“Don’t have any sisters, and my brothers are all older than me. My mother, she’s taught me a lot, but she doesn’t do midwifery. She’s always so busy with, well, everything. Mostly I think the body just cleans itself out like a bad monthly, though some women seem to get poorly, after. I think it’s all right if you bleed some, but bad if you bleed a lot.”

“Well, tell me which you’re doing, all right?”

“All right…’’ she said doubtfully.

Her expression was so very reserved and inward. As though painfully trying to listen to the marred song of her own body with a groundsense blighted deaf. Or futilely looking for that other light within her, so bright and busy just this morning, now dark and dead. In all, Dag thought Fawn had been much too quiet ever since they’d left the lair. It made him feel unsettled and desperate.

He wondered if he ought to invent a few sisters for himself, to bolster his authority in the matter. “Look, I am a very experienced patroller,” he blathered on into that fraught silence. “I delivered a baby single-handedly on the Great Lake Road, once.” Wait, was this a good tale to tell now? Perhaps not, but it was too late to stop. “Well, not single-handedly, I had two hands then, but they were both pretty clumsy. Fortunately, it was the woman’s fourth, and she could tell me how to go on. Which she did, pretty tartly. She was not best pleased to be stuck with me for a midwife. She called me such names. I stored ’em up to treasure—they came in right useful later on, when I was dealing with feckless young patrollers. Twenty-two I was, and so proud of myself after, you’d think I did all the work. Let me tell you, next bandit I faced after that didn’t look nearly so scary.”

This won a watery chuckle, as he’d hoped. Good, because if he’d gone with the fictional sisters, she might have asked their names, and he didn’t think his invention would last so far. His eyelids felt as if someone had attached lead weights to them when he wasn’t looking. The room was beginning to waver unpleasantly.

“She was one straightforward lady. Set me an example I never forgot.”

“I can see that,” murmured Fawn. And after a quiet moment added, “Thank you.”

“Oh, you’re an easy patient. I won’t have to shave you in the morning, and you won’t throw your boots at my head because you’re cranky and hurting. Bored cranky patrollers who hurt, world’s worst company. Trust me.”

“Do they really throw boots?”

“Yes. I did.”