her life with all the screaming and moaning,” Esta muttered. If she thought Viola would accept sympathy, Esta would have offered it. Instead, she gave Viola something to strike back at, a distraction from her worry.
“What did you say?” Viola demanded.
“Nothing. Never mind.” Esta dipped the rag and placed it against Tilly’s feverish brow again. Neither of them spoke for a long while, but Viola’s fear filled the room as she resumed her pacing.
“Does she know how you feel?” Esta asked softly, not looking at Viola.
Viola’s footsteps went still and a long, uncomfortable moment passed during which Esta wondered if she’d gone too far. But then . . .
“No,” Viola said, her voice barely a breath but containing more heartbreak than a single word should be able to hold.
Esta met Viola’s eyes. “You never told her?”
Viola let out a ragged breath and looked at the bed where Tilly lay. She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. Her friendship is enough.”
Esta took the cloth and dipped it back into the water, not knowing what to say, what comfort to offer. She didn’t know if Tilly had known or understood how Viola felt, but from the warm smiles she’d seen the two share, Esta couldn’t help but think that maybe she did. And Esta knew Tilly cared for Viola, even if it wasn’t in quite the same way. Still, she wasn’t sure whether saying anything would help Viola or make things worse, so she kept her thoughts to herself.
But she stayed.
The morning passed slowly into afternoon, the streets outside the window growing noisy with the business of the day, but nothing inside the room had changed. Tilly had not improved . . . if anything, she seemed to be more pale and her cries more desperate every time the Nitewein began to wear off.
Tilly’s cries had Viola strung tight as a garrote wire, and when Viola’s temper snapped each time they had to give Tilly more Nitewein, Esta’s was the only exposed throat in the room. Which would have been an easier burden to shoulder if Esta wasn’t aware of just how deadly Viola could be. By the afternoon, Esta’s shoulders were tight and her eyes felt like someone had thrown sand into them from the lack of sleep. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten, and as much as she wanted to help Tilly, she wished someone—anyone—would come and relieve her.
As if in answer, the door to the room opened, its uneven hinges creaking, and Dolph Saunders limped into the room. His hair was a riot of waves around his face, and his eyes were ringed with dark circles. When she saw him, Viola stepped forward, putting herself between Dolph and Tilly.
“Stand down, Vi. I’m not here for that,” Dolph told her, sounding tired and drawn. “And despite your impressive skills, you know well enough that you couldn’t stop me if I were.”
Viola’s jaw clenched, but she didn’t argue.
Dolph turned to Esta. “Have you slept any?” he asked, his voice gruff.
“About as much as you did, from the looks of it,” Esta told him.
“You’ve been here all day?” He seemed surprised.
“Most of the night, too. It’s not like I could sleep with the noise she was making.” She nodded toward Tilly.
“Noise?” Dolph asked, looking at Viola.
“Mostly it was the screaming that kept me up,” Esta told him. She shrugged, willing away her own exhaustion. “I thought I might as well help since I wasn’t getting any sleep.”
“She should have been sedated.” Dolph glared at Viola.
Viola crossed her arms. “She is now, if that makes you happy.”
“Immensely,” he drawled. Then he turned back to Esta. “How is she faring?”
“I don’t have any idea. She’s quiet now, though.”
Viola stepped forward. “She’ll come through. Don’t you worry none.”
With an impatient glare, Dolph turned to Viola. “I’ll worry when I’m ready to, and not a second before.” Then his tired expression seemed to soften as he leaned into his cane. “We’ll give her a bit more time. Keep her sedated this time,” he told Viola sternly.
“She’d hate this,” Viola said softly, her worried eyes locked on the pale girl in the bed.
“Hate it or not, it’s necessary. Keeping her calm is the most we can do for her now. Her affinity is still there, but it’s been broken somehow. It’ll be up to her to decide whether she’s strong enough to go on without it.”
“Of course she’ll be strong enough,” Viola told Dolph, her jaw set determinedly. “She always was.”
“I don’t disagree, but surviving this will require a different sort of strength than she’s had to draw on before. Time will tell.” Dolph turned to Esta. “Come with me.” He didn’t wait for her to follow.
Just before Esta made it to the door, Viola grabbed her wrist.
The girl’s strange violet eyes bored into her. “Thank you. For what you did for her,” she said, her voice breaking. “And for me.”
“It was nothing,” Esta told her, an easy enough truth.
But Viola only squeezed her wrist more tightly. “No one else came,” she said simply, before she let Esta go.
Esta slipped out of the room and found Nibs and Dolph waiting for her in the hall.
“Should I make the arrangements?” Nibs was asking.
Dolph shook his head. “Not yet. There’s a small chance she could still pull through. We’ll give her some time.”
Nibs frowned. “She’s a talented healer.”
“I’m well aware of that,” Dolph said as he led the way down to the staircase at the end of the narrow hall. “But Tilly’s always been stronger than most. And her magic isn’t completely gone. She’s been loyal to me, so we’ll give her—and Viola—time before I decide.”
“Decide what?” Esta couldn’t help asking.
“I won’t let her suffer,” Dolph said shortly. “And I can’t allow her to become a liability.”
A dark understanding rose in Esta. “So you’ll—”
“I’ll do what needs to be done to protect those who depend upon me,” he growled, pulling himself to his full height as though daring Esta to cross him. When she didn’t, he spoke again. “Darrigan sent me a note today, as you said he would. He’ll meet with me in two days’ time. With both Viola and Tilly otherwise occupied, I’d like you to be around—in case I need your help with him.”
Esta nodded. “Anything else?”
“Yes,” Dolph said, looking her over. “Go get some sleep. You look like something dragged from the gutter.”