Fractured memories slipped through her mind. Sparring with Kol on the weapons-field. His arm tight around her, his breath on her neck. Collapsing, a kaleidoscope of images in this room. Aphra, her mam, Kol. A whispered meeting in the dark.

There was a dark shape over her, a hand behind her head, helping her sit. Water, oh blessed, sweet, heaven-sent water, a trickle on her lips, over her swollen tongue and down her redraw throat.

‘Slowly,’ Aphra said as Riv tried to tip more water into her mouth.

‘Where am I?’ Riv croaked, looking around. The room was circular, one long window starting from the floor and ending with an arched top, tall and wide enough for a giant to walk through. Darkness, wind and rain leaked in, pressing upon the torchlight, making it swirl and hiss. Something about the way the wind whistled through the window whispered to Riv of height.

‘A tower room,’ Aphra said, ‘above our barrack.’

Never knew this was here!

‘It’s my solitude room,’ Aphra said with a sad smile. ‘How do you feel?’

Riv wasn’t sure. She felt as if her body had been put through a mangle, aching and entirely lacking in anything resembling energy. Keeping her eyes open and looking around seemed to be taxing enough.

‘Weak,’ she breathed. ‘Cold.’ She shivered, trying to shrug the woollen blanket tighter around her. She frowned at the open window.

A shutter would help.

‘Your fever is returning,’ Aphra said with a frown, her hand on Riv’s brow. ‘This is the third time. Twice I thought it had broken and you were healing.’

‘How long?’

‘Half a ten-night.’

‘What! Is that how long I’ve been . . . ?’ She didn’t know what to call it. ‘Unwell?’

‘Aye.’ Aphra nodded. ‘Since you collapsed on the weapons-field.’

Riv drank some more water, managed to blink and roll her neck without feeling as if she’d spent a morning in the shield wall. Her back ached, a dull throb of pain, pulsing out from her shoulder blades.

‘Back,’ she said, trying to roll her shoulders. She felt different, somehow. As if she’d grown. ‘It hurts.’ She shifted, feeling muscle move that hadn’t been there when last she checked.

‘Your back. Well, I’m not surprised it’s hurting.’

‘Why?’ Riv said, not liking the sound of that, or the look on Aphra’s face. Not just worry. Something more. Something far greater than worry.

Aphra held up a strip of something that looked like parchment, crinkled and opaque.

‘What’s that?’ Riv pulled a face.

‘Your skin. It’s been peeling from your back for half a ten-night.’

‘Ugh!’

‘And there’s plenty more where that came from.’