“I am at that, my friend,” he responds with gusto. “They tell me that a Changer pulled me from the wreckage, so there is someone out there who I owe a debt, but . . .” He makes a gesture as if this mysterious wizard has disappeared into thin air. His smile is lopsided, and disappears for a moment. “Benny, I’m afraid, did not survive the crash.”

I want to reach across and slap him for mentioning that machine before our friends, but I know it is just in his nature. “Your wounds?” I ask.

He squeezes my hand and pulls back. “Paralyzed from the waist down,” he says, slapping one thigh. “An enemy bullet. These useless hunks of meat will never operate the pedals again.”

I let out a soft sigh. “Rod—”

“No, no,” he cuts me off, as if I am his little sister. “I will not be defeated by a mere bullet. Selvie says she can create a mechanism that will let me operate the flaps with my elbows. I will fly again, or my name is not Rodrigo.” He rolls his eyes at my stricken expression. “Don’t be such a downer. We are alive, my friend, and that is what is important.”

I can see a pain in his eyes, though he hides it well. I am surprised that his optimism has survived the crash, but grateful for it. “Where are we?” I ask.

“In Bava,” he answers. “One of those officers’ hospitals.”

“How did we end up here?”

Rodrigo’s face sours. “You met Marie?”

I bristle at the name, the betrayal still hot in my memory. “I did.”

“She is an old lover of mine. Years ago, a torrid affair,” he says, waving it off, “but her father is a general. Seems she pulled some strings.”

“So we have you to thank for this?”

“Me?” he scoffs. “I’m surprised I made it back in one piece. Our last separation was not a pleasant one. No, it turns out she’s taken a shine to you.”

I feel like I should be flattered. “She betrayed us,” I say bluntly.

Rodrigo’s face is somber. “Let it go,” he says seriously.

“How?”

“Not how,” a voice interrupts. “That is your own problem. Why might be a better question.” Marie stands in the doorway. She is both prettier and older than I first expected. Her hair has been freshly cut and her uniform is clean and sharp. Despite our location, she wears a pistol at her belt.

I stiffen. Rodrigo turns white and ducks his head. “I should go.”

“Please do,” Marie says.

“No, stay,” I utter at the same time.

Rodrigo wheels his chair, one-handed, past Marie. She makes no move to help him though it is clear the motion is very painful. She watches him go coldly, then turns back to me.