The squall blew through with the night; by morning, the sky was crisp and bright. Hollis and Michael gathered their gear to go. If all went well, Hollis said, they’d be back before nightfall. But it could be as long as a day. In the snowy yard, Sara hugged Hollis, then Michael. Greer and Amy were inside with Alicia. In the last twenty-four hours, since they’d given her the second dose of the virus, her condition seemed to have reached a kind of stasis. But her fever was still high, and her eyes had gotten worse.

“Just don’t … let it go too long,” Hollis told Peter. “She wouldn’t want you to.”

They waited. Amy was staying close to Alicia now, never leaving her bedside. It was clear to all what was occurring. The merest light in the room made her flinch, and she had begun to strain at the straps again.

“She’s fighting it,” Amy said. “But I’m afraid that she is losing.”

Darkness fell, with no sign of Michael and Hollis. Peter had never felt so helpless. Why wasn’t it working, as it had with Lacey? But he wasn’t a doctor; they were only guessing about what to do. The second dose could be killing her, for all he knew. Peter was aware of Greer watching him, waiting for him to act. And yet he could do nothing.

It was just past dawn when Sara shook him awake. Peter had fallen asleep in a chair, his head rocked forward onto his chest.

“I think … it’s happening,” she said.

Alicia was breathing very rapidly. Her whole body was taut, the muscles of her jaw twitching, a fluttering beneath the surface of her skin. A low, effortful moan issued from the back of her throat. For a moment she relaxed. Then it happened again.

“Peter.”

He turned to see Greer, standing in the doorway. He was holding a blade.

“It’s time.”

Peter rose, positioning his body between Greer and the bed where Alicia lay. “No.”

“I know it’s hard, but she’s a soldier. A soldier of the Expeditionary. It’s time for her to take the trip.”

“I meant no, it’s not your job.” He held out his hand. “Give me the blade, Major.”

Greer hesitated, searching Peter’s face with his eyes. “You don’t have to do this.”

“Yes, I do.” He felt no fear, only resignation. “I gave her my word, you see. I’m the only one who can.”

Reluctantly, Greer surrendered the knife. A familiar heft and balance: Peter saw that it was his own, the one he’d left at the gate with Eustace.

“I’d like to be alone with her, if that’s all right.”