“Armed with Greek fire?”

“And guns,” Jess added, though he knew Botha hadn’t forgotten. He just felt a little defensive. He swallowed and said, “If you see any of my squad, watch them, too. I think some of them may be . . .” He trailed off, because he didn’t want to come right out and say traitors, but the implication hung heavy in the air between them.

Botha shrugged. “I always keep an eye on recruits. They might shoot me in a panic.”

Jess decided then that he liked the man. “Better follow me, then. I trust your aim, at least.” He stepped out into the street. For a second, he felt dizzy, waiting for the inevitable bullet to hit, but nothing did. Silence, except for the hiss of sand stirring in the wind, and the roar of the fire behind. The blaze that had kicked off the whole mess was dying down in the middle of the street ahead, and Jess used that as a guide to look for Tariq. There he was, still lying where he’d fallen. Jess wanted to stop, but Glain, Wolfe, and Helva had to be his first priority. He’d find out the rest later.

Glain stepped out of the shadows of the broken window and pointed her weapon past Jess, at Botha. “Halt,” she snapped, and Jess felt Botha coming to alert. “Drop it!”

“He’s here to help,” Jess said. “He’s got antivenin for Helva, and Santi’s on the way.”

“You bring it in, Jess,” Glain said. “I don’t know that one.”

Botha laughed. It sounded genuinely amused. “Smart,” he said. His pack thumped the ground by Jess’s feet. “Take it in, recruit.”

Glain’s posture stiffened just a little more. “Check the pack,” she told Jess. He crouched down, opened the flaps, and looked in. Standard field equipment, with a full Medica kit inside. He looked back over his shoulder at the centurion.

“You’re Medica?”

“Cross-trained,” Botha said. “I do field medicine. You don’t need me for this, though. Just give her the injection.”

“Do it,” Glain said. “Hurry.”

Jess found the antivenin and eased by Glain, who kept a sharp watch on the centurion. He found Scholar Wolfe beside Helva, taking her pulse. Wolfe held up his hand without even looking up, and Jess handed the shot over and watched as Wolfe slid the needle in. The injector hissed a little as the gas capsule triggered, and the clear liquid contents pushed into Helva’s vein. She was still and quiet, and Jess would have thought his fellow soldier dead if not for the flutter of her pale eyelids. Her color was bad—as bad as it could get, Jess thought, without Anubis appearing to personally drag her to the underworld. “Is it too late?” Jess asked. He didn’t want to care. He’d tried hard not to care about any of them.

“I don’t think so,” Wolfe said. He put his hand on the young woman’s forehead and held it there for a moment—Not medically useful; just comfort, Jess thought. The action of a kind man, though Wolfe wouldn’t like being thought of in that way. He went out of his way to be seen as a hard, uncaring bastard. “I’ve seen this stuff revive those worse off.”