“I have universal blood. Comes in handy here.” Thankfully, she does all the sticking of needles herself, but even just helping with the process has me dizzy and nauseated. “Maybe don’t mention this part back at Genesis,” she cautions. “They can be weird about blood stuff.”

As I watch Hilde arrange a fridge full of her own blood, I can’t help but think that she doesn’t seem “foolish and reckless” or “crazy” to me. In fact, she might be the sanest person I’ve ever met.

“We should test your blood. Sires can donate frequently, but if you’re universal too, it would be nice to have extra on hand to give myself a break.”

As she draws some of my blood, she says, “So, Michael recruited you from the provincial world?”

“Yes.”

“He’s weirdly obsessed with provincials. We used to tease him that he’d end up recruiting himself a lover.”

Heat rushes to my cheeks. “It’s not like that,” I say.

“It’s always like that with Michelangelo Loew.” She looks me up and down. “And I’ve been there before. I know the signs.”

The desert might swallow me whole.

The sound of yelling has us rushing out of the tent. Asha is running toward Hilde, her eyes swimming with panicked tears.

Hilde jumps into action. “Follow me!” she instructs.

“What is it?”

“Her baby brother.”

We arrive at a tent with a dirt floor and mattresses taking up most of the space. A crying woman holds out a toddler in our direction.

Hilde grasps the boy and swears under her breath as she takes his temperature and listens to his heartbeat.

She extends him out to me and says, “You need to use your Ha’i to shock his heart while I administer fluids.”

I refuse to take the boy, terrified. “You do it. I don’t—I’m not good at conducting.”

“No. I have overactive Ha’i and a tendency to burn people when I get emotional. He’s very small, so you’re safer.”

My heart pounding, I take him in my arms. He seems so frail.

“Here, make shiin on his chest,” she encourages. I do so, my hand trembling. I feel the child’s erratic heartbeat beneath my fingers. “Just a light pulse.”

“I can’t do it.” I’m too scared, too riled up; I have no control.

“Yes, you can,” Hilde instructs calmly. “I saw you make chickweed bloom in a desert; you can help this child. Tell me what you’re thinking, how you’re trying to access your Ha’i.” She speaks so calmly while at the same time inserting an IV into the boy’s tiny hand.

“I… I’m trying to pull it up from the well within me.” Like Master Liu had taught me. I taste salt on my lips and realize that I’m crying.