Jess nodded and continued on, and found Thomas sitting at Glain’s bedside. He seemed fine, and so did Glain; she’d been propped up with cushions, and was trying to spoon up soup, but without much appetite that Jess could see. He pulled a chair closer and straddled it. “I’ve been told that the Iron Tower gets the best of everything,” he said.

Glain swallowed her mouthful and reached for the water glass. “Soup is soup. But they’ve treated me well enough.” She shot Jess a guarded look. “How is everyone else?”

“All right so far,” he said. He knew she was asking mostly about Morgan, and he didn’t want to answer that question. “So, you’re not going to die on us, then.”

“Don’t you just wish? No. You’re not so lucky, Brightwell.”

“Good.” He extended a hand and she clasped it, but quickly, and then dug back into her soup. Personal emotion always made her uncomfortable. “Thomas thought of the food.”

“It was kind,” Glain said, and gave the German boy a brief, full smile. “Did you eat?”

“Schnitzel,” Thomas said. “But I almost regret it. I— My stomach can’t take so much rich food so quickly, I think.” He’d paled again and his fingers drummed in agitation. Trying, Jess figured, to distract himself from thoughts of what he’d eaten in the cells, or the times he’d had to endure hunger. Even the good things are tainted for him, Jess thought, and it enraged him all over again. But it would get better, wouldn’t it? Given time? It hasn’t for Wolfe. Against his will, he recalled Elsinore Quest’s advice: damage like this couldn’t be buried safely.

“We should leave you,” Jess said, “unless you need something?”

“I’ll harass the staff if I do. That’s what they’re here for,” Glain replied. “You concentrate on finding a way out of this. I’ll join you tomorrow.”

“If the physicians say you can.”

“Tomorrow,” she said, and ate another mouthful of soup with grim determination.

Thomas seemed reluctant to leave despite his restlessness, and Jess had to convince him that they weren’t abandoning Glain; he seemed eager for her not to feel alone, but to Jess it appeared to be more about Thomas’s experiences shadowing the situation. Eventually, Glain persuaded him by rolling her eyes and said, “Oh, for the sake of Heron, just leave me to get some rest, Thomas! I’m fine!” And as blunt as it was, it did the job of convincing him to follow Jess out.

As they left, though, Jess caught sight of a familiar figure slipping into another private curtained-off area across the way, and put his hand on Thomas’s arm to hold him back. “Wait here for me,” he said. “I’ll just be a moment.”

“Jess?”

“One moment.”

He didn’t go into the private space, but he pulled the curtain aside, just enough to see Morgan sitting down at the bedside of another young woman. It took him a moment to recall it, but hadn’t the snide girl Rosa mentioned something about Morgan’s friend? Sybil . . . No. Sybilla.