Ephyra blinked, oddly impressed. She’d never seen Anton threaten anyone, and she still remembered the first reunion he’d had with Illya, how fearful he’d been.

Illya looked a little impressed, too, but he just shrugged again and brushed past Anton to kneel beside Ephyra.

With surprising gentleness, he placed Ephyra’s hands on Jude, one hand over his heart, the other at his wrist. “You can do this.” His voice was soft in her ear. “You healed me. You can do anything.”

Ephyra released a shaky breath, closing her eyes as she focused on Illya’s voice and the gentle pressure of his hands on hers, swallowing down her annoyance at how effective he was at calming her. She felt focused, more sure as she curled her hands around Jude’s wrist, sensing the fluttering pulse beneath her fingertips.

And then she felt it. The esha from the cuttings brushed against Jude’s esha. Ephyra didn’t try to pull at the energy, didn’t force it the way she had so many times before. She just held it gently, guiding it, opening up a new pathway and letting the esha flow into Jude, mixing with his, spreading through each vein and capillary. Soon it was like the esha was guiding itself, Ephyra just a conduit, directing it to soothe and repair the damaged flesh. She felt Jude grow warm beneath her hands, and distantly she heard a soft gasp from Anton.

She opened her eyes. Jude’s wounds were closed, only the blood left to show they’d been there at all. His bruises were faded. Color had returned to his face, and his breath came slow and even.

She sagged backward, exhaustion and relief suddenly hitting her like a bag of rocks. Illya, she realized, had already moved away from her. “He just needs rest now.”

“When will he wake up?” Anton asked, moving forward to take Jude’s limp hand.

“I don’t know,” Ephyra said. “Hours? Days? He’ll live, though. His wounds are healed, but his body is still reacting to the trauma.” She shrugged. “I’m sorry. I’m really not an expert at this.”

Anton nodded, his gaze returning to Jude, something soft in his expression that was hard for Ephyra to look at.

“Thank you,” he said quietly, touching his thumb between Jude’s eyebrows. “Thank you for saving him.”

Ephyra didn’t know what to say. She gave a stilted nod.

“I can take you to see Beru now,” Illya offered.

Ephyra let him lead her down the corridor. A strange sort of tension grew between them as they walked in silence.

Illya had come through for them. He’d put his life in her hands. And he’d helped her, again, just now in the infirmary.

Despite all that, she still didn’t know if she could trust him. There was a persistent question still nagging at her, one he’d never answered.