The shaking got worse. If August hadn’t been drugged to the gills he might have noticed me trembling. I heard feathered wings and tasted a ghost of wax oranges.

Anna had come to my house expecting to betray my mother and looking for Christophe. She’d

made sure I was sent to the other Schola and visited it herself to see what I remembered.

To see if I’d told anyone about something I couldn’t remember without the help of the touch, something I’d had no idea I remembered. She’d betrayed a whole Schola full of kids to Sergej.

But why? I was still no closer to understanding that. When you knew what the nosferatu did to

djamphir, when you’d seen what they did to the bodies, how could you do that? That was the part I

didn’t get.

August said something, slurred and full of consonants. And to my surprise, Christophe leaned in

from behind me. He freed my limp sweating fingers and squeezed August’s hand himself. He also

answered in the same language.

The wounded djamphir’s eyes closed fully. He sighed and murmured something else. Then he was

asleep.

“God.” My voice wouldn’t work right, but I was going to whisper anyway. You always want to do

that when someone’s in the hospital. Whisper like a creeping mouse. I’d whispered to Gran as she

lay dying, holding on as long as she could for me.

Don’t leave me, I’d begged in that same creeping-mouse voice because my throat wouldn’t work

right. Gran, I love you, please don’t leave me.

But she couldn’t stay. I was always holding onto people, and they were always leaving.

I couldn’t help myself. I touched August’s limp fingers again. “Don’t leave me, Augie.” I knew he

couldn’t hear me, but still. “Okay? Don’t go.”

“He’ll be fine.” Christophe put his arm over my shoulders. “I promise he will live, moj maly

ptaszku.”

I almost broke down again right there. My arm stole around Christophe’s waist as I straightened. I

leaned into him, and he didn’t move. It was like leaning against a statue. He held himself absolutely

still, the creepy-still of an older djamphir. He barely even breathed.

My knees were pretty rubbery. “You mean it?” I tried not to sound like I was begging. Jeez, my

tough-girl image was never going to recover from all this.

I wasn’t sure I cared at this point.

“I do.” Christophe pulled me away from the bedside. “He’s survived worse, and he’s bandaged and

medicated. Now all he needs is rest.”