“I was afraid of that.” Rynee bit her lip. “And she is going to scar; I can’t tell you how badly yet, but there’s no getting around it. Her face wasn’t touched, but the rest of her—some of it isn’t going to be at all pretty. The only burn victim I’ve ever heard of that was as bad was—”

Despite her weariness, Talia’s eyes lighted when she saw an idea begin to form behind Rynee’s frown. “Out with it, milady—you’ve the same Gift as I have, and if you’ve gotten a notion it’s probably going to work.” She paused in the hallway and leaned against the wood-paneled wall; Rynee rubbed the bridge of her long nose with her finger.

“Vostel—what does he do now? Could he be recalled here for a while?” she asked finally, hope in her cloud-gray eyes.

“Relay at the Fallflower Healing Temple; and yes, anyone on relay work can be replaced. What are you thinking of?”

“That he’ll be the best ‘medicine’ for her; he went through it all himself. He knows how it hurts, and when it’ll stop, and how you have to force yourself to work through the pain if you intend to get the full use of your limbs back. And he’s a Herald, so she’ll believe what he says. Besides all that, despite the old scars he’s still a better-than-passable-looking man. And he doesn’t believe in the fates dealing out arbitrary punishments for a little healthy hedonism.”

Talia chuckled in spite of herself. “Oh, very good! If we have him at her side coaxing and encouraging, he’ll do half our work for us! You’re right about his beliefs, too. All I had to do was keep reassuring him that the pain would end, and that he wasn’t being a coward and a whiner for occasionally wanting to give up. I’ve no doubt they’ll find each other quite congenial when Destria’s back to something like her old self and her old appetites. I’ll see Kyril and get Vostel sent here as soon as he can be replaced; he’ll be here by the time she starts to need him. ”

Talia moved away from the wall and stumbled as her knees wobbled a little. They had only gotten a few feet down the hall, and already her exhaustion was threatening to overwhelm her. Rynee steered her toward a soft and comfortable-looking padded bench, one of many placed at intervals along the walls, for Healers were apt to catch oddments of rest wherever and whenever they could.

“And you—you get yourself down onto that couch and take a short nap. I’ll wake you, but if you don’t take some recovery time you won’t be of any use to any of us. You know the saying—never argue with a Healer—”

“And I never do!”